Halloween Pics... finally... a week later (and a pretty entertaining video WORTH waiting for)

I truly have lost control of my personal life. Yes, I am posting my Halloween pictures nearly a week later. What of it? At least I’m posting them. I really think this is representative of my life – I feel like I’m a full 7 days behind and almost in no way will be able to catch up. Rather a disheartening scenario, no? Sigh. Alas, I need to reevaluate my priorities – maybe when schools over – in 2 years.

For Halloween I was a Roller Derby Girl. Yes, I was inspired by the movie Whip-it as well as the appeal of wearing a fluffy pink petticoat in public. What’s more, I borrowed “tattoo sleeves” from my friend Terilyn, and felt pretty bad-ass in them. They look incredibly authentic and I almost felt a certain empowerment sporting them on my arms. I think that’s why Halloween is one of my favorite holidays – I have the opportunity to be someone completely different for a night; to play a character in a play that's different from the one you've been assigned (or self-selected); but lets leave the philosophizing for another time... in 2 years maybe.

Terilyn and I at Thriller on Friday night. What what! Some pretty powerful ladies!

Saturday night I went to the Utah vs. Wyoming game (and nearly had a heart attack the whole time - that team is going to be the DEATH of me - why must we wait until the last half of the 4th quarter to show up and play some real football? I ASK YOU!); and of course, the Muss had to make a showing by dressing up "black hole" style. My friend Eyring and I looked pretty hard core... and by hard core I might mention how much the vampy teeth add to my overall bad-assidness already assumed by my wicked arm-tats. The final chapter (and by far the most entertaining) of my Halloween-ing this year happened in the workplace. We had a week long United Way campaign at my place of employment the week of Halloween and part of the campaign entailed a "donation race" to see which executive could illicit the most funds in his "jar" thus making him eligible to prance around the office in a blow up ballerina costume.

And my supervisor won...

And he LOVED it.

Perhaps I'm not the only one that's slightly lost control of my personal life.

Last night, I dreamt of London again.

Yes, I am trying to capture the dark ethereal magic of Daphne du Maurier's opening lines from her novel Rebecca, which begins "I dreamt of Manderley again" (chiiiiiills). I'm not sure how well I captured that - but I thought it fitting as I did, in fact, dream of London again.

I dream of London a lot. Is that strange? Shrug. I guess most dreams tend to be strange and mine are generally extremely abstract, so I guess asking someone to label a dream subject as strange is asking someone to label pretzels as salty. It's what they are - naturally. But I do dream of London and this morning, I fought very decisively not to leave Oxford street and continue my search for a reasonably priced flat (yes... I realize the irony... "reasonably priced flat in London"... dream on sista... dream on) when the fuzzy lines between dreaming and waking are interspersed with sounds from the "real world" translating over to the "dream world." No! Please let me stay here.

I'm not in London anymore - fantastically or in reality (duh). I have been though so it's not completely ridiculous that I dream of the city. I spent a mere 6 weeks in London on a study abroad with the University of Utah after which I subsequently wrote a prose heavy "research analysis" of it's "foggy lanterns piercing the rippled surface of the darkening Thames as I scurried to my hotel near the Baker's street tube stop. Dark figures glided like ghosts along pavements while a stray black cat confidently strutted across my path; the misty air glistening off its mangey fur" - oh my. Clearly someone (it's me) has transported us all back to Sir Arther Conan Doyle's Holmesian London or has been taking Virginia Wolfe far too seriously (and you know what happens when you take Virginia Wolfe a little too seriously... the misty clouds thus roll forth and you put rocks in your pockets).

Never the less - whatever Freud might say of my reoccurring London dreams having something to do with my subconscious longing to escape into a world so very different from my own (true) or my strange inherent desire to project my inner Mary Poppins (also true); I loved London and I want to go (back) to London and I believe that once I get to London again, I will be staying in London indefinitely. Perhaps London is sending these subliminal messages through my dreams, beckoning me to join it again and experience all that London is. And who am I to say no to London? Especially when it goes through the trouble of consistently invading my dreams. Dickens would never say no to London! And that's reason enough for me.

