Time Travel part 2

I know you're not supposed to look back, but I can't help it. I was cleaning out my inbox. I hate clutter and as I had no where to be today, I decided to go through the task of deleting emails that were no longer relevant. I have a self proclaimed aversion to numbers (I'm pretty sure it's some kind of learning disability), so I really can't remember if I had 3456 or 4892 or some other crazy big number of emails when I got started, but there were a lot. I would like to happily report that there are only 429 left (I know this number is accurate because I didn't have to remember it. It was clearly posted at the bottom of the page of my inbox.)

I created said email account when I was serving my mission in Italy because I had encountered some problems with my BYU email account. Mostly I was just super annoyed that it often wasn't working during the only time out of the whole week when I could check it. Thus was born the hotmail account. Now because of this, I have some emails saved since 2002! Crazy, I know! Especially because I think some of the kids in my ward in Orem may have not even been born yet! I digress . . .

The first step in cleaning out your inbox (especially when you've waited this long) is to just go through and pick out the ones you know you don't even need to read, just delete. Like all the Facebook notifications you used to get before you realized that you could change your settings so that you didn't need to hear every time someone made a comment after you made a comment on someone's photo or status. Also all the recipes you used to get from Martha Stewart (I know she wrote them personally to me) that probably don't even link to the recipe anymore because it hasn't been on the site for a few years.

My next step was to also delete all items related to my former calling as Stake YSA Rep. Can I just say how absolutely LIBERATING that felt?!?! And there was no worry. Now that I live in a completely different place, those emails are totally irrelevant! LIBERATED!!!

The last step on this metaphorical cleaning of the inbox is to go through (and I mean read or at least skim) the rest of the emails and decide if there are anymore that you can delete. This step is, of course, not normally required and is going above and beyond, but if you really want your inbox to be purged, it is necessary. You can read these remaining emails in either order, going from the newest to the oldest or the reverse - it's up to you. I prefer going from oldest to newest because then I feel they make more sense and so I did today.

This is the part where it all started to come together. After my last post, I have been sorta amazed at how time travel has sprouted into a little theme (I'm sure it's temporary) in my life. At least the topic continues to draw attention to itself. The Back to the Future trilogy being shown every night this week? Funny. Weird, even.

I managed to watch all three, though not in the right order (which is a shame). Tonight I was watching the second one (I had already watched the first and third) as I was reading through the emails that made the first couple of cuts. I realized as I watched Marty and Doc go back to 1955 again, that I, myself, was, in a way, traveling through time. Other people just write in their journals, but I'm the kind of lazy that would rather go through all my 3000+ old emails to preserve a record of my life than write directly to my posterity.

Coincidentally, I was also kind of traveling through time by using the DVR to pause when I needed to go to the bathroom etc. and then fast forward through the commercials and eventually, go . . . . back to the future! Unless I was just going back to my present? I dunno . . . I'll tell you what though, if they had shown some kind of DVR technology in the Back to the Future when they go to 2015, I would not have believed it. Think about it! Pausing TV! Rewinding TV! Fast forwarding through annoying commercials! It's ridiculous! Ridiculously AWESOME! I'm a huge fan. Except when someone in my family doesn't know I'm watching something "in the past" (you know, like when you don't plan to record something, you just start watching and the next thing you know you're watching 20 minutes behind the schedule) and changes the channel. Then all is lost! Especially if the show is already over in real time.

So where am I going with all this? Why, I'll share that with you right now!

A couple of things I learned from my trip back in time . . .

1. Internet used to take up your phone line. Not new information, but I had completely forgotten about that.

2. I am funniest when writing to my longtime friend, Jess. I'm not sure what it is about her that brings out the comedienne in me, but in the future *drum/cymbals sound you hear when a cheesy joke is told*, I will try to imagine these blog posts are intended for her so that you can all benefit from her comedic influence on me.

3. My former mission companion, Aleta, will probably never change (which is ok with me). After an update of her life in one of the emails including some details of her difficult first pregnancy, she closed with "you should go to this website farts.com it has fart noises on it." Classic.

