altruism.

I would just like to add as an aside to the post below that there are really skinny, hungry children in Africa and South America and Japan and I'm sure some fat child somewhere is dying for another twinkie.  I understand if your money is better served there.

why hello there employment.

More to come on those details, but my days of lounging while watching episodes of Dexter and eating Cookies and Cream poptarts are quickly coming to an end (like, tomorrow).  Probably for the best, as I'm starting to develop quite the interesting wish list.  Take a look at my eclectic tastes.

@bradleymasters just got some pretty new scriptures, and I'm coveting them.  Do I want a quad, or the Bible/ Trip combo?  Black?  Green?  con snaps?

My future children need the entire Nancy Drew set.  Duh.  

This man is perfection.  Gimme some Hemingway por favor.

Let's just go with all of these, too, mmmmkay?

And since my birthday is coming up in, oh, 84 days, I'm just going to link you to a few of my favorite items [text/email/comment/tweet/fbmessage/etc for size info.  oh yes I just did].

This would look pretty for a mid-summer temple trip (with a cream cover, of course).

Orange can be pretty.  Would require some alterations at the hemline to be long enough, but that is easily done.

Look how gorgeous this skirt is!

I've got some yellow/grey heels that would look amazing with this.

This is my favorite of all, because it has hints of green and we all know that Jen loves green best.

Now, swimsuit season is happening, so I'd like to see this earlier rather than later.

My first paycheck is going here.  Black, of course.

While we're at it, these two things could be fun.

Love my current baby, but who says no to a nice upgrade?

Might as well complete the Apple trifecta with the missing link.

And to top it off, all of these pretty new additions to the MAC line.

#lolokay #keepdreamingjen

aw

Every so often I really want to post certain things.  Pictures or lyrics or experiences.  Sometimes even simple recaps.  But I've become extremely wary of posting anything that might actually be linked to a real person or a real event in my real life because that might make it less real.

Does that make sense?  Have you ever seen the word "real" used more obnoxiously in parallel structure in a sentence?

Every time I have this desire to post about a friend I've been chilling with or something that's making me sad or why my life is feeling particularly interesting, I always see this one [frightening] picture in my head.  And then I can't post it.  My thought, I mean.  Here's the picture, in case you're curious.

yeah. she's eleven.

terribly consistent.

creepy.  what is it with me and Memorial Day weekend?

.

some things are better left in boxes.

it's Thursday.

forever and a day.

Happy 700th post to me and the bloggy blog blog named after me.  When I signed into blogger yesterday (a rare occurrence; I'm traditionally signed in automatically) I noticed that I have 699 posts - so I refrained from posting just anything.  No wish list for a bikini or a book.  No stupid celebrity gossip found through ontd (although, I am managing to convince certain people of its legitimacy...).  No picture of a pretty person wearing something pretty.

No.

This merits something better.

Right?

Perhaps I could answer what are surely some intriguing questions, but when do I ever really do things like that anyway?

No.

Instead I'm going to tell you a story about a girl who really liked using Mozilla Firefox as her browser.

For continuity, let's call this girl Jen.  She's a fake dark-brunette, with eyes that change color from blue to green, and a serious over-worrier-complex (she'll probably always dye her hair dark brown and her eyes will probably always change color, but she's trying to change that worry-turns-whoa-anxiety-because-she's-dumb thing).  For years she's used Firefox.  It had a nifty name and a nifty little fox design and nifty people seemed to use it.  It's not that it was a bad switch from Safari, and it's not like she really had any desire to become computer proficient or anything, and it suited her needs.  The bookmarks bar was nice and the updates weren't too frequent and despite what some people say, orange and blue actually do look quite nice together, particularly with the pretty silver settings she had enabled in her browser.

Then came this thing called Chrome.  It comes from Google, which she more or less has zero reason to dislike, but it has a name that makes her think of yellow H2s (do they even make Hummers anymore?) and everyone who uses Chrome talks about HOW MUCH BETTER IT IS THAN EVERYTHING ELSE.

She tends to stay away from things that are so insanely revered, unless they have Steve Jobs' stamp of approval on them (just protecting my interests here), because people who espouse these ideas of complete product dominance are often the people who think FroYo isn't a fad and who love their idealistic, Ron Paul bumper stickers.

In other words, these zealous users live in a world that she doesn't live in.  A world where donuts won't ever be the next fad (long live donuts) and where Ron Paul is electable.

Here's the thing: this has probably been an unfair assumption.  I assume a lot of things.  And we all know what they say about people who assume things. As a part of my growing into a legitimate adult (with the emphasized inflection placed on the 'a'), I'm trying to give people and places and ideas and yes, even emotionally-detached browsers a chance.