It's akin to asking someone if they're preganant, and they're not

I attended some friend's Halloween party this week. It was Tuesday night, after class, so granted I was pretty beat after a full day of work and sitting in a 3 hour class all night. However, I wanted to support my friends gathering as it was a Halloween/house-warming party mix. Party Mix! Like Chex. Ahem... anyway... there promised to be meatballs as well and if anything gets me going after a long day of mind-numbing metiocrity, it's meatballs. You can quote me on that.

So I picked up my friend M to head up to the party, and she romped to my car and jumped in. I immediately said "Oh man! You dressed up! What are you?" To which she replied "Uh... I'm not dressed up. I wore this to work."

Ahem.

Ah. Ohhhh, well it's dark outside and I'm kinda losing it because of my super long day and Ididn'treallyseewhatyouwerewearing.... Oops! Mistaking someone's outfit for a Halloween costume is your classic "foot-in-the-mouth" scenario; or the setting for a lame joke "Take off that mask!" "Oh I'm not wearing a mask." Ba dum chi!

Luckily my friend is good natured with a easy going sense of humor and wasn't offended in the slightest. Phew... lucky for me. Note to self - think before talking (or) scrutinze beyond a shadow of a doubt someone's outfit before asking what they're dressed up as (or) don't talk at all. All excellent preventative measures one can take to insure no awkward situations that are impossible to smoothly dig oneself out of. It's very much like asking "Oh! So when are you due?" "Um... I'm not pregnant" ... ... cricket chirp. What do you SAY to that? "Oh sorry - I didn't realize you were just fat?" Mm. Hm. You see what I mean.

You know you've lost control of your personal life when your Soy milks gone bad

If any of you are Soy milk drinkers, or were Soy milk drinkers, or are considering becoming a Soy milk drinker, or even, have friends who are Soy milk drinkers, you may know that Soy milk has a very liberal expiration date. When compared with regular milk derived from a cows udder (shudder); it's clear who the winner of "how long you can keep this in your fridge before it goes bad" contest is. Soy milk. Every. Time.

(On a note - do you know we are the only species that continues to drink milk AFTER nursing? Additionally - we're the only species that elects to drink the milk of another mammal who drags their udders through poop, dirt, grass, poop, and is suckled on by snotty little baby cows. There's some food for thought).

At any rate...

It takes a long time for Soy milk to "go bad." Many will contend that the expiration date is only applicable on an unopened carton of Soy milk. Well, that's semi-true. The carton does explain it that way - but really - I've pushed the limits of Soy milk and not noticed much of a "funk" 1,2, and sometimes 3 weeks after having opened it.

This time however...

My Soy milk contained a bit of a "funk." I kept right on eating my cereal of course; the entire time exclaiming inside my head "this tastes funny! This is probably bad!" chomp chomp on my Cheerios, "Yep, definitely something funky about this... this is no good." chomp chomp chomp. And I realized, if my Soy milk had gone noticeably bad, it's clear I have not been drinking much of it as of late. Which means, I've been eating out more than I usually do, or not eating at all really, and this means I'm either lacking time, or I've lost complete control of my personal life and my self-respect is at an all time failing low. Come to find - it's probably a little of both.

When our lives begin to fast forward, bogged down with this, that, and the other, we tend to let ourselves "slip" a little in the general care and fostering of our own health. Sleepless nights that linger all week, not having the energy to make home-cooked (or even slabbing PB&J together between two pieces of bread) meals, sniffing our clothes because we can't remember when we did laundry last and sure as all Mountain Fresh don't have the time now... things of this nature. I hadn't realized I'd let a few small things (cleaning my room... going for a run... grocery shopping...) slip, and if it weren't for the Soy milk funk, I may still have kept slipping into slovenly, greasy, obese, oblivion. You think I exaggerate? I think NOT! We tend to focus our time and our energies on so many outside factors, we forget about spending sometime on ourselves. I for one feel better when I'm healthily fed, relatively clean, and surrounded by a little more order and a little less chaos. In fact, the simple act of making my bed every morning can foster feelings of self-accomplishment; that I actually have a handle on your surroundings (I live in a very simple world).