4. Most budding relationships come to nothing and quickly, too. I can't even count how many boys I read about from girl friends of mine (most of which are now happily married - the girls, I mean). I had my fair share of crushes that came to nothing. Some of which I had forgotten. Quite a few of these boys couldn't even be counted as a notch in a timeline of our lives. This is great perspective for me.

5. Also, I'm boy crazy. Or at least I was boy crazy. Not a revelation, I know. I just thought it was funny how often my friends asked about boys in emails to me. Pretty much every message asked if there were any "boys" or "hotties" in my life at the respective time or about boys I had mentioned in previous emails. It's just funny how everyone expected it of me.

6. People have a way of coming back into your life. There are two people that I'm thinking of specifically that I haven't seen in a really long time.

One of these people I didn't really expect I'd see again or at least I had decided that I didn't need to ever see him again. Reading through the emails that had survived all these years, I realized that we used to have a really good time together. It was a fun friendship. But I had feelings that weren't reciprocated and basically I wasn't a priority in his life, so in my usual bitter way, I "moved on".

As women, we like to move on because then we feel empowered. I admit that I did. I also did my usual thing of trying to only remember his offenses (this, of course, prevents my regression).

His offenses were pretty legit. He "double booked" our hangout appointments (I don't presume to call them dates) more than once. I was done. Which was fine, until I ran into him a couple of weeks ago. I admit that it was a total curve ball. I had prepared myself to run into a lot of old friends that day at church, but he was not one of them. I pretended it was no big deal as I first encountered him, but I definitely needed to process. In the end, I didn't go about the whole thing in a very friendly way (I left without really saying goodbye) and there isn't anything I can do about it now. In my "moving on" I deleted his number and even his email address. I guess I just wish I could have been a little better behaved. He didn't deserve what he got - a somewhat cold greeting. The truth is that there never could have been a relationship there and I knew it. It was my pride taking the lead and I shouldn't have let it.

The second person is a good friend that I actually haven't seen yet, but if things go as planned, I will be seeing very soon. This old friend never injured me. In fact, I injured him. Tonight, as I reread his messages, I found that he never once acted cold or offended. Always kind, always friendly. Always showing immense respect. On top of that, he's been developing over all these years. Becoming. I can't wait to see how far he's come and get a glimpse of how far he'll go. He truly has been an important example in my life though he's often said the same to me. I'm truly lucky to be crossing paths with him again.

Aaaaaaand . . . there I go talking about boys again.

What I want (and don't want) for Christmas

Greetings blog world! I apologize that I have been absent, but I was busy with drawings and I don't feel one bit sorry about it. Work = money (usually) and I never say no to money (except of course if we're talking about an Indecent Proposal situation - I have more scruples than that.) Aaaaanywho, now I'm on Christmas vacation and I feel perfectly justified blogging as there are no fast approaching deadlines. So here's a little something that I've been dying to share with all of you.

At least a month ago, I came across a piece of paper on my niece's desk as I was walking by. It looked like this:

As you can see, my niece's interests include the top of the line Mac-ware (mostly she likes playing Angry Birds), music, blogging (apparently she wants to tell the world about her exciting 8-year-old life), reading, fashion, and . . . time travel . . . :) I love my niece because she has such a different brain than I did when I was her age (actually, her brain might function at a higher level than mine does presently). Also, I love that she seemed to be just getting started on that list.

What's funny is that we seem to have similar interests, though many of these needs/wants of mine are already fulfilled. I do LOVE Apple products, but I don't have an iPhone and I've pretty much decided that I can live without one (except I love the idea that I could sync my calendar from my computer into my phone so that I wouldn't have to enter everything twice. That would be so awesome!). I already have a radio and an iPod (it may be a first generation nano, but it still works and I love it). I also, as you can clearly see, already have my own blog and even a computer with which to write it. I have plenty of shelf space on which to store books, and I even have a lot of accessories (thanks to a few fetishes and the fact that I lost two grandmothers this summer from whom I inherited jewelry, purses, belts and more).

