31 December 2013

The Most Sacred

I am finally trying to be brave again, so I want to write about something intimately important to me, Temples.

Temples are one of the biggest blessings that come along with being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

Temples are amazing. Temples are sacred. Temples are special. The spirit of God dwells there, and it is impossible not to feel it.

I have had friends ask me questions about what we do there. Our experiences there are so sacred that we don't share details about the covenants or  ordinances we experience there. It isn't weird or crazy. Just sacred and personal.

We make covenants that require us to live righteously. We are instructed about the Lord's gospel. We do ordinances for the dead.

The dead people part creeps people out sometimes. Other people think that we force our religion on deceased persons by doing this. It isn't creepy or forceful. We look into our family history, perform the ordinances by proxy for those who have lost their bodies through death, and they have the opportunity to accept or refuse those ordinances.  We aren't pushy. The Lord has promised that every person will have the opportunity to accept His gospel, and this is part of how He keeps that promise.

The part that always leaves me feeling unexplainable gratitude is the fact that in the Temple I was able to be sealed to my husband forever. Time and eternity baby. And, as we have our children, they are bound to us eternally as well. If we live righteously and keep our part of the covenants and promises, our relationship will be always.

I can't imagine not having my C with me. Ever. Because of the temple, I never have to be without him, even after we go to the next thing after mortality.

Every time I leave the temple I feel empowered and more capable of dealing with my personal temptations and trials than I did when I went in. There is no better place to find peace, and escape from the trouble and pain and frustration of being human.

I love the temple.

 

24 December 2013

Apologies for the price of postage

We were unable to send a card and letter to everyone we would have wished, so here it is. Merry Christmas. Isn't our Savior the greatest!?


You guys. 2013. It happened. It happened in a marvelous way. We arrived in Le Sueur, Minnesota on December 31, 2012, and started out the brand new year in a brand new place. It has had its challenges, but they have been mustard seeds in comparison to our yoga-ball sized blessings.

Chesley continues to work like a mad man to keep our lives up and running. He worked many 18+ hour days this summer, and always still had a positive attitude when he got home. He even still had a positive attitude when he would wake up before 4:00 the next morning to start another long day. Can we just bottle this positive energy already? We’d be rich. He got more flight time than last year, and is so excited to be a full time pilot next year. Finally! Three year old Chesley’s dream comes true!

I am still momming it up around here. Bein’ a mom.  I have a hard time finding grown up things to do sometimes, but building blocks and Bob the Builder will have to do as pass times for now. The baby and I spent a full three months in Utah and Idaho this summer while Ches was working those crazy hours. I did have some elderly women in my parents’ ward concerned about my marriage after such a long trip, but we managed to stay in love, and the trip was a treat. With Chesley being gone so much we were right where we needed to be.

Maverik grows and grows and grows! In both stature and personality. He is busting at the seams with it. He doesn’t say many actual words, (mama, daddy, and Bob), but he jabbers nonstop in his own little baby words.  He loves to throw, and we are constantly blocking our faces and flinching away from projectiles. We are working on clearing up the rules on what can be thrown safely and what draws blood.

So, we raise our glasses of non-alcoholic sparkling white grape juice (it’s the best kind) to the passing of another wonderful year. We hope the Spirit of Christ fills your Holiday season. Loves from the Lewis family.

12 December 2013

Bandwandogens

I think I got on another bandwagon without realizing what I was doing.

I am a complete reality tv junkie. The vocal competitions and the biggest loser are my particular weaknesses.

 I have been in love with these two since their audition. They are so....organic. Weird word to desribe it, but it fits.

If I had the gumption to try and put myself out there as an artist, I would go for a style very similar to theirs.

I had a hard time deciding which of their songs to post. You should go watch them ALL. I couldn't find videos of just the songs, but no need to taint your listening experience by listening to the judges comments at the end.

Tell me what you think!

 

04 December 2013

Some times

One time I was so into a television show that I forgot to turn the burner off when I removed my finished ramen noodle dinner from the stove (We were still students, and Ches was waiting tables that night, so naturally that was what I was eating). A potholder was touching the burner. The apartment was completely filled with smoke before it tore my attention away from the screen in order to prevent my fiery death.