For example, I'm currently listening to Justin Bieber.  And I'm liking it.  A lot.  Until four days ago, the only Bieber song I knew was that formerly-obnoxious-turned-summer-jam Baby.  And now I'm loving this U Smile song and Brad is totally right about Eenie Meenie and Love Me has a line from a Cardigans song and holy smokes, I can emotionally connect to Overboard and That Should Be Me.  Not my proudest moment, believe me.  But like I said, trying to grow here (also needed upbeat music to get me through pulling weeds).

I'm opening up to GOP possibilities and I'm not completely repulsed by everybody.

So maybe there's something to a little change now and then.  Unfortunately I'm the worst person at changing.  I find a routine, I maintain it, and I never.let.it.go.  It has to be pulled, kicking and screaming with claws scratching at the skin.  I've made turkey sandwiches the same way for six years.  My makeup has been organized in the exact same fashion for six years.  I've had the same cool-down routine at the gym for six years.

I've been chasing certain dreams for six years, unwilling to let go or move on even when every sign has pointed in the other direction.  It's not that I'm willfully obstinant; hopefully my personality is not a result of oppositional forces pushing me to always be different from what was expected.  For whatever reason I've not felt fulfilled in that area, and so I had to keep on moving.  But at some point it became about the sense of fulfillment rather than the genuine need or desire.

Changing is difficult for me because I want to be the most authentic person I can be, and that's not always easy when you're trying to stabilize who you're going to be known as for the rest of your life.  I wish I had been more prepared for how hard my early-twenties were going to be.  Glass half-empty, I'm indecisive and unable to let any option go.  Glass half-full, I have more opportunities than I know what to do with, a resume that I'm really proud of, and experiences that lend to some sweet stories.

At what point do these opportunities and plans and activities become distractions from what's really important?  And why am I so scared to move forward?

Jumping isn't something I like doing.  It took Jen two months after downloading Chrome to install it on her computer.  And then a few days before she actually opened it.  Then another little while before setting in some bookmarks.

She's still getting used to it, but it's not a bad change.  Maybe it is faster.  Maybe it's better.  Maybe she won't notice any difference at all.

Just taking baby steps at growing.

For those of you who are scratching your heads, wondering why in the world I'm doing what I'm doing, just remember that life is complicated, but every once in a while you're placed in a situation that provides extraordinary clarity.  Forks unify into one pathway, and it's not dark or frightening, but just what is right.

I'm in repair here, always trying to be a better person.  The most important things to me are my God and my relationships with my family and loved ones.  Sometimes those need to take charge, and you know what?  It's been a change, but not a hard one.

In fact... I'm really excited about what the recent changes are enabling me to do.

That chapter is closed, and now to work on the next chapter.  Improving sensitivity, or how Jen needs to stop being so freaking sensitive.

for dad.

in 10 words or less?

because it's the right thing to do.

gross.

look at the baby mama of the Governator's illegitimate child.

blogging friends.

This is hysterical.

Kelsey and I met in a ward that I'm pretty sure we both hoped we'd be out of soon (check for both of us), and then bonded as blogging friends who occasionally attended the same Islamic Humanities class at the same time.

She's funny, bright, and beautifully honest.

Read it.  Really.  Because when will you get a real story about a girl trapped into telling a midwife about her nonexistent pregnancy just because of the awkwardness of the situation?  Now, actually.

Dear Universe:

This is my dream job.  Everything about it is lovely and wonderful and chic and pristine in clear, black and white political-cartoon-wonderfulness.  Art, music, politics, pop culture.  It's everything that I love (with the exception of Peeps and Skittles and Babybel cheese rounds - but I'm willing to overlook this).  My 12-year-old-boy-taste-buds aside, it's everything that I love about writing and reading and learning how to read like a writer and write for your readers.

So please, please, please.  Somehow.  Someway.

I need to get to a place where I can write an article that is filled to the brim with witticisms and references that only the most versed pick up on, all while discussing the sordid, serious, and silly in political campaigning.  Like this one.

Blair Waldorf would find a way to do it.  I must find a way to do it.

post script.

a lot of my friends have tumblrs.  The point I was making is that it makes sense for them, because they're artistic and creative and don't need a magazine spread to connect all of the dots.

unlike me.

Speaking of learned behavior, I'm content to let Whitney style me and my home for the rest of my life.  She doesn't have a tumblr, but from what I've observed, she definitely should.

a post my dad will undoubtedly text me about.

