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Posts Tagged ‘things’

Have A Grateful Day

June 23rd, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

I just introduced my two little monkeys to the Woopie Cushion, I wish you could hear the laughter in our home right now. Not quite sure if this was a good idea or not, but right now it’s pretty hilarious. Anyways, when we were out driving, the car ahead of us had a sticker that read, “Have a Grateful Day”. It totally changed my point of view for the day! Frankly ALL day long I’ve been dreading the things I had to do, and now I’m just thinking of how grateful I am for all those dreadful things (which truly aren’t dreadful at all) that I get to do. Funny how a change of mind can completely change the outlook of your day.

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Have A Grateful Day

Favorite Auntie Award goes to Natalie

June 16th, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

After 9 long months of Hailey being prego – she finally popped out the most adorable, teeny, tiny baby.

May I introduce Ava (middle name undecided) Bello

Born: June 15, 2010
Time: 6:30pm-ish
Weight: 5 lb 12 oz (TEENY!!!)


Honestly, I just want to cuddle with her all day. ALL. DAY. I’m half tempted to quit my job, move back in with my parents (to mooch off them, of course) and then hang out with this adorable pumpkin all day.

Look how fab Hailey looks have being in labor for 10 hours!

And of course, here is Ava with her favorite auntie.

I’ll teach her all the important things in life: 1) Humor 2) Clothes and 3) Boys. I won’t let her know that I really don’t know anything about those 3 things, but I’ll buy her things to make her love me. I am not beneath buying her affection. Not at all.

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Favorite Auntie Award goes to Natalie

Utah vs. Ohio

March 30th, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments


High winds here in the valley have kicked up a ton of dust and turned our air quality to crap. Imagine looking out of your window and seeing nothing but a thick fog. Now imagine walking out your front door to discover that the “fog” is actually hot air whirling around with dirt in it. Yum.

I was feeling crabby on the way to the grocery store today, so I made a mental list of all the things I didn’t like about Utah, dust storms included. Then I made a list of all the things I loved about Ohio. Of course, by the time I got to the store, I had started to remember all of the things I didn’t like about Ohio and how much better it was here in Utah. It went something like this:

UTAH vs OHIO

Weather – Utah has dust storms and inversion, but I’ll take those over the ice storms, pounding rain, and humid summers of Ohio. Plus, the snow here is just so fluffy and cheerful! It’s like we’re living on the set of a holiday movie.

Social life – If you want to go out to do something here in Utah, you’re going to have to drive for a while and you’ll probably be eating something. Ohio wins with lots of activities within walkable distance and a good atmosphere for going to bars without spending $90 in two hours. Plus, with Margi’s upcoming move to Cleveland, Kyle and I officially have more friends living in Ohio than in any other state in the country.

Community – It’s a little plastic around here, but Utah definitely wins with lots of family friendly events and people who really enjoy helping out their neighbors. Plus, the area where we used to live had really, really high statistics for occurrences of sexual assault, which sort of puts a damper on the community spirit.

Cuisine – It’s a draw between the two, although Utah has the upper hand on fresh food and good Mexican. However, I can’t forget the deep fried pickles and ridiculous stacked burgers of the midwest.

Traffic – I’d say it was a draw, but Kyle enjoys the traffic in Ohio more. He’d rather deal with crazy drivers doing 90MPH than the fact that everyone in Salt Lake City takes the same four roads to get to and from work.

Jobs – It’s a lot easier to find work in Utah, which means you’re more likely to get a job you’re happy with and stay there. Plus, tons of people are now on a 4-day work week here, so Utah wins twice.

Weekend trips – Ohio wins, even though Utah is just a little bit away from both Yellowstone National Park and Las Vegas. The problems aren’t the destination, they’re the drives. In Ohio when you drive somewhere for the weekend, you pass interesting things, little towns, and general stuff to look at. In Utah, when you drive somewhere for the weekend, you pass salt and dirt until you get there. There’s nothing else. Maybe cows. But mostly dirt.