One time I didn't notice a hole in my black tights until we were on our way out the door to church. I grabbed a sharpie and colored my skin underneath to hide it. I took the marker with me in case the tights shifted. They did. C still teases me for walking around with big black marker moles on the back of my legs for a couple of days.

One time I dropped my phone on my one month old child's face. Avoid being over-zealous about baby photos.

One time I had to throw up (morning sickness ruuuuules) at the school before my students arrived. Apparently my skirt was a little tight because the slit ripped all the way up to my mid-bum. I had to waddle back to the classroom clutching my behind while trying to stay slinked against the walls. I re-learned two things, I can arch my back really well, and safety pins are a good tool.

 

25 November 2013

Some new lyrics to a Christmas classic.

I haven't done one of these since 2010, so I figured I might as well do it again. Also, I wish I could copy this post every year, because it is truly how I feel. I always forget how indifferent I am about hot chocolate.

Dear hand-me-down garland,
Since you are are doubling for our tree this year, I am pretty happy about you. You look cute with ornaments hanging on you. However, you will not always have that particular honor, so enjoy it. I am hoping 2014 can bring us our first actual Christmas tree....Also, I apologize for the bunching of lights on one end, and sparsity of them on your other. 




Dear 'Bing Crosby' Pandora station,
Marvelous. I have no complaints other than that you have way too many versions of "Baby, Its Cold Outside" and "Santa Baby". Stop it. Other than that, don't stop it. Play on.

Dear C,
Thank you for loving me enough to give in on your hard and fast 'no Holiday music before Thanksgiving' rule. I am not sure I really knew what real love was before this. Also, you did a pretty good job of meticulously painting my popsicle sticks red. Lets make out later.




Dear Pinterest,
Thank you for allowing me to feel festive with  the aforementioned popsicle sticks and metallic poster board. You truly understand poor people on a budget.  




Dear Christmas,
Come come come come. (read to the beat  of the little drummer boy's rum tum tum tum. Obviously.)

18 November 2013

How I am like a river fish

I have been labeled as a 'hipster' several times over the last month or two. It must be the thick rimmed glasses, and total disregard for how colors and patterns were meant to be put together.  And, I definitely have hips. If I like something, I wear it. The label doesn't offend me at all, but I don't drink coffee, so that is an automatic out. 

My brother and I had an interesting conversation after someone asked me if I considered myself to be hipster. This question always confuses me. I usually find myself making a confused face and saying, "I don't think so...?" We talked about what being a hipster actually means. We came to the conclusion that being hipster basically means liking things because no one else does. Hipsters are trying to be the salmon of our society, swimming against the current of all of the social facets you can imagine: music, food, politics, books, movies, fashion, education,aaaaaaand the list could be endless. An important word here is trying. All of a sudden hipsters became popular, and now swim in multitudes, pretty much creating a counter current, but I digress....

My Salmony tendencies:

 I love discovering music before it goes mainstream. Then, if they do get widely discovered and wonderful songs get overhashed on the raido, I go through a period of mourning. I feel like a lot of artists loose their center when they go mainstream.

I have been getting seriously upset about the sudden immense popularity of my most beloved television series. I don't even want to tell you what it is because I can just see some of you rolling your eyes and thinking," Oh, just another person on THAT annoying bandwagon." But seriously. I loved the Doctor before this huge fan wave hit America. I have this completely unjustified sense of ownership for Doctor Who. So, I'll just wear my Dalek socks and pretend like its still 2008.

And that about ends it. Two. I have two hipster tendencies. Well, three if you count my fashion choices. 

So, hurrah to thick rims, slouchy hats, plaid, and all other patterned things.


                           

01 November 2013

a compromise

Halloween has been on my 'hardly like at all' list for as long as I can remember.

My indifference toward it must have started the year I forgot about costumes until an hour before trick-or-treating, so my mom safety-pinned the lacy piano runner to a white elastic head band, put me in what was probably my little brother's sunday shirt, and called me a bride. Not a pretty bride. A very embarrassed bride.