Do you know anyone who is okay with being considered foolish?  One would assume that individuals would avoid the dunce cap and cross-eyed look, but human nature dictates that if we don't learn from experiences and push our behavior forward into a more learned and appropriate state, then...well... don't we sort of deserve what we get?

What makes this so difficult sometimes is that we have all of this ingrained behavior from our youth, and the learned behavior is tough to overcome once we become knowledgeable enough to realize that it's stupid behavior.

Why else would we constantly allow ourselves to make the same mistake five thousand times?  To give a weakness permission to run the course of our existence.  To be content with the cyclical process.  To accept less than we deserve.

I wish I could tell you everything and expose what gnaws at my skin (besides the fact that it's 18 days post-sunburn and I'm still peeling), but I'm still in the process of accepting it.  I've seen it in so many other people as I've observed on the periphery, and I have no problem recognizing it in them.  The difficulty for me is that it's not exactly a bad thing.  Like a lot of traits, it's probably just a little rough when allowed some measure of excess and control.

Remember my boxes?

I've become really adept at categorizing, labeling, and utilizing them appropriately, if I'm allowed to say that out loud.

But I don't want to categorize or label or utilize a box for this.

It defeats the purpose, and I refuse to live a life out of a sometimes-full container that is depleted more than it's replaced.

in order to be trendy

it would appear that I need a tumblr.  Which means I would probably need to know what that is.  From my mostly uninformed estimation, I'm not exactly a tumblr kind of girl.  I don't get it.  What is it?  A blog?  But wait... no one ever really says anything except "oh my heart the color scheme" underneath some artsy photograph of a mostly pretty person in mostly pretty clothing.

Is it twitter with already-full-size-and-no-need-to-expand-them-pictures?  The hipster version of a blog?  The trendy way to impose our thoughts on others?

No thanks.

I had a twitter two years ago and didn't start seeing the benefit/use/need until this year.  One time, I publicly denounced skinny jeans on facebook.  I reserve the right to feel this way about tumblr, but seeing as I'm the antithesis of trendy or/and hipster, it's probably not going to happen.

today is a sad day.

the saddest, actually.  Like.... can't remember a time in my life that could have been considered sadder.

WHY IS THE UNIVERSE ALWAYS MAKING ME LEAVE THE PLACES I WANT TO BE?

California.  The Tanners.  Next it's going to exile me from my own home and I'm going to be forced to choose between my shoes and my books.

Like I said.

SAD DAY.

a bit of an ode.

This week has been really odd, because I've been "watching" the Tanner kids while their parents, Whitney, and M-ers have been off partying in Cabo.  Living in this home has been such a remarkable blessing, and I have no qualms in saying this has been the best "apartment" I've lived in during my young adult, college years.  But I was suddenly thrust from being buds to these teenagers to being a disciplinarian, and it's not been easy.  I've loved the relationship I've fostered with each over the past year and a half.  They trust me, I trust them, I genuinely enjoy spending time with them, and I love them as additional siblings.  Let's just say I have a renewed respect for my parents, and particularly my mom.

When my parents divorced, my mom and I moved to California, leaving my dad and little brother behind in Connecticut.  She and I became buds because we didn't have anyone else.  I'll always be grateful to God for that time with my mother, for allowing me to see her as a remarkable human being who was struggling to do what was right by her children while still finding a way to survive amidst pain and suffering.  Her work ethic, her faith, and her strength are the things I hope I'm learning from her - I really hope that I can match those qualities.

Thank you to a mom who forced all of those piano lessons upon me - who would I be without them?  Thank you to a mom who found the best teachers I could train with - these wonderful women reinforced what my own mom was teaching me every day.  Thank you to a mom who fights for what she believes - I have no doubt that the fight I have within me is a direct result of seeing her passion.

And thanks for seemingly forcing Disneyland upon me - just like piano, and dance, and singing, I lalalove it.  I guess you sort of knew what you were doing ;)

Love you, Mom.

.

Everything I've written in here over the last ten minutes has been erased, re-written, re-erased, hashed out in my mind, and metaphorically crumpled into a ball and tossed in the trash.

Clearly I have nothing to say because everything I think I have to say is impossible.

namaste.

EDIT

I can say this:  Happy birthday to my dear friend Jon.  I love the chapters you've been a part of in my life, and I love that 7 years later, you are still my friend.  They don't make very many like you :) 

.

there I just said it, I'm scared you'll forget about me.

wants? needs?

This is definitely on my wish list.

for future reference.

A couple got married yesterday, which is mostly neat, but is mostly not that big of a deal because their ceremony was boring and I'm not actually English.

However, I found the fashion to be wonderfully entertaining.  And I fell in love with this:

Raise the neckline ever so slightly and it's perfect.  Want want want want want.