Bring on the Heartbreak

The following post is going to confuse some people. These are they who have experienced the topic of the post. These are they who may want to shield me from pain or suffering. These are they who simply do not understand that some life experiences should not be missed - even if they hurt.

I'm not sure how many people know my opinion on this. I don't know how many times I've actually given this opinion...no, longing...a voice. But I imagine that there will be those that will try to offer comfort or advice - something - in order to get me to change my mind. Will.Not.Happen. My desires on this particular topic are pretty much cemented.*

So after this preface, dear reader, you are wondering what I am going on about. And so, I will quote Oscar Wilde, who said, "The heart was meant to be broken."

Meant to be broken. I'm sure he uttered these words after his had been broken. Or perhaps he just witnessed his sister's broken heart. Or maybe he was completely cruel, and when his now ex-lover was crying, "You're breaking my heart!" he coldly turned down the stairs of her front porch, said that hearts were meant to be as such, and walked out of her life for good. I really don't know the context. But I think, that if hearts were meant to be broken, and mine never has been (and is no where in the vicinity of coming close) - I am missing out.

I'm not counting the times when my heart has broken for someone. And I don't think Oscar meant that either. Whenever my brother thinks that he is worth nothing or doesn't deserve love - my heart breaks for him. Whenever I hear about someone on the new losing a mother or father or child - my heart breaks for that family. This is not what I am talking about.

I'm talking about the pain and suffering that comes from being rejected or breaking up. The kind that emotionally scars people - eventually making them better people - and makes it hard for them to trust or love again. The kind of heartbreak that eventually leads to you wanting to key his car. Then in some sort of nostalgic manner, burn everything he ever gave you.

But why would anyone want to subject themselves to that?!

Here are my thoughts:

• Breaking up with someone means that you were actually in a relationship
• Relationships - especially ones that don't last - are extremely educational, you learn so much about life and human nature
• Overcoming heartbreak makes the human spirit stronger.
• Once you have an ex, your world is open to topics of conversation that you were previously excluded/unable to contribute to - everyone should have "ex" stories.
• You can provide a sort of empathy to the next person you meet who is going through something similar - it just doesn't do to have someone crying on your shoulder about lost love when you don't comprehend. In your mind you're thinking, "Just get over it." "It wasn't meant to be." etc. But having gone through the experience yourself, you can offer empathy.
• Personally - I could use a little "cool down" period. A time in my life where romance, love and mush didn't appeal to me. I could use a little "man-hating" time. Like Picasso's Blue Period, only it would be "Shelli's Man-Hating Period." Because, really...I don't hate them at all right now.
  

So what does a girl have to do to get her heart broken around here?



*I forgot to say that, of course, I would take a HEA (happily ever after) over a broken heart. I'm not going to sabotage something that might come along that would be great...just in order to have my heart broken. That would just be stupid.

B+S = One Year

My cousin Andrew invited me up to Bear Lake for the weekend. He and some buddies decided to ride down from Idaho on their motorcycles and rent a hotel room on the lake and said I could tag along if I wanted.

Oh, I wanted.

So Becca and I made it up to Logan - where we discovered a magical place. Everything is better in Logan. Everything as in: The Wal Mart (amazing) and the Arby's (impressive). We chilled around waiting for Andrew, et. al. to arrive [insert shock here: I know I am usually the one being WAITED ON instead of doing the WAITING. Point taken. I don't like it.] and Becca and I discovered that it was our one-year anniversary of our friendship.

Approximately one year ago Becca walked into my life and asked me, "Did we just become best friends?" To which I replied enthusiastically, "YUP!" Literally, we were friends within 30 seconds.

So, the perfect way to celebrate was by our little anniversary weekend at Bear Lake. We drove. And drove. And drove. And discovered a part of Utah that neither of us have had the chance to experience. Cache Forest is beautiful. The canyon is beautiful. Bear Lake is beautiful. We lounged by the pool and sunbathed, made an excursion to Idaho, and then explored Minnetonka Cave. All while trying to avoid the mosquitoes...

It was lovely.

Therapist

I do not have a psychiatrist and I do not want one, for the simple reason that if he listened to me long enough, he might become disturbed.
~ James Thurber ~

Did you ever have a minor self-discovery, or remember something that you probably should have forgotten - but it was pivotal in learning about yourself, who you are or why you are the way you are?