What I don't have is a time machine. This is ok with me because I have no desire to time travel. Don't get me wrong, I love travel. In fact, I am writing this entry from my parent's home in Connecticut which means that I just traveled. On top of that, I arrived on Thursday morning and left for Boston on Friday. During my visit to the East Coast, I will also be going to New York and DC. So despite having to face the TSA's limited options of dirty pictures or inappropriate groping (I got the dirty pictures) the other day, I'll be doing it three more times in the very near future. All for the sake of seeing interesting places and new things and hopefully meeting a few new people along the way all the while enriching my understanding of the world. Also, it's just fun to get out of the house.

Time travel, on the other hand, is a completely different animal. I mean, think of what you might be getting yourself into. Have you seen Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure? Sure, they got an A on their History report, but they probably messed up history forever. Do you really think Napoleon, Mozart, Joan of Arc, Abe Lincoln, etc., would ever be the same after experiencing the wonder of a mall? And what about Back to the Future? His mom tried to put the moves on him and he almost got himself erased. Furthermore, it seems to me from what I've seen in the movies, that in most instances, time machines aren't very good at "dropping you off" in very convenient or safe places. You always seem to be getting plopped into the middle of a bloody battle or something dangerous like that. Of course you could try to go sans machine, but I heard that in "The Time Traveller's Wife" his clothes would fall off or dematerialize leaving him as bare as the day he was born, which in my opinion is worse than either of the TSA options.

The truth is that I have always found flaws in those time travel movies. Like if Doc was shot in 1885, then wouldn't that mean that he wouldn't have done any of the other stuff in 1955 or 1985? I mean even though he came from 1985, he still DIED in 1885, therefore changing anything that happened after that. Or if the Terminator and the guy (Kyle) that travels back to save Sarah Connor both end up getting terminated in the past, wouldn't that mean that their selves that were in the future would not be in the future anymore? AKA, Kyle wouldn't be able to get the picture from Sarah's son, John, and consequently travel back to save her, because he was already dead. And the Terminator couldn't come back in the sequel to protect Sarah Connor from the even more terrifying mercury-like, morph-into-whatever-he-kills terminator. And even though they try to explain how it all happened in that one Harry Potter movie where Hermione has the fancy necklace thing that helps her skip through time, I still didn't follow the whole thing.

What I'm trying to say here is that it's risky business, because the movies are obviously not telling the story correctly so that means we really don't know WHAT could happen. And even if we did think we had figured it out, we would probably screw up somewhere. I mean if I were Hermione (which I was a few times for Halloween), I would probably show up at the wrong place or forget that the other me was coming and blow the whole operation. What you already did is hard to keep track of, you know? I mean just the other day I spent a full 5 minutes trying to figure out whether or not I had eaten lunch and that was on the same day!

Nope. No time travel for me. Instead I would like . . . hmmmmm (this is real-time thinking, because even though Christmas is this week, I haven't actually thought of something I want) . . . I would like . . . to actually experience mistletoe? (I've never dated anyone in December.) Naah. I have a feeling that a wish like that would result in a creepy old dude taking advantage of the festive flora. Peace on Earth? That's not likely to happen by Saturday. A trip to Europe? I WISH! But I'm pretty sure that's not in Santa's budget.

I guess for now I'll settle for Christmas at home.

Oh wait, I already got that. :)

P.S. - After reading this post, you may be interested in the sweded version of Back to the Future. And if you don't know what a "sweded" version is, then please proceed to your nearest Blockbuster/Hollywood Video/Redbox or go on Netflix and get Be Kind Rewind. You can thank me later.

Pet Portrait Giveaway!

Hey all, I'm doing a giveaway on a friend's blog. Read through the post (it's rather amusing, I especially like the part about Sam), then click the link at the end. As it says in the post, if you don't have a pet or a friend that has a pet, don't fret. I'll be doing a person portrait giveaway in the spring. Here's the link: http://www.natthefatrat.com/2010/11/dont-skim-theres-giveaway-at-end.html Enjoy!

Hey Jimmy you're so fine . . .

Ok, so I didn't do a Thanksgiving post and I probably should have, but I've been meaning to post this post, and I decided to just do it. Coincidentally, I am thankful for Jimmy Fallon. This is a daydream I had the other day.

