Don't Dream it's Over

For some reason, this song has made me strangely sentimental lately. I don't feel like anything is ending and I don't feel helpless or hopeless Yet, I just keep listening to this song on repeat because it feels like what I want to feel? If that makes any sense. I feel like although nothing is ending, failing, or helpless. This song gives me hope of some sort. And I feel like I need that.

I guess maybe I feel stuck. I've been in a nostalgic wave lately.

All I can think of is what use to be.

Nostalgia is a funny thing. The way that it creeps into your body and makes you long for the past.

I love change.

But sometimes I  have a hard time grasping all that comes with it.

For instance, recently, this boy left on his mission.

And for some reason him leaving has made all the change in my life in the past two years so much more real.

Saying goodbye to him felt like I was saying goodbye to a lot more than just one of my great friends from high school.

Ever since, all I can do is remember.

The happiness, the feelings of absolute freedom, the feelings of having friends who would never leave you, friends who thought the world of you and wanted nothing more than to have you around, and feeling the same way about them.

I think that most of all, I miss the feelings of childish puppy love. I feel like I've lost all capability to feel those anymore. It was so much fun back then. Just thinking about being around Ethan use to give me butterflies in my stomach. When I'd see Micheal, my face lit up, probably enough to light the entire auditorium. I miss wanting to discuss every detail of my dates with my friends. I miss the way that I'd get distracted just thinking about a boy while I was trying to watch a movie or read a book. I miss the dramatic stories that my mind use to come up with. I can't help but smile as I think of the first time Ethan held my hand as we were running through a Walmart or when we use to play ultimate frisbee and he would hug me whenever there was a lull in the game or if he was guarding me. It all goes through my mind like some montage from a 90's movie.

I feel like now that it has to be all  mature. That if I like a boy and that if I feel those butterflies -

then it's not adult enough. That love has to be serious to be real.

That childish puppy love is just that and it can never turn into actual love.

I kind of resent that idea. It makes me want to not be a grown-up.

I feel like all the emotions I had then were so much more real than anything I've felt since.

I want someone to tell me that I'm wrong. That real love can be childish. 

So maybe I was wrong, maybe I do feel like something is ending or that something has never even began.

But I was definitely right saying that I feel like I need that hope.

I Feel Pretty

I wouldn't say that I'm obsessed with how I look. In fact, I feel pretty great having short hair, never wearing make-up, and always wearing my glasses. I am constantly saddened when I hear remarks from the beautiful people in my life such as:

"I just look ugly today"
"I look fat"
"I need to work out more"
"My hair just is stupid today"
"I need to eat less"
"I can't, or I'll get fat"

It's true that most girls (and probably most boys) have struggles with accepting their appearance. There is always someone who looks prettier and there is always something that won't be perfect. I have written several papers on the definition of beauty. It's one of those things that I get passionate about. It's why I want to work with women with eating disorders. I want the everyone in the world to see themselves in a positive way. Because I rarely meet an ugly person but I'm sure I've met plenty of people who feel as if they are ugly.

I usually pride myself on how comfortable I am in my own skin. It's probably pretty comparable to vanity. But I don't think it's THAT bad. But I have a confession to make. It's a confession that was inspired by an episode of Glee. In the episode they sing this beautiful song (check it out, I dare you) and then you find out that the beautiful cheerleader use to be not as perfect looking.

As the character tells her story. It reminds me a lot of my own. I looked different in middle school. I found out that I was athletic when I started playing soccer and lost quite a bit of weight and then went through a growth spurt. I stopped wearing glasses, had braces, and started parting my hair on the side. Instead of straight down the middle. I started wearing clothes that fit me better and in the middle of all of this, I moved to a different state. And I gained a lot more confidence. I became a totally different person.

But unlike the character in the show, I don't hate what I looked like. It doesn't haunt me to think that someone might find out. I definitely don't think that what I looked like or what I did in middle school is killing who I can become. But I know that it's a part of me and in ways, it still haunts me. I once showed these pictures to a friend and he said "Is that really you?" What he didn't realize when he said this is that sometimes if I don't look in a mirror, that is how I picture myself in my head. Sometimes if I'm even looking in the mirror, that's what I see. I see my little eighth grade self. I often feel as if nothing has changed.

But so much as changed. And really, I'm glad that I'm still connected to that self from middle school. But most of all. I'm glad that I can look in the mirror and think that I look beautiful. In a recent talk to the men of the church President Thomas S. Monson said:

And although I can't really recall a time when a man other than my father told me I was beautiful, except for once. I feel blessed to have the confidence to know that I am beautiful. That even when I see myself as being in my middle school body, that I still feel beautiful. And I think he has a point. Every one deserves to feel that way. And maybe telling them has the effect to make it especially true. And that maybe, it will make a difference. 

And maybe they need to be reminded because maybe,

they aren't seeing themselves for who they are that day.

slow dancing in a burning room

A about a year and a half ago, I had a friend take me to a place that I was always too afraid to go to. When we walked in the door, I realized that I was never going to be the same. There was something special about that place that I just couldn't let it leave my life.

Since that night, I have met some interesting people. The good, and the bad kind of interesting. Yet, I love all of them. I have never been in such a judgment free place in my life. To everyone there, it is simply a place to bond over a shared love.

I've gained some of the most wonderful of friends.

They have taught me so much.

mostly, I've learned that you can't take life to seriously.

you have to laugh, you have to dance

you have to completely be yourself and let people accept it.

you have to be real.