And you didn't want to tell anyone?

But you sort of needed someone to know?

You can't write it on your blog...aside from the fact that your blog automatically goes to your parents and a few other chosen ones; your friends have subscribed to it; or you simply don't want to see it in writing - not to mention the fact that it is on the Web, and therefore insecure and available to almost anyone to begin with. You don't want to write it in your actual journal (if you have one) because your progeny (who may or may not exist) does NOT need to know about this particular discovery. It probably isn't necessary for your Bishop (or other ecclesiastical leader) to know it. Really, you don't want it out in the open for someone that actually knows you.

Isn't this the most perfect situation to have a shrink in your employ? Not only would the doctor be able to help you analyze, but he/she would be bound by the patient/doctor relationship and so you know that no one would ever find out. But it would be out in the open. You could talk about it. You could understand it.

So one day, I might just hire a shrink. In case this ever happens.

Evidence

Some of you have doubted the fact that I am able to accomplish an independent study course - much less STATS 221 as independent study. I am here to set your ill-at-ease minds to rest, and prove to you that I have, in fact, opened my course and I am looking.

Even though I would rather:

• Pluck out EVERY hair on my body with tweezers
• Eat egg whites and celery
• Jump from a burning building into a pile of broken glass
• Shovel manure
  
• Cut off my toes - and NOT for the benefit of science
• Peel off my fingernails
• And any number of other measure of torture

I have started!

"You haven't told me yet," said Lady Nuttall, "what it is your fiancé does for a living."

"He's a statistician," replied Lamia, with an annoying sense of being on the defensive.

Lady Nuttall was obviously taken aback. It had not occurred to her that statisticians entered into normal social relationships. The species, she would have surmised, was perpetuated in some collateral manner, like mules.

"But, it's a very interesting profession," said Lamia warmly.

"I don't doubt it," said the lady, who obviously doubted it very much.

-The Dreaded Lesson Manual

I have it on good authority that we should trust the aristocracy - especially when they are right. (Meaning, not only is Stats NOT interesting...it is also torture, tedious, horrible and any other word you can possibly throw at it that is negative!)

For those of you wondering, though, (As I know a great many of you are) Stats is defined as:

Statistics is the science of collecting, organizing, and interpreting numerical facts—which we call data. We are bombarded by data in our everyday life. Most of us associate "statistics" with the bits of datum that appear in news reports: baseball batting averages, imported car sales, the latest poll of the president's popularity, and the average high temperature for today's date. Advertisements often claim that data show the superiority of the advertiser's product. All sides in public debates about economics, education, and social policy argue from data. Yet the usefulness of statistics goes far beyond these everyday examples.

In a completely unrelated note - Check out Ray LaMontagne and Landon Pigg...they are seriously so WONDERFUL to listen to and have an 98.7% rate of making me happy, with a zero margin of error.

Ray...



Or Landon...

mi padre

So yesterday was Father's day.

I have been thinking about my dad a lot. First I was thinking about what to get my dad for Father's Day. Then I was thinking about what card to get for Father's Day. Then I was thinking about the blog post I was going to write for Father's Day.

There was a lot of thinking, and a whole lot of nothing happening. But my father expects this of me...or he should. I am a master procrastinator. And no, I did not learn that from him. If I had picked up his traits, I would not be a procrastinator at all.

I wanted to write a big long post about all the things that I have learned from my dad, and the amazing life lessons he's taught me. For some reason, I keep thinking to myself, "Man, I must have gotten that _______ [insert trait/attribute/habit here] from Dad." Only, when I go to write it down, I can't remember what it is. But let me tell you, this non-existent list is getting quite hefty. Because, even though I can't remember; and even though we are so incredibly different: we're not really. He has taught me well. And as I grow and mature, I think I will be more like him. I'll just eat better.

As I was thinking about my dad the last few days, the main thing that just kept coming to my mind was: I love him.

I love him, a lot.

I just do. My dad is singularly, one of the greatest men I know. I love him. I love him. I love him. I just don't think that I say it enough. I don't think that the depth of my love comes across very easily. He is what I compare most men to. He is everything. Because he is the musician/farm boy/biker/nerd/business man/construction worker/athlete....all rolled into one. How awesome is that? He plays guitar, rides motor cycles, can build a house from the ground up, fix computers and all things electronic, plays basketball, and...he's spiritual. His background involves a turkey farm, tobacco farm, tractors and horses.