Proximity to Disney parks (what? it’s important to us!) – It’s a tie. Disneyland is a day trip away, making it closer than Walt Disney World is to Ohio, but we like WDW more. No wins here.

Sigh. I don’t really mind Utah, when I don’t have to chew the air. I even felt a little disloyal by the time I got to the grocery store, so we’re having green Jello with dinner tonight, with oranges in it and everything. I just need to get a little bit of that beehive spirit back!

(Note: Ohio’s state symbol isn’t a beehive. Plus one to Ohio.)


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Utah vs. Ohio

The Things I Don’t Blog About – Part Two

March 24th, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

You know, I believe there are definitely things that you shouldn’t talk about in polite conversation. In fact, unless you are insulated by many, many cocktails and surrounded by very close friends, you shouldn’t talk about them in any conversation. For me, that list includes unpleasant bodily functions, secret racist/homophobic/classist/misogynistic thoughts, and graphic details of your sex life. One of my least favorite things in the world is the phrase, “I really shouldn’t be telling you this..,” because whatever comes next is usually in those three categories listed above.

But there are other things that don’t get talked about. For people my age, this usually includes marital problems or professional frustrations. For example, I have friends who are having a hard time in their marriage or who aren’t getting the job or promotion they feel they deserve…but we don’t talk about that stuff. It’s always there underneath the surface, but I certainly don’t feel right bringing it up. Is that a good thing? I don’t know. Sometimes I wonder if I’m supposed to be bringing it up so the person has an outlet to talk about, but then I think it might be pretentious for me to assume they want to share those things with me or anyone else, for that matter.

The funny thing is, I don’t usually have that kind of stuff. Sure, I have things that are personal, but I’m one of those open book people who doesn’t keep a whole lot under lock. Part of that is luck – I haven’t had that many things in my life that were too painful or embarrassing to share. Sure, I have my moments of uncertainty and insecurity and disappointment, but I’ve always found that sharing them takes the edge off for me. That’s why I adore my friends so much. Those listening ears make everything better.

But there’s been this thing. And it’s just been here with me and Kyle, lurking in the background. We haven’t talked to many people about it and we haven’t even talked about it with each other more often than we had to. We finally had one of those things…those rotten things that go on in your life that you don’t want to talk about or acknowledge or share. This is a new thing for us and it’s been…well, just plain rotten.

Unfortunately, this thing also doesn’t seem to be taking care of itself and going away, so I’m starting to realize that we’re going to have to acknowledge it at some point. It is my hope that this thing, like so many other things, will be easier for us to wrap our brains around if we start bringing it out in the open and letting it just be there. So, to let it be there, I’m going to bring it here, on this most public of forums. Today, I’m just that brave.

Long story short: We want a baby and have been trying. It’s not going well.

You didn’t see it, but there was a long pause after I typed that last sentence. What else should I say? I don’t want to drag out the whole story, but I also don’t want to cheat and leave it there. What kind of details am I supposed to bring up? Is it ok that I’m talking about this? Is this a personal story that we’re supposed to keep in house? Will it make any difference that I’m writing this out at all?

Since we got married, we’ve had four miscarriages. Each time we confirmed the pregnancy with the doctor, we bought little things like books and articles of clothing and each time it went away, I packed those things up and took them downstairs. We’ve tucked money away since before we got married so that we had a fund that was just for Baby Morgan. I didn’t look for work when we moved because we figured I’d just have to go on maternity leave anyway, but now, under doctor instructions to stop trying, it looks like we’ll need a new plan. The thought of working and using the baby fund to buy a new car isn’t a tragedy, per se, but it’s sort of aching in a very strange way…like disappointment in very slow motion.

We haven’t given up hope by any stretch of the imagine, since we’re both so young, but every now and then I feel like we just look at each other with total surprise…I don’t know when this will become our normal. I have absolutely no idea how to fit this chapter into our story.