Well, I for one will never be letting my Soy milk go bad again. Thank goodness for that wake-up call! While I carve out time for school, work, school, and also school, I think I'll make a point to carve out a little "self-care" in there too; some valuable grocery shopping, a bathroom scrubbing, an hour in the gym, and maybe even begin a novel. Ha. Okay... I won't get TOO carried away.

Rainy Days and Mondays

I’m wasn’t ready for Monday this morning. I guess no one is really ready for the weekend to end – but since it’s inevitable – we plan accordingly and prep ourselves for a new work/school week come Monday morning.

Well last night I was feeling sick about having to start a Monday so soon. My weekend wasn’t anything particularly special that I wanted to extend it: I went to Park City on Friday night, did an amazing amount of school-reading on Saturday then saw Where the Wild Things Are (awesome), and then went about my regular Sunday activities of churching and making food I could eat the entire upcoming week (side note: last week I attempted to make Mac and Cheese from a Martha Stuart recipe and failed miserably and thus didn’t have the luxury of having at least one meal of my day already prepared that week. THIS week however, I went with a timeless classic I’ve made over and over: White Bean Chili. Success!!!).

I guess the previous week had been really exhausting. I didn’t have school, but work was busy and I was still doing homework and my mind was just tired. My Spirit was tired! My emotions were tuckered out! I needed a longer weekend this time around. OH! And what adds insult to injury is I THOUGHT I was really on top of my homework and then realized I had forgotten an assignment due by midnight on MONDAY and loudly cursed myself for not realizing that just because we have Fall break it doesn't mean we have Fall break. I mean clearly that makes sense. Silly me.

As Sunday night was drawing to a close, I began to really dread Monday. Though it promised to be a regular Monday full of work and school and exercising and general things you do to start out yet another week, I just felt ill about having to do it all. At least having to do it all so soon. As I was lying in bed Sunday night, all I wanted to do was find a safe cozy little bubble, separating me from all the world, and read a delicious novel while floating through the air above regular living. I wanted to push “pause” – make everything freeze – work, school, life in general, and just have a little breather for awhile. A proverbial floating limbo between Sunday night and Monday morning that just extends the weekend a little bit longer…

Well, turns out my pause button doesn’t work on Sunday nights because Monday is a much stronger power to cope with. Monday has come; and I’m still not entirely ready for it, but ready or not, it always comes. What’s truly ironic is it also rained all night. I don’t mind thunder and lightning, though conveniently ominous when it happens while a Monday approaches like an evil presence come to suck the happiness from the world. I almost expected to hear an evil cackle rip through the sky as my alarm went off and Monday officially began. You know what they say about rainy days and Mondays. Always.

People who say they HAAAAAATE Utah

How? Ha! Naw... I get why people don't like certain places because it's "just not them" or isn't near a Nordstrom's or doesn't have a variety of dining options or it's cold all the time or it's hot all the time; but really, to HATE living somewhere? That's pretty serious. And to HATE living in Utah? In this Utahns opinion is crazy talk!

I've been to a handful of places inside the country and out. I can say that I do not want to live in Provo, Utah... er again... because it's just not the place for me. Do I hate it? NO! In fact my year there was one of the best years of my life. It's also one of the most beautiful places I've lived what with the mountains so close and it's "small cityness." But when it's all said in done, I'd rather not live there if I can avoid it. Just not the place for me; and that's okay!

On the other hand, I could live in San Francisco forever. I love it there. What a unique and amazing city! Yes, I could do San Francisco quite happily for a very long time... as could I do London... and I imagine (though I've never been) I'd like such places as Maine, Boston, or the Carolina's very much as well. These places appeal to me on a personal level. They contain within them things I enjoy having around me in my living space. And since we're on the subject, I could also live in Salt Lake City for a very long time... and have for a very long time... because it's a beautiful fantastic clean city I feel is home.

That said (placing can opener over worm can)...