I don't know any other man that is as versatile as my dad.

On top of that, I love that he has truly taught me what to look for when I am looking for my own husband. It will be impossible to find someone with so many varied interests as my dad, but if I just look for the basics...I think I will do alright.

• Someone who loves the Lord. My dad served a full-time mission for the Church. He served in bishoprics and elders' quorum, and all other manner of church callings. He prays and reads his scriptures. And he is worthy to hold the priesthood - the power of God. I have never been turned away when I need a blessing, because he has always been worthy.
• Someone who works hard. My dad has always had a full-time job. It didn't matter whether or not he was in school full-time too, but he has always worked. On top of that, he has worked side jobs all my life. Whether it was fixing toilets, finishing basements, roofing or painting a house, building decks, etc. He used to referee basketball (awesome!). And on top of all of that, he worked on his house, too. Doing all of that and more. He's always on the go, and always working to provide for our family. There is nothing more commendable than that.
• Someone who loves his family. Not just his wife and kids - though he is particularly devoted to us all. But his mom and dad, brothers and sisters. My dad's family has taught me what a true family is. To be there when it counts. To sustain and support whether emotionally, financially or physically. I have been so blessed to be a member of his family - and I am so grateful that he has maintained those ties and relationships with his family members so that I could grow up with knowing my aunts, uncles and cousins.

So Dad, even though this post is a day late (two, if we are on Ohio time) I just want you to know that I love you and that I am thinking about you. And I appreciate you.

You are my hero. You are my example.

Love you,
Shelli

Whoamazing Sandwich!

On the way back from Idaho, we stopped at the Crossroads Diner in Tremonton, Utah. It was really ghetto and while speculating how they could possibly stay in business we ordered sandwiches. The sandwich I got was fairly delicious. And easily recreated.

So after I dropped Becca off at the airport, I tried my hand at making my own awesome sandwich - and succeeded, exponentially.

1. Sautee green peppers and onions
2. Melt pepperjack cheese on top of creation
3. Put turkey on whole grain bread
4. Add green peppers and onions, and a little bit of spicy ranch dressing
5. Return to pan to brown the bread
6. Add tomatoes

Um...can I just say - DELICIOUS! I would say that maybe it was because I was starving and that was the reason this tasted so good. Perhaps it was the fact that I made it myself using whatever pans and dishes and making messes knowing that I could clean it up when I wanted to. But no, that is not the case. It was just simply delectable. Yum yum yum. I can't wait until tomorrow, so I can have it again!

Or why wait...maybe I'll just have a midnight snack.

Now I just have to come up with a name for this...

A Crimson Frost - Review

A Crimson Frost by Marcia Lynn McClure

My review

rating: 5 of 5 stars
A Crimson Frost is quite possibly Marcia Lynn McClure's best story in her whole collection. (Do not confuse this with Broderick being the best hero - I still hold a soft spot for Ryder and Ransom and Mason...)



Set back in the days of kings, queens and valiant knights, A Crimson Frost follows the Crimson Knight and Scarlet Princess as they discover their secreted love for one another while living in exile when war breaks out with a neighboring kingdom.



The style of writing is similar to Born for Thorton's Sake. Her characters are likeable. Not as witty as Ryder - but then, Ryder wasn't dealing with war and threats on the life of his love. There were parts that were a bit redundant - but easily enough played off.



I really enjoyed A Crimson Frost, and felt that it was 1000x better than The Time of Aspen Falls. A Crimson Frost stays true to the reason why I started reading Marcia Lynn McClure in the first place.


View all my reviews.

According to Roberta...

I think I like living with Roberta. She is good for the self-esteem.
In the past few weeks that Becca has been away, Roberta (who is Becca's Mother) has given me quite a list of compliments as we have gotten to know each other.

Apparently, I have stunning eyes.

And a fiery personality - but in a quiet way.

And, I'm cute (also beautiful, gorgeous and any number of other synonyms). And sometime - in the near future - some guy is going to snatch me up because I'm so sexy.

Yup, I think I'll stick around here.