We don’t know how to talk about this with other people. We don’t know how to talk about it to each other. And, I suppose we don’t even know if we’re supposed to talk about it. Nobody else is talking about it, which means lots of people are just going on like they didn’t just hit a major speedbump. Is that what we should be doing? I don’t know. It’s not the worst idea, really. Just keep swimming…


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The Things I Don’t Blog About – Part Two

The Things I Don’t Blog About – Part One

March 23rd, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

I’m writing a lot these days. I now have three fairly large blogs that I try to keep up with. I’m still working as a freelance writer and I have a combination of little and large projects that are keeping me occupied. When I can, I exchange witty emails with my oldest of friends, to make up for the severe lack of luncheons and movie nights that have become geographically impossible. And then there’s the rest…emails from readers that turn into long exchanges, scribbling in the journals that have slowly started to take over our room, notes that hang on the wall and threaten eternal fatness if I don’t get myself to the gym…everywhere I turn there’s just words and words and words. And I’m writing them.

But what about the things that don’t get written? A friend complained recently that I never write about her on the blog and I pointed out that I very rarely receive good returns when I write about real people outside of my husband and myself. Even with good intentions, my large mouth has repeatedly gotten me into trouble, so I no longer write about my social circle. (I also enjoy irking this friend, which is why I’m referring to her as “friend” and not by her name. Oh, she’s going to be fur-i-0us!)

I also don’t write about my work very much because it just feels like I should be keeping it separate. It’s true that I’m not working in a scary, executive job where it would serve me well to have a professional image that resembles a 24/7 paper-pushing cyborg with no emotions or personal life. Still, I’m not sure that the people I work for would want to give thousands of dollars to the freelancer that eats pork uterus and didn’t even have a decent first kiss! My thin, little professional bubble needs to remain in tact…at least a little.

But there’s other stuff as well. Stuff that doesn’t come out because I do know how public this writing is. They aren’t terrible secrets or embarrassing overshares…they’re just things that are private because they are mine…or in many cases, ours. Kyle has nearly no control over these online windows into our life and although he’s a saint about it, I can’t trade cheaply in the things that are intimate to our us-ness. It just wouldn’t be fair.

I’ve been struggling a little, though, with feeling dishonest. I get so many letters from people who feel like they know me, but as a friend recently pointed out, I’m not really what I appear to be in these little essays. I’m not particularly kind, not particularly interesting, and not particularly good company. Or, perhaps, you do see me and it’s the familiar bitchiness and total loss of control scattered throughout my existence that’s actually appealing.

I don’t know…but what I do know is this: it is easier for me to do this than it is for me to do anything else and it helps me to do this, even though I’m sure it seems narcissistic and petty to keep a blog only about this little life. So, it’s hard when I can’t write about the things that are here below the surface and, in a way, I do so want you to know what’s really here. Perhaps it is the validation, but I mostly think that when I’m honest I’m also holding myself accountable for things. It sort of keeps me from burying my head in the sand and missing my life.

Is it possible, safe, or even sane to be more open on a personal blog without crossing into the land of “Why in God’s name would she ever put that on the Internet?” I don’t know…

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The Things I Don’t Blog About – Part One

the mini update

March 3rd, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

Life: Just wonderful. We are all healthly and pretty darn happy.

Baby: Wiggly! She is trying to make her way in to the world earlier and earlier! Now our due date to meet her is Sunday the 14th, in the wee morning hours! No, we do not have a name selected- we’re going with the ol’ “wait-and-see-what-she-looks-like” routine. :)

Lyvia: As darling as ever. She’s pretty excited for her new baby sister and talks about all the things she’ll be teaching the baby. Right now, the top thing for Lyv to teach baby is how to dance- “I’ll teach her to twirl and jump and kick and wear a princess dress.” So cute!

Jason: Hunky. His knee is feeling good and he’s back to playing basketball. Working hard and taking care of his harem of girls!