I also have a distinct memory from another year of driving to a neighborhood with which we were not familiar. Our neighborhood was not the nice one to trick-or-treat, so we went somewhere else. I was too nervous about the scary looking decorations to get out of the car. When my siblings returned with otterpops, I was overcome with jealous distress.

I have had little love for it ever since. 

Mr. Lewis looks on it as quite another matter. Halloween is important. 

Discussing my determination to not dress up, and his determination for me to do the opposite is honestly the closest we have ever been to having a real fight. We have worked it out every year so far with no marital damage.

So, here is to this year's compromises! 


                               

                     

                     

29 October 2013

I have always had an overactive imagination

I saw my friend Jess the day before I left Brigham City to come back to Le Sueur. We talked about her upcoming move across the country to where her husband will be going to school. We were only able to chat for about one minute, then I had to take the donuts I was buying out to devour my share to anxiously waiting family. She mentioned our meeting on her (completely awesome) blog, and it got me thinking.

I found myself thinking about moving. Moving across the country, far from what is familiar. It made me remember the anticipation of wondering how it would be, what the people would be like, how I would fit in and find new friends, what color the sky would be. You know. Thinking about how my life would carry on at all.

I remember the first walk I went on by myself in this new little town.  It was January, and just as you might imagine, Minnesota's offerings of pleasant walking weather in January might mean 30 degrees. It was quite cold. I had had a long day alone with the baby, and Ches urged me to get out for a few minutes when he got home from work.

No one else was outside. It was only rows of cold, stoic house fronts, and tightly shut doors. In my mind I imagined the occupants of those silent houses looking out their peep holes, or through their lacy curtains, and shaking their heads,whitened with age and wisdom, that someone who didn't belong in their town was walking down the sidewalk. It all felt very melancholy and dramatic. I believe I even imagined someone opening their door to throw something at me.

It all seems very silly now that I am settled in, and growing familiar with this place, but the images that surfaced in my head as I shuffled down that uneven sidewalk were true to how I was feeling: unknown, a little lost, out of place, and apprehensive.

So Jess, let me tell you something. You'll have your own walk in January. But, let me tell you something else. After you get back inside, and your husband has made you a cup of cocoa, and put chicken nuggets in the oven, so you don't have to cook dinner, life keeps going on. Not only does it keep going on, it starts to feel normal in a way you never anticipated was possible so far from where you had always been before.

Then, at some point, it starts to feel like its own version of home.

                                 

25 October 2013

just today

I remembered that I once confused the words 'pubic' and 'cuticle'....horrifying. 

Don't ask me why.

Perhaps its the same reason I have to think for at lease 15 seconds before I can differentiate between Reese Witherspoon and Kate Hudson in my mind.

My husband might argue that it is probably related to the same brain disfunction that causes my lack of attraction for George Clooney. 

Why I can never say the word repricocity reciprocity correctly. So hard.

Not to mention this list of items. 

Do you know what is not hard? Looking at this face.


                           

23 October 2013

I was hiding under a bush, so to speak.

Fear is something I have in abundance. I am afraid of a lot of things. Much to my chagrin, a lot of my fears have to do with what I think other people will think of me. Like every human being, I battle feelings of inadequacy. 

I'm working on it.

One of my biggest fears has always been talking about my faith. The faith that I have in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. The faith that I have in Jesus Christ as my Savior, in living prophets, in studying the word of God, in serving people. I also believe in being good and kind to all people, no matter how they may differ from me. 

Growing up in Utah where the overwhelming majority of people went to the same church, meant that I took people's beliefs for granted. 

I was also afraid of putting my testimony, my soul out there on the line only to have it scoffed at or rejected harshly. 

Going to College helped me learn that even in Utah, people are diverse and believe many things. I also learned that there are a lot of non-Mormon people in Utah that find the church or some of its members annoying,overbearing, or even offensive. The idea of becoming that person scared me enough to almost never talk about religion with people outside of the Mormon community. We just talked about everything else instead. Occasionally friends would ask me questions, and I would answer them quickly, and try to move on in order to get out of the danger zone.

Facepalm.

I am trying not to be afraid anymore. 