But first here's a little something to get you in the mood.

My imaginary appearance on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon:

Jimmy (still laughing from his last thank you note to hipsters. Oh, he's so cute when he can't stop laughing at his own jokes.): Our next guest is the ever-talented artist, Rachel Stratford!

The Roots play something awesomely appropriate like Long Cool Woman in a Black dress - I WISH! - as I enter even though I'm wearing something adorable that I bought from Mod Cloth. The crowd is cheering because some sign is telling them to and because I've planted a few good friends in the crowd to really make me look good. I wave and blow a kiss then shrug my shoulders at Jimmy like I don't understand what's happening. Then I sit down making sure that the cameras can't see up my skirt (cause that would be embarrassing).

Jimmy: Welcome to the show.

Me: Thank you. I'm really excited to be here. I wasn't sure I would make it.

Jimmy: What do you mean? Traffic? Or you were thinking about ditching me?

Me: No, of course not. I would never miss an opportunity to hear The Roots in person. (Everyone cheers. I give The Roots a wink. Jimmy laughs. I laugh. I'm totally excited because I made Jimmy laugh . . .) No really, though. I wouldn't miss this for the world. I just didn't think it would work.

Jimmy: Work? Oh you mean . . . the letter. (He raises an eyebrow and looks at the camera. He continues staring at the camera then says it again for dramatic effect). The letter.

Me: Exactly. The letter.

Jimmy: I happen to have . . . the letter (looks at the camera with raised eyebrow again) right here. (He pulls out the letter) Should I read it or would you like to?

Me: I'd really like to hear your rendition of it. (I smile and bat my eyelashes)

Jimmy starts the letter which goes like this (please try reading it through twice first imagine me reading it then imagine Jimmy reading my words and making fun of me. Remember, me first!) . . .

Dear Jimmy,

Hi. :) Can I please be on your show? I don't have an agent or anything, but I really think it would be in your best interest to have me on. I'm pretty funny and I've already thought of what to say. I promise to wear my cutest outfit and say nice things about you on the air. In return, you could tell people about my art (check me out on facebook) so that they will buy it because I'm pretty sure they'll do whatever you tell them to (I know I do.) Other things we could talk about in the interview include the fact that I have a crush on you and that both my dad and one of my best friends are from upstate NY like you. Also, we could just have funny banter. I promise not to hit on you because I know you are married and I do have morals. As an incentive to put me on your show, I promise to do a portrait of you that you can show everyone on the show. We could even put the portrait on a T-shirt. Then I'll probably sell a hundred or so copies to pay for food or maybe I'll go to grad school. I generally don't do celebrity portraits because then I wouldn't be any better than the guy selling portraits at the mall. It might also make me look like some obsessive fan (who me?) but if I come on the show, then it's like a business deal and we would meet which would make us at least acquaintances so then it wouldn't be weird.

Ok, I think that's about it. Think about it and then call me to invite me on the show.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I will be in the greater metropolitan area from Dec 16 - Jan 4, so if you could squeeze me in sometime in there, that would be great. I don't exactly have a bunch of extra cash laying around to spend on flights to NY.

Can't wait to meet you,

Rachel Stratford

Jimmy(He's looking at me with a smile like as to say "you're crazy for doing this, but hey, it seems to have gotten you on the show"): So lets go through our list of topics.

Me (I'm still laughing a little cause he's so funny and cute!): I believe the first one was the fact that I have a crush on you.

Jimmy looks at the audience with a giddy smile, but a little creeped out. The audience is laughing so I have to wait for them to calm down a little before I can start speaking again.

Me: So I have to tell you how that developed. (He looks nervous.) Well, really it started when I saw Fever Pitch. I admit that I started dating Red Sox fans over Yankee fans which pleased some of my siblings. But I didn't see much of you for a long time until I moved into the Mountain Standard Time zone. You see, the problem with Mountain Standard Time . . . and Central for that matter . . . is that all the TV programming is an hour earlier. And I'm from the East Coast, so I would turn on the TV and all the primetime shows would be over so I started watching late night talk shows . . . and let's be honest, Letterman and Leno are very funny guys . . . but I'm not about to have a crush on either of them. (At this point the crowd and Jimmy burst into laughter because I am hilarious) I mean, no offense to either of those comedians, cause they're both extremely talented. . . but I'm just sayin' . . . (comedic pause) Just sayin'. (I'm doing lots of funny expressions, too - just imagine them.) But I'm not hitting on you. (He's blushing at this point) Because I promised not to hit on you.