Bryttin: Growing. Happy. Ready for the baby to arrive.

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the mini update

Cooking Up Memories

February 9th, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments


I love breakfast food.

Oatmeal, scrambled eggs, pancakes, waffles, spun honey, orange slices, Cream of Wheat, abelskievers, German pancakes, melon, bacon, Christmas Strata, sausage, omelets, fresh berries, orange juice, French Toast, crepes, hot chocolate, homemade jam and butter on everything.

Breakfast is delicious. Breakfast is my comfort food. Pure love!

Breakfast reminds me of being at the cabin. The fire burning in the wood stove and my Grammy making her famous pancakes that no one can seem to replicate. It reminds me of growing up and my mom making a big pot of Cream of Wheat before school. We’d sweeten our steaming bowls with honey and milk then scoop up the cereal with toast instead of spoons. It reminds me of eating millions of ableskievers topped with homemade buttermilk syrup at the New Years Day breakfast at my Nana’s house. It reminds me of Saturday mornings when my dad made waffles and spun honey to top them with. Or birthday breakfasts with friends over and everyone still wearing pajamas. Or the camping trip when Jason and I ruined scrambled eggs and then ate them anyway, laughing the whole time.

Now, I cook breakfast just about everyday for my family. For sure every weekend. Sometimes for dinner during the week! Something about cooking this simple meal stirs up good memories and love. Sometimes cooking does that to me. Helps me realize that I’m not just nourishing their bodies with this food- but really showing them how much they mean to me, how much I love them. Sharing something I love with people I love! It’s amazing how food does this. How it can stir up memories or help you recall old times- or make a new memory. Of course, no post of mine would be complete without a list…so here are a few other favorite foodie memories of mine:

  • Having root-beer floats always remind me of my Great-Grandma Foulger. I was lucky enough to grow up with this great woman, and cook. She made all sorts of fabulous dishes and desserts. But one of the things I remember most was going to her house and she’d always have the fixings for a root-beer float. And my mom would always let us have one- no matter how close to dinner!
  • My mom’s “specialty dinner” is pork chops and rice. It is divine! I know she says that the recipe is easy, but somehow mine never turn out quite as moist or delicious as hers. This simple meal reminds me of Thanksgiving- when my mom hosts the Gratitude Dinner with all my siblings and we talk about all the things we’re grateful for. It’s this grand display of my mother’s love for parties and family all mixed-up in one.
  • Peanut butter bars make me think of connecting with other women and becoming friends. The “no-matter-what” kind that you don’t feel embarrassed to come over in your pajamas or cry in front of. And I think that is the best kind.
  • Meatloaf has always been on my top ten list of favorite foods. But one meatloaf, in particular, reminds me of Jason. He made this for me on one of our earlier dates as well as several special occasions in our marriage. (Do Friday nights count as “special occasions”?) He has two specialties: meatloaf with Jones Special Sauce and Chicken Enchiladas. Whenever it’s his turn to cook, I’m treated to one of these delicious and satisfying meals. As both are fairly labor intensive, I know I’m loved!

Smells, tastes, sounds…they all can remind us of a spark of memory or a flash of a loved one.
So really it’s not just breakfast.
It’s love.

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Cooking Up Memories

It’s My Birthday and I’ll Blog if I Want To

January 31st, 2010 Classmate Blogs No comments

I recently (as in the last half hour) had the following conversation with my husband:

Me: Hon, could you come here for a minute?
Kyle: What’s up?
Me: Will you take my picture?
Kyle: Doing what?
Me: Not doing anything. Just sitting here in my chair.
Kyle: Why?
Me: Because it’s my birthday.
Kyle: You hate your birthday. And you hate having your picture taken.
Me: Can you take it, please?
Kyle: You don’t even like to let me hold your fancy camera.
Me: Take my picture.
Kyle: If I take it, you’ll just upload it and go “Yuck!” and delete it immediately.
Me: TAKE MY PICTURE.