I'm a Mormon. I adore being a Mormon. The knowledge of the Gospel gives me a foundation and a direction that I could not get anywhere else. I have a close relationship with a Heavenly Father who knows me very well, and makes his presence obvious in my life by answering my endless prayers, and extending tender mercies when I feel like I am nearing the end of my capacity to cope. 

I have now had the chance to have wonderful, non-scary talks with friends about my testimony. Even if they aren't that curious, so far, no one has been scary or unkind. Its not like we are talking about politics...its just religion right? :D

In order to help me really move past this dumbly immense fear I have created for myself, I am going to start posting once in a while about some of the things I love about my Faith. If spiritual things annoy you or make you uncomfortable, feel free to skip those posts. I won't mind. Don't worry about this blog becoming a bible school. Not going to happen. I will continue to make other posts as well. 

If you are ever curious about anything I post, please don't hesitate to ask me through the comments or an email. If you don't want to ask, the church's website holds many answers and resources. 

Here is to the end of fear.

19 October 2013

Why I can't have a fashion blog..

besides the fact that most of my wardrobe from my freshman year of college is still in my closet....

17 October 2013

I am in mourning about sex

A question has been on my mind for months now. I can't shake it. I am swallowed with sadness every time I think about it. 


Why is casual intimacy a thing, a very very common thing even? Why is fidelity dying? 

I watch a lot of New Girl. I adore it. Its clever and funny and delightful. However, one thing that has bothered me from the beginning is the casualness with which they talk about sex. They are intimate with people they don't know, and at one point Schmit expresses distress when he realizes he is in love, and now has to have feelings in order to take pleasure in sex. 

I am so sickened. Its not just New Girl. Its EVERY show. ew.

How are we so off the mark as an entire society.




Relationships are not easy. This is not new news. Putting two lives together takes communication and compromise. It always will. 

Good relationships take a good esophagus that is equipped to swallow lots and lots of pride. I have had an awful lot of practice apologizing through gritted teeth because I knew it was what I should do, but far from what my ego wanted me to do. I am not tooting my own horn. I am not perfect. I haven't done the right thing every time. My pride wins out in turns.

I am not a relationship expert, but here is what I think. Teenagers shouldn't be having sex. Twelve year olds should be roller skating, not worrying about being popular or getting a boyfriend or girlfriend. Married couples should stay married, unless divorce is really the best option (Which I acknowledge totally does happen. Abuse of any kind and other kinds of issues of that nature do not apply to my point). 

I don't believe people just fall out of love. That is poop. Forgive my French. At least one of the people in that relationship stopped trying. They stopped doing things for their spouse, they stopped holding hands. They stopped saying 'I love you' every day. They stopped discovering each other. What are relationships without discovery? I am not saying every day of the rest of your life with the same person is never going to seem mundane. It will. But it won't always. 


This whole post is a bit disconnected,and far from my best attempt at prose, but this topic is important. So important.

Lets take a little, or a lot, of the sex out of our media and society, and save it for people who are ready to commit to each other until the end. Save it to be special and precious.

In the mean time, talk, walk, and have adventures to get to know each other instead of taking off clothes. 

02 October 2013

How I apply comic books to real life.

Kryptonite. It is not a real thing. But it's totally a real thing.

I differ in many ways from Kryptonite's original victim. Wearing my underwear under my clothes and understanding that glasses are not an effective disguise are just the beginning of that list. 

This list is just about Kryptonite. The fact that the man of steel only has one weakness is totally proof of his superness.

This is a list of my brands of Kryptonite. They are many. Here are five of them.


                                   

Cookies: you guys are aware if this. I talk about food often, and cookies are in my mind and in my belly particularly often. I have a problem. Seeking cookie counseling. I could really eat an entire dozen cookies without even pausing to consider the fact that it isn't good for me, and sometimes I get curious about how many I could eat before I get sick.

Head massage: That thing the wicked witch does when they throw water on her at the end of Wizard of Oz? I do that, except with happy ooooh's and aaaaaah's, slobber coming forth from the corner of my mouth, and crossed eyes. I puddlefy on the spot. A guy that was once interested in me discovered this, and used it as a party trick a couple of times. As in, hey guys, watch this... I become an instantaneous puddle. I didn't think it was very funny. Just very awkward. We didn't date.