Jimmy: Of course not, (laughing) you would never hit on me. I could tell from your . . . letter. (laughs again) So, you're dad and your best friend are from upstate New York. What part? Because I don't know if you knew this, but I'm from upstate New York. Oh, wait, that's right. It was in your . . . letter.

Me (laughing): Gotta love Wikipedia! (I look at the audience) My dad is from the Schenectady area and my friend is from Queensbury up by Lake George. Have you ever been up there?

Jimmy: Yeah I've been to Lake George (I have no idea if ever really has, but this is an imaginary interview so I can make up things about his life if I want) Nice area.

Me: I love the Adirondacks. I actually prefer even farther north, up in the high peaks region. There are fewer motor boats and more canoes. My grandma lived up in Saranac Lake near Lake Placid for a number of years.

Jimmy: Oh yeah, what made her leave?

Me: Cancer. She died this year.

Jimmy: Oh. (silence for a second) I'm so sorry.

Me: It's ok, she was a great woman who lived a full life.

Jimmy: Well now that I've completely killed that conversation, this would be a good time to talk about your art. (pulls out the watercolor I did of him) Here is a lovely rendition of . . . me.

Me: Yup. It was part of the deal . . .

Jimmy: This is really good. How long have you been drawing, I mean painting? How long have you been doing art?

Me: I started drawing as soon as I could hold a pencil. I didn't really do watercolors until I was in high school.

Jimmy: I don't know that much about art. Do a lot of artists use watercolor? I mean can you make any money doing watercolors? Do they sell for as much as oil paintings?

Me: They don't usually sell for as much as oil paintings, but I do them because I just prefer the process and because I haven't figured out how to paint successfully with oils. Lame, I know.

Jimmy: This doesn't look lame to me. (He holds it up next to his face for a comparison mimicking the face in the painting)

Me: I'm glad you like it, cause I brought you a T-shirt as promised in the letter. (I turn to the audience) I'll be selling more outside the door on your way out. $25 a shirt - as a momento of this lovely evening. (turning to Jimmy) Unless you want to be cool like Oprah and just buy all of them off of me and GIVE the audience free ones . . . (the audience cheers for real this time). I also have portraits for each of The Roots. (which I flash, but can't give out right then because they're too far away)

Jimmy: Awesome. Cool, well it was very nice to have you on the show. Good luck with your art. (Turning to the camera, he lifts up the portrait) Look for Rachel's facebook page or go to her website www.rachelstratford.com and order a custom portrait. When we come back, we'll have the amazing Matt Damon! (Yeah, I'm that lucky)

And that is my imaginary appearance on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon.

Oh yeah, did I mention that Jimmy was the inspiration for my Halloween costume this year?

Halloweek

So, I figure if my goal is to write at least once a week I can meet expectations. So that is my goal. So far, so good. Ok on to other things . . .

Those of you who know me know that I love Halloween. Mostly because when I even think about dressing up, I get all little-girly-excited inside. The truth is I dress up even when it's not Halloween. A fair number of the dresses in my closet hearken back to yesteryear (before even I was alive) and I revel in the Sundays when I can show up for church looking like I stepped straight out of the 1940's or the 1960's. Mmmm . . . so fun! Anyway, but Halloween is my chance to go all out and wear something I couldn't get away with at church.