He’s right, you know. I do hate having my picture taken. And I really don’t like my birthday. I wouldn’t say that I hate my birthday, because birthdays usually come with playing board games and eating out with my family and friends and I like all of that stuff. I just don’t like the actual birthday part. Never have. Think it sucks.

The funny thing is, this isn’t just vanity about not wanting to get older. In fact, the opposite is probably true. I used to hate to celebrate my birthday in school because I was a year younger than all of my friends and my birthday was the day that everyone teased me about being such a little kid, even in high school. In an attempt to soothe my birthday angst, my mother ineffectively tried to make the day better by buying outlandish birthday treats for my home room and making a big deal. This was pretty unbearable. It’s hard to sink into the background and pretend your birthday is no big deal when you’re giving out gift bags that resemble the ones they give out at the Oscars.

Le sigh. I don’t know when it flipped and went the other direction. Now I don’t want to get any older. This means, of course, that at some point I had the perfect birthday where I turned just the right age. I have no idea when this was. There’s a pretty big chance that I slept through it.

I’m trying to change my attitude, though. I was bummed out on the way to church this morning, thinking about all the things that I haven’t done and how 27 just isn’t looking the way I thought it would. I caught myself and made myself start listing things that I have done…going from the “to-do” list to the “ta da!” list, if you will. I won’t list them all here, because it’s the same old stuff, but the trick did manage to up my mood a little bit.

So, I’m celebrating. Ok, maybe “celebrating” is overstating it, but I’m non-pouting and making every attempt to lean in the celebratory direction. Hence the picture. Yes, it might not be my favorite picture in the world right now, but when I’m turning 37, it’s going to be the picture I look at wistfully while I attempt to not sulk about it being January 31st.

To guard against a birthday relapse, I’ve written a note to myself for next year and tucked it into a journal that I write in every birthday. It says:

Dear Carly #28,

You’re turning 28 and this is not a terrible thing. Instead of thinking about everything you wanted to do at 28, you should spend the day celebrating the things that have happened because you’ve been on the planet for the last 28 years. It’s a pretty long list and the stuff on it isn’t too bad.

And cheer up! It’s a whole other year until your next birthday!

Love, Carly #27

Carly #1
Carly #27

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It’s My Birthday and I’ll Blog if I Want To

For my husband

December 5th, 2009 Classmate Blogs No comments

If you know me at all, you know that I could seriously care less about football…or any sport for that matter. But this is certainly not the case when it comes to my better half, who rather enjoys following and occasionally watching his precious BYU. I grew up cheering for the U, but since the degree I have came from the Y and my husband is an avid fan, I have found myself leaning more towards the blue side of things, if I lean at all. So this picture is for B-RAD. This is me expressing interest in the things you love. :)

PS- Speaking of Brad, the other night Nick was pretending to write a letter to someone. He spoke out loud as he wrote and Brad and I overheard the following: ” Tomorrow is going to be such a wonderful day. Daddy is going to stay home and play with the kids, and Mommy is going to do our dishes!” Hmmm. I never have been the ‘fun’ parent. :(

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For my husband

A friend of mine is going through a breakup. She's doing ok,

October 23rd, 2009 Dan No comments

A friend of mine is going through a breakup. She’s doing ok, but it’s only been about a week and a half and she’s right in that it-still-hurts-just-as-much-but-there’s-nothing-left-to-say phase. I went through all the usual “you deserve better” and “he’ll be sorry” at first, but now our conversations have pretty much boiled down to her saying, “yep, he’s still gone” and me saying, “dude….that sucks…”

Talking about it with her has naturally brought up my own past experiences and I realized something rather profound recently. I shared it with her, but she’s not in that place where she can believe what I’m saying, so until she gets there, I’ll share it with you:

My breakup is the number one thing in my life that made me a better person.