Shoes: a typical womanly weakness. Here's the thing, the right shoes can make a bland outfit feel unique or spunky. This is important to me. I hate feeling meh, bleh, blah, or pleh. Shoes are an easy way to avoid that. And it is hard to be too chubby for shoes....unless we are talking about knee length boots. I can never zip those up over my (not even that big) legs. A topic for not right now. In short, shoes can be a quick way to just feel a little better about the world.

Soft Serve Swirl Cones: Yes, another food item makes my top five list of weaknesses. This particular weakness brings on the side of me that C refers to as "baby Karlie". I will mow right over old people on the sidewalk if there is a soft serve place in sight. My voice suddenly jumps up an octave  and my vocabulary shrinks to mostly squeals and laughs. I'm not kidding. Something just...comes over me. The ice cream bliss. Swirl cones in Cars Land and Charlie's in Logan are tied for the win.

HGTV: I argue that this is useful. I have learned SO much about what I want in a home as far as design and aesthetics than I ever would have figured out watching The Walking Dead (ugh) or Community, or trying to figure it out without television or pinterest (can you IMAGINE?). It doesn't hurt that the Income Property guy is the real life Flynn Rider, Property brothers are so cute, and Kitchen Cousins....well who doesn't visually enjoy them. 

Kryptonite. It's a real thing.


16 September 2013

Pages

I have all sorts of soap-boxy things that I have been itching to write about. I feel like the world in general gets more and more messed up, and just wish everyone could somehow end up on the same page.

My page is pretty good. I'd be fine if everyone came to my page. Its a pretty happy place. I am also open to looking at other pages. Maybe we could have a little page pow-wow in order to pick and choose the best parts to make one SUPER great page for everyone to be on.

And please, can we have every-day, non-powerful,nice people do most of the page writing? Thanks.




07 September 2013

A heaven of sorts


Because who wouldn't be I heaven surrounded by delicious raspberries.

Only evil people.

                                
  
                             






30 August 2013

Just need to design a super suit

We have been having a lovely rain storm in Malad this morning.

The thundering kind of lovely. There are few natural things that I love better than thunder. It is so powerful in such a comforting way. I am not sure when piddle-causing childhood terror turned into comfort, but somewhere in my tween years it (thankfully) made that transition.

M and I are the only ones in the house. Well, Tanner is in the basement somewhere, but he is sleeping which means he basically doesn't exist. A few minutes ago M started playing with something he probably shouldn't get into, so I gave him a mom look, and told him to "be careful".

As if to back up my mothering wisdom, a wave of booming thunder followed immediately after I finished speaking.  I held my mom expression on M as if that follow up had actually been part of my plan. I wish he was six, and could think I actually had powers. He did back away, so....that could mean something.

Don't you mom's wish that the Heavens and nature backed up your authority all of the time in such a commanding and obvious way?

I guess I know my new dream super power.

aaaaand here is a picture of my child playing naked on the stairs with a bottle of Tylenol....because that's how we roll.

23 August 2013

Why I know I could be a world champion Latin Dancer or Soap Opera star

This diddy has been stuck in my head for about 6 years. I think Doris Day is bomb, and I consider this song to be one of her best vocals.

You just can't help but pretend that you are a very serious and sexy dancer as you listen to it while carrying your computer up the stairs. You may or may not whip your head back dramatically, and throw your arms into the air in slow motion Paso Doble style.

Your baby will probably find it hilarious and laugh at you.

Just close your eyes, and tell that flaky man to get his act together before you are forced to take your dark luxurious eyelashes and tiny waist elsewhere.

 

20 August 2013

I'll be on the Discovery Channel very soon

My family has taken an annual camping trip up Logan Canyon every with some of our closest friends every summer for the last nine years. There is the perfect natural swimming hole, and that is what continues to pull us back to the same spot over and over.

The water is cold enough that it makes your bone marrow hurt, but whatever. Thats what is means to be wildernessy, so we make that sacrifice

We had a very wildernessy week.