The other thing I like about Halloween is that you get to decorate your house all crazy-like or whatever (so eloquent, I know), especially if you're having a party. This year I decided to throw a party at my apartment despite the fact that my relatively recent relocation to the area might make it difficult to get enough people at the party so as to make it feel like more than just a visiting teaching appointment. So in preparation for this party, I bought a few things, planned the refreshments, and made a bunch of things by hand (but mostly "by X-acto knife) to make my apartment seem all spooky and such. Admittedly, I may have spent a disproportionate amount of time on this party than I did the rest of my life for at least the week before the party (which was on Friday). I blame this, of course, on Martha Stewart. Well at least I blame it on her website. It gets you all excited about the holiday much sooner than it should. Those decorating thoughts start small; they're so innocent and sweet. "That will just look adorable", you think to yourself. But then the next thing you know the grandiose plans for the amazing party you're planning consume, as Jack Black said, "your head and your MIND and your brain." But no big deal, right? Because your party will be amazing and everyone will talk about how talented and wonderful you are and it will all be worth it. All the paper cuts and time spent cutting cardboard with an X-acto knife (because you don't have a heavy duty box cutter) so that you can turn your coffee table into a coffin table to give the effect of a funeral parlor in your living room will all be worth it.

"So how was your Halloween this year, Rachel?", you ask.

The answer: kind of lame.

It wasn't terrible. I did have some fun, but the part of me that likes the spotlight, attention, etc. (I'm a yellow on the color code test) - so essentially my vanity and pride - was a little bruised. "How was your vanity and pride bruised Rachel?" (that's you asking again). Well, I'll tell you.

This year, as I usually do, I wore a different costume to each of the Halloween events I attended. That equalled 3 this year. The first event was a ward FHE costume party. There was to be a costume contest, so I decided to wear my gown from last year and the long redhead wig that I got for the costume I was going to wear to my party on Friday. Well, I thought I actually had a chance to win because when I arrived there were "oohs" and "ahhs" probably at the sheer size of the dress (pictured here as it was worn last year - sorry I don't have one from this year with the wig). I also thought I had a chance to win because most were wearing the typical throw together costumes of hippie, stereotypical Native American princess, and some sort of bug made evident by a headband with pipe cleaners and craft pom poms. Some weren't even dressed up. And maybe it was because no one there knew that my mom and I sewed that gown out of a TABLE CLOTH, but the Native American princess and the guy dressed up as an Indian (you know, from India) got the prizes for most creative. And a girl who showed up as headless got the overall best costume. I'll give her that, because it was pretty impressive. But overall, I just kind of felt like this was a sign that I'm not 'in' the ward yet. I'm there and some people know me, but not many people really know me enough to appreciate me and I will go further with that train of thought with my next piece of evidence.

Exhibit B (we'll say the last incident was Exhibit A): more than once that night I was told that I should grow my hair out long. I usually replied that even if I did, my hair wouldn't look like the wig because it's crazy curly. One guy came back with a classy, "I have one word for you: flatiron". Why thank you sir, I like you just the way you are, too. Granted, this same guy, a week or so before, when I answered his "why aren't you married?" with a sarcastic "I don't know, maybe it's because I'm not smokin' hot." said to me, "No that's not why. I have friends who have married ugly girls." Like I said, CLASSY. Anyway, back to my point. I have heard more comments since then about how I really should grow my hair out. Another guy told me that he heard someone say that my "hotness factor really went up" with long hair. What is it with guys and long hair? I've been made fun of my crazy hair for most of my life and I finally felt like I was moving to a look that was even more 'me' than I ever knew I could be when I chopped off my hair and went for something different. I truly like my hair short. So should I grow it out so that other people like it? I protest that the answer is NO! I should be myself and people should like me for who I am. There is a part of me that rather despises the "typical". Around here most of the girls do the long hair with the loose barrel curls. And I'm just so over that.*

The last reason my Halloween was kind of lame (and Exhibit C of why I don't really feel like I've been accepted by the ward as a whole) is that even though there were more than three people at my party, there weren't that many more. I announced that party a number of times and personally invited a number of individuals, but even people from the ward that I thought would come, just didn't. Some very important people (yes, VIP's so to speak), people who are very important to me, did show up and that was the reason the party didn't really stink for me. But I was just kind of surprised how few people from my huge ward did show up. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, because we all know that the bigger the ward, the less connected people feel. These are the moments that I miss my little branch back in New Haven. As crazy as it gets, at least people know and care about you there. I do have some friends in this ward, but not many. It's kind of hard to break into the group because they all went to high school together . . . 2-3 years ago. "Why do you even want to break into a group that is so much younger than you, Rachel?" (there you go asking again). My answer: I don't know. Sometimes I don't. But most of the time I do. I'm considering moving to an older ward ward once I'm done teaching my Sunday School class, but until then, I need some friends and this is the group that I have already put the effort into getting to know, etc. So I continue to push my way into it. And it's my ward, so I should at least try to be a real part of it, right?