I’m serious, it really was. (And by “my breakup”, I’m referring to the end of my long term relationship with my college boyfriend.) That one adolescent act altered my inner self more than study or trauma or even death ever has. I can actually say that my breakup altered me more than my marriage did, which is pretty incredible when you really think about it! Let me break it down…

I’ve written about my breakup before, but it’s usually been in the context of this really hard things that I went through and when I came out the other side, I found Kyle waiting for me. That is my favorite perspective on it, but it does simplify things quite a bit. It suggests that it was this nasty thing that I just needed to get past so that I could be done with it, when in reality it was a major shift in my personality tectonic plates.

Before my breakup…no, wait, let’s go back even further…before my college relationship, I had a pretty set view on life. I was much more concerned with getting ahead in my education and occupation than I was in relationships. I felt like I was constantly at battle with everyone around me, including friends and family, simply because everything was always such a struggle. I think everyone has this feeling at some point in adolescence, although we approach it differently. My approach was to come out swinging. I figured that if I could understand life, I could at least dominate it.

My college relationship started unexpectedly when Kate set me up on a blind date. It was summertime, life was easy, and by the next fall I had shifted my focus from conquering the world to conquering one person. The relationship that lasted for the next three years was one of constant struggle, as a result, because we were happy but also very insecure, possessive, and self-centered.

I think we both approached the relationship from the standpoint that we were going to force the relationship into whatever form we needed it to be so that we could have the life we deserved. In my mind, this meant that he would be a constant companion, unquestioning of my authority, and dependable as we built our home and raised our family. In his mind, this meant that I would be a constant companion, unquestioningly supportive of his career goals, and dependable as he made his mark on the world. Unfortunately, you can’t run a relationship simply on the fuel of wanting to constantly be together, especially when you’re driving each other crazy and you’re both there for different reasons.

When the relationship ended, not by my decision, I was crushed. I was completely bewildered, terrified of going on alone, and outraged that he had the audacity to veer from my life plan. My dependence on our relationship had honestly led to an atrophy of spirit. I was dependent on him for happiness, for support, for validation…and I was so used to him being there that my reaction was not one of concern for him, but rather the selfish anger of a hurt child. It was terrible.

And then…days and weeks of lying in bed later…I don’t know. It’s like sparks started to come back. I made lists of all the things that he had never wanted me to do, all the books and movies that he thought were too dumb to watch, all of the people he didn’t like me to hang around with…and I dove in. I think it started out as revenge, but it quickly grew into revival. I found new sources of happiness that didn’t have anything to do with anyone else and every good discovery left me wanting more. It was like I was famished for life experience.

Before I knew it, I had broken off into a different person. This person was new and still frightened about the future, but she was much stronger, much more content, and, ultimately, much more interesting than the person I had been. We talked about rekindling the relationship, but by then it was too late. I was on a trajectory that was leading me up and away from that old life and, as it turned out, I would never go back.

There are other things in my life that have profoundly affected me. Having Kyle in my life and experiencing love that I spent a long time not being able to understand is one of those things. Kyle has affected me by freely giving me stuff I didn’t know I needed. But I have to remember that if it hadn’t been for that bump on the road to where I am now, I wouldn’t have ended up being the person who could turn to Kyle and give back. And for that, even with all of the past pain, I am intensely, intensely grateful.

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A friend of mine is going through a breakup. She's doing ok,

She’s Just Ideal

August 12th, 2009 Classmate Blogs No comments

What is it about large changes that makes you re-evaluate who you really are? Whether it’s moving or graduation or a breakup or a divorce or a child…all of these are points in life where you take a step back and think, “is this really who I want to be?”

I’ve had these life-evaluating points in my life very often…more often than most, probably (self-obsession rears its ugly head)…but the life-evaluation phase that I’m currently in is hitting me like a hurricane. Who am I? What am I doing? What have I done with my life? Where is my path? What does it all mean?

I’m having a mid-twenties, mid-life crisis.