Wildernessy: A time that is filled with being in the wilderness. Or, just being outside a lot.

Wearing chacos for at least one full day is a qualifier. Having plumbing and running water available does not disqualify.

My baby slept soundly through two nights in a tent, so I am basically going to be replacing Bear Grylls. You will be seeing machete packaging with my face on it very soon.

Do you have any fun summer traditions?







08 August 2013

Homliness. The Good Kind. The feelingy kind.

Holy. Slackage.

I know it is cliche, and lame, but I have no idea what happened to the last five weeks.

I only feel a little sorry that blogging hasn't been high enough on my priority list to get done.  I have been too busy basking in the glorious feeling that is the home of my childhood.

I have two homes now. In Minnesota when I talk about "home" I mean Utah. In Utah when I talk about "home", I mean Minnesota. 

I'm pretty lucky. In this case, two is better than one. 

Home is a funny thing isn't it? I have seen all sorts of cutesy and over the top word arts on pinterest talking about what home is. Most of them make me throw up in my mouth a little.

Yes, the heart is there. C and M are definitely required. But, what swirly word art stenciled on to wood can't explain... is that familiar feeling that settles in all over and in you. It is an inside-out ordeal. That place in the very center of you relaxes.  You see things without having to look at them. Things can seem familiar and new simultaneously. I read those last few sentences, and they don't quite explain, but I don't think they could.

Its a matter of feelingyness, not words put in yellow vinyl on a block of wood.


* I do not judge you if you love those blocks of wood. They just aren't my style!

20 July 2013

Over the hills

I have been traveling traveling traveling.

Hence my inexcusable neglect of cyberspace. (It has actually been a nice break. However, I didn't tell you that.)

Finding a new rhythm has been nearly impossible because I have scarcely spent more than two days in one place ( I feel so....Elizabeth Bennett-y when I use the word scarcely).

M and I came from the great white North, went to Malad, Boise, Malad, and home again all within a week. We put a day of camping in there somewhere too.


And we are in love with it all.

03 July 2013

Those times I missed it...

"it" being that thing that was meant to be obvious. 

I feel like I am a fairly intelligent person. I love to learn. I always did well in school. I am not super ditzy or anything (right guys...?). 

But then it takes me 18 years of being alive to realize that the symbol for the greatest store, Target.....is a Target. I just saw a solid circle inside of a hollowed out circle. facepalm. In my defense, Wal-Mart had a monopoly on the smiley face for a while, and there was no obvious connection there.



. . .
It takes me 19 year to finish Pumba's rhyme in the middle of Hanukah Matata. You know the one. "And I got down hearted. How did you feel? Every time that I Pumba! Not in front of the kids!" 

For years I remember thinking, "Huh. Every time that he what? I guess I will never know. Silly Disney people." 

I grew up in a home where flatulence was the go-to humor subject. Tell me, please, how I missed that one until I was a grown up.

. . .
U-haul....isn't just a coincidence. Its clever. You-haul it yourself. Yeah. I was old enough to be married to a very sad man shaking his head. 


. . .
Aaaaaaand Friday. June 28, 2013. Like, FIVE days ago. I was doing the dishes while listening to a Katie Perry song. Hot N' Cold. We all know it. In my duet with Ms. Perry I sang the line: "we used to be just like twins, so in sync", and I thought,"funny. That sounds like N'SYNC. I wonder if they...."

and I hung my head in shame.


Selfie courtesy of photobooth and 2008

Please tell me I am not the only one....

30 June 2013

I am Shameless

So I have to post M's one year portraits. I love them.

*Disclaimers

I am not a professional.

I took about 75 pictures, and these five are the best. Yes, I know a couple of them are not completely in focus. Oops.

One year old children are not the most cooperative subjects to work with (I forgot the treats. facepalm.)

I don't have photoshop, and don't know how to use it anyway.

Drumroll:














27 June 2013

Breaking the first rule of time.

My enviably lovely friend Lacy wrote a post today that I completely love, so I decided to take a shot at being as lovely as she is by copying her (form of flattery...right?). 