"So will this story have a happy ending, Rachel?" You ask too many questions. Actually . . . sticking with this ward and teaching that class may have paid off. After a VERY busy week, even a very busy Sunday (the actual day of Halloween) morning, I scrambled to put together my lesson entitled "Children are an Heritage of the Lord." (Yes, I'm teaching about parenting, now. A little crazy, I know.) Anyway, I taught my lesson and afterwards a complete stranger (I do know his cousin, who is in the ward, so I assume he's not a murderer or anything) came and talked to me for a little bit. Did I mention that this is a 31-year-old male stranger? Did I mention that he is already graduated from college and has a real job? Anyway, after talking to me a bit, he asked for my phone number to which I responded, "Why?" (I was running on very little sleep, people. Give me a break.) Luckily he didn't run away. In fact, he called that night to see if I wanted to get together the next morning because he was leaving to go home (which is in another state) in the the afternoon.

So . . . we went out yesterday and I had a good time. In the phone call, he mentioned that I seemed like I wasn't the typical BYU co-ed. Thank you! I am not typical and someone appreciates that. He also didn't seem to mind that my hair wasn't long with loose barrel curls.

Basically, he's a man. Not a boy. How refreshing!

I guess I did have a good Halloween this year.

Also now I need to know if I should call him back the next day (today!) or if that is a myth propagated by the movies. Hurry, people! I'm kind of running out of time!

And I'm including my costume from Saturday night when I dressed up as the Bieber. Sorry I don't have a pic of the beloved long redhead wig. Maybe I'll steal one from someone later.

*I should note that those of you that are my facebook friends (that's all of you at this point, I think), may have noticed that my profile pic was recently changed back to one with my long straight hair. The truth is that I'm just trying to mess with that guy who said that my hotness factor went up. I'm not growing this hair out for any of them.

My first retraction (kind of). Wow, that was fast.

Ok, so I feel I should clarify something after my last (actually my first) post. Married people are cool and being married is the bomb (I have inside sources). These are truly feelings that I espouse. After posting I realized that my opening statements may have come off sounding like I look down on married women and especially stay at home moms. Nothing could be farther from the truth. I am, in fact, extremely jealous of them. Their life is exactly what I want and what I expected to be doing by now. The problem is that I often have a hard time relating because I feel like I have been single my whole life . . . oh wait! I HAVE BEEN SINGLE MY WHOLE LIFE! Thirty years and 223 days to be exact. Which . . . is . . . kind of a long time (especially when you start liking boys and dreaming of marriage at an early age). Anyway, I don't mean to sound desperate, cause I'm not. But I really wish I were in their shoes. Because even though changing diapers isn't always fun and trying to get kids to pay attention to what your saying sometimes feels IMPOSSIBLE, at least you know why you're doing what you're doing. You have these amazing gifts from God to bring up right and teach them to be caring human beings and contributing members of society. Your purpose is so clear. I have been preparing my whole life to do that. And instead of fulfilling the purpose of my creation I'm floundering trying to figure out what to do in the meantime. I know I should probably be starting a non-profit or something, but all I really want to do is comfort my baby when she cries or teach my little boy how to read. And watch in amazement as their personalities develop and one day I'll wake up and they'll be adults. Also, I would really like an awesome man who loves me and with whom I can make decisions and share my hopes and dreams.