Some might say, oh of COURSE she loves Salt Lake City, she's a Mormon. Ha. Huh. Well, it definitely makes it more appealing to me as a Mormon because for heavens sake it's the headquarters of the Mormon Church. The Salt Lake temple is literally two blocks from my house, and I'm always reminding myself how very lucky I am as a Mormon to live in Salt Lake City, Utah. Yet, I might venture to say, though that's a bonus, it's not why I love Salt Lake City. I wouldn't move to Nauvoo or Palmyra New York for the soul reason it contains so much of my Churches history. And clearly, if I'm loving to live places like San Francisco or Paris or London, there are many many MANY things that make a city appealing to me than proximity to my faith's religious headquarters. I can't imagine Catholics make mass exodus to live in Vatican City solely because they are Catholic. Though, I would wager that any practicing Catholics living in Vatican City would feel the same as I do being Mormon and living in Salt Lake City; very very blessed.

In contrast, many say they hate living in Utah. Now, clearly I have a bias because I love Utah. And I love it for it's beautiful mountains, it's unique red rock, it's deserts, it's 4 seasons (except this year... seriously... did we have a summer?), the general beauty in the layout of the cities, the cleanliness of the cities (and I've been to some very "dirty" cities and am always reminded of how "clean" particularly Salt Lake City is when I return), and yes for its people. Many "non-Utahns" have commented time and again to myself, friends, family, that Utah has a high concentration of very nice people. I think we are pretty nice people! All of us! So, I always wonder, how can you really absolutely HATE living in Utah? Really, how can you HATE (as in loathe) living most places? I've always been a believer that something is what you make of it. Your attitude is a powerful tool that can color any situation, for better or for worse, if you let it. Cynicism is the best way to go through life always unimpressed and ill-contented. Well, I think people hate living in Utah because they.... dislike the religious concentration of people here. Yeah, I know that's a bold statement, but I think it's true. And my question to those who hate Utah because they recognize that yes, the LDS concentration here does have a huge impact on the culture and thus an impact on a lot of policies, laws, and attitudes here, and they don't like it, then really, why stay? Now, I don't want to be one of those who say "well if you hate it move" because that's somewhat unrealistic for a lot of people. Maybe they would move if they could. But, if you're one of those people, wouldn't your life be much improved if you accepted (not to say you don't have to desire change of course) but at least had an attitude of "well, I do live in a city that is the HEADQUARTERS OF THE CHURCH OF JESUS CHRIST OF LATTER DAY SAINTS!!! and may have to interact with those who belong to that Church and additionally be slightly effected by that religion sometimes."

If you still must hate it, consider this line of reasoning:

Utah was settled by Mormon pioneers. Thus, the state's birth and subsequent growth was extended by those of the LDS faith. The first thing pioneers did when they arrived in what is now Utah, was pave the way and prepare to build a temple. Pioneers were sent all over the state to create a safe-haven and establish colonies, a place where they could worship and practice their beliefs in peace. The state of Utah is steeped in Mormon heritage and tradition. And only when (as the biggest factor)the Union Pacfic and Central Pacific railroads met at Promontory Point in Utah forming the transcontinental railroad did a greater influx of Americans begin to enter Utah who did not do so for reasons of religious worship. And thus, Utah began to be integrated into the United States, bring in businesses and industry, and is what it is today. Not as diverse as many other states with very different histories, but it's growing and diversifying as it has since those first Mormon Pioneers entered the valley. THUS - here is my question - if you are frustrated or bothered by this influence in the state of Utah, then I might suggest you utilize some logic and see that it was settled by Mormons, the headquarters of a quickly growing Church is in Salt Lake City, as well as the gathering place for semi-annual conferences, the historic Salt Lake City Temple and now new family history library, and Brigham Young University, a large private Mormon University that brings in many members from all over the United States, from all over the world.

So really, really? You are angry because Utah has a lot of LDS influence and you HATE living in Utah because there are so many MORMONS??? It's like moving to Vatican City and hating Catholics... or to India and hating Buddhists and Hindus... or parts of the Middle East and being annoyed at the Muslim influence " Why do we have to kneel and pray to the sounding of a bell at certain times!!! (shake fist) I hate living here in this highly concentrated Muslim area!"