To my 16 year old self,

Don't feel so intimidated by those "attractive" boys in the grade above you. You think that they think that you are a nerdy loser (wordy much?), but they don't think of you at all. Which is a-okay.

Be a little more reliable. I know you want to see everyone and go to everything, but your friends are going to tease you for years about being the flaky one. But, they will also stick around forever.

Please don't wear those cut off tights beneath your knee length shorts because you are embarrassed of your legs. You will get tired of people asking if you are a burn patient. Also,your legs aren't nearly as ugly as you think they are.

Those overalls you think are cool, really are pretty cool, but get them in a long.

Don't be sad that you don't have a boyfriend. You have the best and sweetest guy friends in the world, and you will date later. You'll have a boyfriend next year for a little while, and it isn't nearly as fun. Enjoy the freedom of being close to so many wonderful people in an unattached way.

Make more time to talk with your girlfriends. You will wish you had worried more about them and less about yourself.

Enjoy the crap out of that music. You will never be immersed in it like that again, and you will ache for it. Go for more solo's and sing louder with the radio because your voice will be out of practice before you know it.

Don't let anyone dissuade you from wearing that purple choir robe in your school picture. It totally goes with the parrot ear rings.

Also, try not to go outside looking like this.






24 June 2013

How love and belly button lint connect

Lets talk about love for a minute.

I keep seeing things in books, television, and movies, that try to suggest that love and attraction should start as an intense, irresistible chemistry, and that the intensity should never fade. 

Your skin should burn every time his skin touches your skin. Even when his elbow accidentally touches your arm because he is taking way too wide of an eating berth at the table. Smoldery burniness along side ,"please pass the salt". 

Stephanie Meyer tells lies. Hollywood tells lies. Karen Carpenter tells lies.

I love Karen Carpenter as much as anyone, but she sometimes sings untruths with that buttery voice. Lies stolen from Barry Manilow. 

I was singing this song while doing dishes the other day, and realized how awful the lyrics are:

At any moment he'll be walking through that doorBut he won't find me behind it'Cause the feeling is gone and just won't come back any moreI worked so hard to find it
I've been up, down, tryin' to get the feeling againAll around tryin' to get the feeling againThat one that made me shiverMake my knees start to quiver every time he walks in
I've read every book, looked for every meditation and poemJust to bring home that old sweet sensationBut it ain't no use to me to try to get the feelingI wanna get that feeling again

KJ Translates: (ahem) I am going to disappear mysteriously from your life because you aren't exciting anymore. I don't get all melty around you. I miss feeling melty. I haven't really liked you for a while now, so I read a couple meditation books about how to find you exciting again, but they were garbage. Ciao.

 What rubbish!


C and I never had this burning, irresistible chemistry. You may not believe it
when you see this picture from his junior year in high school....who could not feel warm fuzziness in their hearts while looking at that?!



Adorable even underneath that permed mop. I digress, as usual. 

Anyway, we were just two people who got along really well,(after a few months of me grudgingly holding on to an unfounded dislike) gave dating a try, and here we are! Love is vital to my life, and can be so exciting, but it isn't all fireworks and passion (maybe I'm missing out? But it actually sounds exhausing).

Love is eating your own pride for breakfast, and trying to keep it down for the rest of day.  

Love is NOT running when the newness and excitement wears off, and it will. I am not saying that relationships can't start with sparks and that knee quivery feeling, but realize that it wears off! Besides, you would end up with really bad knees, and probably get annoyed if it didn't wear off.  

Love is making yourself hold his hand in the car when you are super mad because you know you can't stay mad too long that way. 

Love is learning to not freak out when he throws is belly button lint into your hair because he knows it freaks you out. He kills the big bugs, so...

*disclaimer for C's benefit. He has done this only one and a half times. It was so traumatic that he will never live it down.

Point: Don't read Stephanie Meyer or watch any movie ever again. Pfff. Yeah right. Watch those delightful romantic comedies. Read those silly, books if you must. Enjoy them while recognizing that they pretty much don't portray any part of reality.

Use them to escape, and don't get too upset when belly button lint floating in front of your face pulls you back into a real and loving reality.