When I found out that this place was going to be discontinued as a venue. It saddened me a bit.

It's not so much that I won't be dancing, or that I won't have those people.

Those will thankfully remain the same.

It's just the place that will be gone. And I will miss it.

But the dancing will go on. If there's anything I've learned, is that you can dance as long as you can move.

music is preferred, but completely optional.
Lessons have been learned. Lessons have been taught.
And every time, I keep learning more.

I'm not actually at Blue Tango in this picture.
It just so happens to be the only picture I have of me dancing.

yes we're lovers, and that is that.

A few weeks ago, I went to go see a movie. Usually, movies are good for numbing. Mental and emotional numbing. Just to forget everything that is happening in your life and just sit and not feel emotions for you. But feel for the characters. Watching the movie you feel happiness, heartbreak, frustration, sadness, complete loneliness, and so many other things as the character feels it. And then you leave the theater feeling particularly exhausted from all the feeling and your emotions slowly ease their way back into your body.

This is not what always happens. It's mostly a choice that I make, to numb all that is going on around me. That night. I definitely went into the movie ready to numb myself from all that has been on my mind. To feel someone else's emotions, because I was tired of mine. I saw a beautiful movie. It was amazing. And as I watched it, I felt the numbing. But while I was leaving, I realized that I wasn't numb. In fact, I was invigorated. As the character in the movie said, "I feel infinite". 

The rain was falling. It wasn't pouring. It wasn't sprinkling. It was simply raining. I love the rain. We were driving home and this glorious song came on the radio. And I felt good. I felt happy. All the emotions I had been feeling had been resolved. I don't know how to describe it. I felt like a weight had been lifted off, though I never knew that I had the weight there. It was like all of my feelings this past month were not mine and that I finally have all of my feelings back. I felt alive. I still feel that way. 

I feel like myself.

Not to say there haven't been moments that I've felt like myself in the past little while.

But I feel like I have woken from some melancholy dream in which I was living someone else's life.

And now I am myself for real.

this one's a fighter

I have so much to say about this picture. Yet I have no idea how to say it. I've tried to post it over and over this past week. But I have no words. So I'll just post the picture.

some folks like to get away...

 I love my job. I have a great boss, some fantastic co-workers, and three beta fish. There's something about feeding those fish that fills my life with purpose. I enjoy the responsibility I feel as I go to work each day and accomplish my assigned tasks. When I first started working in the lab, I felt mentally exhausted at the end of each day. I felt like I had to learn so much. It wasn't easy.

 But I'm getting use to it now. I am feeling more comfortable tasting the Latin as I speak it. I making sense of the intricate details on the small specimens. I can tell you what a halter is and where to find the calypters and the coxae. My task at the moment strays a bit from my learning. And now, instead of mental exhaustion, I am often finding myself emotionally exhausted at the end of my shifts. 

Solitude is a beautiful thing, I find it hard to find in this bustling college town. But as I sit at work and archive my boss's photo collection, I get pretty close to the feeling of complete oneness. The feeling of just being with myself. I usually spend my time thinking through my actions in the future and analyzing my actions in the past. I often find myself imagining what could have been, how I could have made it different, and then I remember that what is, is. And that I have no choice but to make different choices in the future. Like I said, it's exhausting. 

But I learn a lot. A lot about myself. Sometimes I let myself get lost in the pictures. I just spent three weeks travelling the world while sitting at a computer in Provo. For two of those weeks, I was in Mongolia. I fell in the love with the culture, the scenery, the people. It's all so beautiful. By the end of the two weeks, I was beginning to miss this place that I have never been. Mongolia looks so untouched, the people look so serene. Maybe not happy, but content. I just want to wander through it's hills, sit by it's rivers and lose and find myself all at the same time. 

Until then, I guess will have to settle for the beauty of a photograph

and the solitude of a small lab in Provo.

It's Time to Begin

When I was sixteen, a song came on my Pandora. It spoke to me. It was one of those moments where a song seems to be able to perfectly capture your emotions. It's so comforting in that moment, when you need it most.

What I didn't know is that four years later, I'd be coming home from long days and still listen to the song, finding comfort in it's words.

This past year, I have learned so much about myself. It hasn't been easy.

I have had time to analyze myself. I have recognized my habits.

I have broken a lot of bad ones.

I have formed a lot of good ones.

I'm still working on a few.

I use to play the game. I always had my eye on a boy, trying to get him to fall for me.

My brother called me a vixen, a maneater even. My mom once used the word vindictive.

Those words may be a little strong. But maybe not.

I was good at getting what I wanted. I was good at playing the game.

I liked it. I had fun. I wasn't getting hurt.

But this past year, the game hasn't seemed as fun.

I'm pretty sure if my brother saw me now-

vixen and maneater would not be his words.

He'd  probably use the words boring and sweet spirited. Maybe even shrew.

But who am I to put words in my  brother's mouth.

I sometimes try to make a connection to that self of mine. She seems to be far away.

I feel like I'm different than I use to be, but as it would turn out, I still find comfort in the same song, and that seems like enough.

And as I look at the person I've become, I like her.

She knows how to control her emotions. She's at peace with herself and others.

She's young. She's alive. She's free.

And she loves. She loves a lot.

So Independence Day has come, time has passed, and it keeps going. And that is what makes life such an adventure.

I'm pretty sure when looking at this picture, your first thought should be "coordinated".
Followed by the thought "dang attractive".