Like, really? I for one would very much expect if I were to move to Vatican City that much of my daily routine, even the sights I see everyday, and much of that cities politcal influence, would have a connection to Catholicism in some resepct. And I, though not being part of that belief system, would have to either accept that that influence is steeped in centuries (in this case) of tradition and that statistically, because there could be a very large Catholic membership and thus MANY of it's political figures and choices would belong to that faith and thus, lean towards their innate biases, OR curse them all, say I HATE Vatican City and the Catholic influences there, and be angry about it the entire time I live there. Which sounds better to you?

And, if that's not the reason you HATE Utah then first, I still don't get it ;) ha!, but secondly, I don't see how long I could stay in someplace I truly loathed that much. Nor do I see how someone can CHOOSE to MOVE out here from another place and then hate it with everything they have. And, if it's a choice (opposed to those who don't have the means or ability to change their situation), can't you CHOOSE to live somewhere you like a little more? If you move to Utah, at some level residents will need to accept that the LDS Church does have a strong influence here, just like any other major religions headquarters will likely have a strong influence where they are. Religions throughout history have patterns of gathering together, to worship together, and to be near those who practice how they do. It's human nature to create support mechanisms and be "part of something."Muslims from all over the world travel thousands of miles to Mecca to worship together. It's a beautiful and exciting thing when you can be somewhere, even for a short time (i.e. General Conference weekend as my closest to home example) and learn about your faith together with others who also share those ideas. And if someone HATES that Mormons do that in Utah, you've probably chosen the wrong place to live. Or need a serious attitude adjustment; for your own good.

Finding the other side of 25

Yesterday was my 26th Birthday. And as one tends to do as they begin to pass such desirable age-landmarks as 16, 18, 21, and even 25, and enter the realm of “I’d rather not get much older thanks” of the 29’s, 35’s and GASP 50’s???, one starts to reflect on the past years and of course, the years ahead (like, how close you are truly getting to 30 and still very single… uh… as a random example).

My life is very different on this October 12th than it was last October 12th. Needless to say, I can already feel I’m going to prefer the post-25 years compared with the pre-25 years. The pre-25 years are full of a lot of growing, refining, struggles, and identity searching in a very short period of time. Being a 20-25 something is one big transitory period that includes some major life decisions. We all know that you can screw your life up during High School by the choices you make; I believe you can equally screw (or solidify) your life in the early 20’s as well. You have the opportunity to define what you do for the rest of your life… however long that might be. Yeah. Kinda a big deal… kinda a hard time… but of course, with some irreplaceable life experiences and a zeal to press on press on press on, the early 20's can make or break you.

Let us speak now of the post-25’s – likely you have your world set before you and are starting to recognize the consequences (or rewards) of your choices made in your pre-25 years. Many over 25’s are done with some portion of education, or beginning a promising career, or settled into their career for a few years. Many post-25’s may have started some semblance of a family, or traveled out of the country, or participated in a marathon, finally have dental insurance, or even just able to buy a car that doesn’t come with weird quarks like having to coax it into reverse, no air conditioning, or having to climb in the passenger side door because the handle broke off your 87 Plymouth Horizon lovingly referred to by your friends as “the whore.” You might say that your post-25’s are the true beginning of adulthood. You’re entering the realm of real responsibility and instead of having dreams and aspirations; you can actually see them coming true; finally on your way. Go ahead man! Set the cruise for a few miles and enjoy what your pre-25 choices have given you. Roll down that window, breath in some fresh air, and consider yourself a working professional. Goodness; someone might even take you seriously now! You should buy a suit or something!

Yes, I believe the other side of 25 will work out just fine for me. I feel that the second half of the 20’s is MY half. Sure I guess some could experience that “it feels good to know me and be me” earlier than 25, but I think my pre-25 years prepared me for what’s coming… the other side of 25; the better half; my better half.