I gave myself the day off today, which is the first time I’ve done that since I lost my job. This isn’t to say that unemployment has been strenuous, but I’ve tried to get at least one grown-up thing done every day since I stopped working so that I can rationalize the fact that Kyle gets up and goes to work and I do not. Until this week, my life was pretty consumed with packing and since the moving truck came my life has been consumed with cleaning, painting, and using plaster to cover up some major points of damage in this little rental of ours. Oh, and there was that whole kitty rescue thing that I decided to throw in there for good measure.

Today, however, I made myself sit on my butt and do nothing. I read magazines. I watched Netflix on the iMac. I played with teh kittehs. And then…an hour into my day…I ran out of stuff to do. So I spent the rest of the day in deep thought about my life.

To be honest, I was a more interesting person before I moved to Ohio. I may have been much less happy, but I was a lot more interesting. I read almost two books every single day and could give you plot summaries for the top 20 on the New York Best Sellers list at any given time of year. I volunteered in the community and regularly donated my time. I attended free concerts and community theater and student art shows and all the other crap that shows up in those papers that are always laying around Starbucks. Oh, right, and I drank coffee from hole-in-the-wall local joints and bought all my books from independent book stores and made my own clothes. So I guess I wasn't really hanging around Starbucks in my Old Navy Jeans reading whatever was on the B&N clearance shelf. You know, like I do these days.

It’s true that the things I remember about my life are probably the things most people do in college and it could be age and not geography that’s the culprit, but I feel like I really sold out when I moved here. My first year of law school was like a massive meteor strike that sent my life spinning out of orbit and into this whole other pattern. Within two months of moving here I had changed the type of clothes I was wearing, where I was buying them…I totally chickened out and slipped into whatever I saw other people doing. That’s how freaked out about law school I was.

I’m not freaked out anymore, but I still feel like I’m eons away from that younger, cooler version of myself. Just last week I wandered into a local music store while waiting for Kyle to finish up at the DMV and I happened upon a fairly obscure Grateful Dead cd that I hadn’t seen in ages. Someone I used to work with owned it and we used to put it on all the time. I bought it and the car ride home was full of memories of all the interesting and creative crap I used to be into.


How did this happen? How did I end up being exactly the type of boring grown up I used to feel sorry for? I used to dye my hair purple. I used to be a regular at poetry slams. I was a nude model for college art classes, for God’s sake! What the hell happened to that person?

I’m deciding here and now that this move is going to be more than a catalyst for career change and weight loss. I’m going to try hard to get myself back on track so that I’m actually moving toward being the person I want to be. It took three years for Michaelangelo to stare down that massive block of marble and turn it into David. I sure as hell should be able to do this.


25 Things that My Ideal Self Will Do:

  1. Get back into photography and take it seriously.
  2. Get back into charcoal portraits.
  3. Write things that have nothing to do with blogging, journaling, or academics.
  4. Make her own clothing.
  5. Read library books and buy old editions from secondhand stores.
  6. Buy and redesign secondhand furniture.
  7. Use public transportation on a regular basis.
  8. Attend community events, especially the arts.
  9. Not tempt herself by having cable.
  10. Go to church at least twice a month.
  11. Put real effort into collecting family history.
  12. Run my own business.
  13. Shop local, especially the farmer’s markets.
  14. Be involved in social groups formed around common interests.
  15. Mentor a child or find another way to give back.
  16. Brush up my Spanish and start learning French.
  17. Surprise friends and family with mail.
  18. Handmake presents and other items.
  19. Wear my favorite perfume every day.
  20. Buy really fun socks and wear them without embarassment.
  21. Paint my nails.
  22. Take day trips with my husband whenever we can.
  23. Learn to play the guitar.
  24. Kick ass at Tomb Raider without feeling like a teenage boy.
  25. Listen to my folk music (even though nobody else does) and lose track of MTV’s hottest.

Now I just have to follow through…

Read more here:
She’s Just Ideal