The good news is that I am so lucky to be living with my brother's family so that I get to be the live-in-but-with-her-own-apartment-in-the-basement Aunt Rachel (and don't even try to compare my life to Family Matters, because I always hated that show. And it wasn't even necessarily Steve Urkel that was the worst - I mean when he turned into Stefan Urquelle, he was pretty darn smooth. It was the dad and even Laura. They were always so rude, but I digress . . .) I get to enjoy a little slice of heaven daily and I love it. I don't even mind changing diapers as strange as that sounds. It's just nice to be part of the important work of nurturing. So when you're having a hard day with your babies (no matter how old) just think of your friend, Rachel, who is working daily to keep her faith and hope alive that she will get to be just like you someday.

Homeschooling, Valentine's Day, and Mr. Lippman . . . oh yeah, and posterity.

I never thought I'd have a blog. Blogs are for married people. Moms with kids who want to share recipes and homeschool ideas. Women who feel disconnected from society because they are so busy wiping noses and making dinner.

Of course there are other kinds of blogs. There are the blogs that photographers use to post their work. The ever so famous blog that Julie did in homage to Julia. Last year or so, a girl in NYC did a blog where she was looking for 30 first dates in 30 days culminating in a second date on Valentine's Day (there was a subsequent appearance on an important morning show). But all of those blogs have a purpose, some kind of gimmick/goal. I don't have a gimmick/goal.

On top of all that, I am not a good writer. Sure, I can write an ok persuasive essay or conclusive paper, but I am a pretty bad story teller. If you don't believe me, ask my 10th grade English teacher, Mr. Lippman (who would presently die if he saw how wordy this is - he always used to say to cut the "dead wood"). He may not remember the occasion where he told me I was failing (at which point, I broke out into tears), but I recall it with perfect clarity. I should note that, in the end, I scraped by with a C (but that may have had something to do with the tears). Anyway, the point is that I always hated writing. I used to avoid it at all costs, reverting to cleaning my room, etc. (there was no Facebook when I was in high school - let's be honest, I was barely even aware of the internet at that point). The point is, I stink at writing.

So why am I starting a blog, you ask??? I don't have any kids of which to share adorable photos with all my friends and family. I'm not on a mission to circumnavigate the globe on a dingy or lose 100 lbs (10 would be just fine, actually). And I am not venting amazing creative writing ability to bless a loyal readership.

Yes, I wondered myself why this silly idea of writing a blog came into my head. And this is my answer:

1. My journal writing is sporadic at best and I really should be recording my feelings/experiences for my posterity (we're exhibiting faith here, ok) no matter how boring/bitter they might be. And perhaps having some kind of accountability will motivate me to write often.
2. I am hoping that by exercising my writing muscles, perhaps, they will increase in strength. Just knowing others will be reading my journal should get me to proofread and edit before I publish. (I know what you're thinking, "This girl uses 'I' to start too many of her sentences." This, in fact, is true. But I'm just getting started so give me a break! I'll be bench pressing my weight in words before you know it.)
3. After a couple weeks of following a friend's blog, I found myself drafting blog entries in my head, which must be some kind of sign, right? This one came to me while sitting and waiting for my car at the Toyota dealer yesterday - a subject that will be discussed later (*uuggh*).

Lastly, but probably most importantly, it turns out that I actually have a lot in common with those moms of 3 or 4, besides our year of birth. Often, I have a lot to say and no one to whom I can say it. Don't get me wrong, I have a lot of friends. Some of these friends might even be reading this (Hi friends!). But they all live far away or have busy lives. Aaaand . . . thanks to my new chosen profession, I don't see a lot of people in a day. This is the point where my dad would tell me to get a real job where I would see people, and, most importantly, get a regular paycheck. Maybe someday, Dad. In the meantime, I decided that starting a blog would be a less expensive way of reaching out to people than my previous endeavors*.

Ok, so that is about it. I warned you that I was a bad writer. Which probably means that you won't come back :( Oh well. There's always posterity, right?

Ehh . . . unless my writing skills chase away the spirit of Elijah at some future day.

*Did I mention that I might be a shopaholic? Self-diagnosed. Think about it, it's an excuse to get out of the house and see people (unless I'm shopping on the internet, which has also been known to happen). But after reviewing my shrinking bank account I decided to put the kibosh on the spending ("stop the bleeding" if you don't mind gruesome medical analogies). As a warning, there may be side effects - i.e. coveting of new fashions that I can't have - on here.