Everything

Line of the Night: "Not enough for me? You are everything."--Jim to Pam

Watching The Office isn't supposed to make me cry.

Just Sayin'

 You should have kissed me / You should have pushed me up against the wall / You should have kissed me / I was right on the edge and ready to fall

The Ancient Maiden's Lament

I have a mouth for kisses / No one to give or to take / I have a heart in my bosom / Beating for nobody's sake.

-- The Literature of Kissing as printed in A Compendium of Kisses: Facts, Quotes and Curiosities by Lana Citron, p. 72

 

Kissed Often

You should be kissed and often; and by someone who knows how.

Rhett Butler - Gone With the Wind (movie)

The Horndar

A comprehensive analysis of the straight LDS Single's Horndar


Etymology: Horndar comes from the combination of two words. Horny meaning filled with lust (roughly); and radar an instrument used as a measuring tool or detection system.

The Horndar is similar to the terror alert levels.

Green - Low - The Single is not thinking about the opposite sex. They enjoy the company of their friends without worrying about who they can hook up with. They are open to relationships, but do not obsess with obtaining one. They are often blind to the attractive boy/girl sitting next to them. We're talking Beehive/Deacon levels here, people.

Blue - Guarded - A single living in the blue levels are the ones that are OK with the idea of saving their first kiss for the altar. They like the opposite sex. They're open to a peck on the cheek for a 3-second kiss on the lips, but only after a lengthier courtship. They want commitment with their affection. They like romance movies and books of the Jane Austen/Charlotte Bronte style, or of the Disney variety.

Yellow - Elevated - Yellow levels are generally looking for their make-out sessions within a relationship. Therefore, they are seeking out a relationship. You can catch them daydreaming about chaste kisses outside the apartment door and enjoying the latest RomCom.

Orange - High - Orange is a seemingly dangerous level. It is quite the jump from yellow to orange, because in the orange levels, NCMO's, necking and petting... things that we are supposed to avoid are open to us all in the name of romance. So what if you haven't talked to him/her in the past 6 months. If it means a little action, you're willing to risk it. Innuendo is high. You find yourself looking up your favorite make-out scenes from PG-13 movies or picking up trashy romance novels from the library. Orange levels are also exciting, because they involve the push-against-the-wall, tug-on-your-hair type making out. Trouble can find you if you are not careful.

Red - Severe - This is the most dangerous level. If you were married, it might be the most fun. But you aren't married. SO make sure you steer clear of all members of the opposite sex. This is when trouble brews for certain and will probably land you in the Bishop's office.

Which level are you?

Swooooooooon

Further Comments on the Poll

I think Aubrey said it best:

Every woman wants to be thrown up against the wall  - but like everything it has to be done right.

Because every woman wants to be kissed, but not by a slobbering idiot.

(emphasis added)

The Poll: Is it better against a wall?

By "it" I guess I have to clarify as: a kiss, kissing... not actually................ ANYWAY.

This is when statistics could be considered "fun." (I know. I know. My fingers are bleeding because I typed that. In fact, I'm feeling light-headed. I might puke. Must...go...on...despite the hypocrisy. The irony. Oh sick....) A question was posed to over 50 people today asking the following: "Being pushed against the wall while making out - is it good or bad?"

It seemed the majority of the girls I polled had only two answers: "Good!" or "Good! as long as it isn't too rough."
The guys had a bit more varied opinion on the matter.

Out of the 41 people that responded, only 8 (4 girls and 4 boys) replied in some form or another that being pushed against the wall was negative. I know that 3 of the 9 have never experienced it - and to them I say, don't knock it until you try it. OK? The rest had a myriad of answers that I didn't know how to interpret:

"[It's] dangerous. You could bump your head and get a concussion and then not remember making out. Very bad. Unless your partner is disgusting. Then it's good. But also dangerous."

"Bad...kind of shady because it is too aggressive. Save it for the romance novels."

"...No. I think it could be a good way to get some mace in the face and be jailed in disgrace."

"Um. Slightly creepy. Is he on roids?"

And then of course the whole... "It's too controlling..." Which, I don't like that answer, but it was a favorite among most of the other NOs.

However, the rest of the group liked the fact that the guy was taking control, showing a little aggression or the general...excitement of the whole thing. And a few people added the whole, "It depends..." note. Depending on the type of wall, how rough the actual shove was and even how passionate the kiss.

My favorite response to the pros: "Good. Best when it comes from a guy you never thought would." Either that or, "So so good."

Now, the chart that I created to display this data actually happens to be what we are studying in Stats right now, but of course, that just means that I don't know what to do with it.

 

It's a double bivariate table or something - two categorical data categories (if you are vomiting while reading me spat stats out like this, don't worry - so am I.)

So class, what does this teach us? The whole poll started because I seemed to be outnumbered. The two people that were arguing with me were very against the whole thing and I knew that if I took it to the masses, we would have the majority.

I can't remember a time before I knew that I liked it. There's always been something a little thrilling and exciting about the whole idea. For a long time I had nothing to go on besides MLM books and movies where actors are in the throes of passion and it is a little too much. I had a roommate who went over to ex-boyfriend's house and didn't end up leaving until a lot later than planned because he decided to take control of the situation. And we decided that it probably wasn't a great idea for her to go over there again.

There's just something GOOD about being thrown against the wall. Even MLM says so, "Shelli! Oh, my heck! I'm TOTALLY for "pushed up against a wall" kissing! Totally..."

And who could possible dispute that? Poll closed.

Death of an Era

Some three years ago I started reading an author that I quickly became obsessed with. I had been introduced by my aunt who asked, "Do you like sappy - I mean, really sappy - as in, I'm almost embarrassed to give this to you, sappy?"

YES.

That was always my answer. Because I love sap. I love cheesy. I love romance! As long as it was a happily ever after, I was happy. I signed up for this author's updates and promptly ordered the books I had read. Every time I visited my aunt, I devoured as many of the books as I could - and then bought those as well. Soon, I had read everything this author had put out. I was still craving more.

I introduced everyone I thought could stomach the sappiness to these books. And then tried to discuss them - as if we were reading some poignant plot points or fabulous symbolism.

The truth was - I knew the writing wasn't the most fabulous I've ever encountered. And I figured this author self-published. There were too many typos for there to be a real editor on board. But I didn't care. I liked the stories. And I didn't care that the heroes were always the same. Everyone always seemed so self-conscious (lack of confidence is a very real problem in relationships, after all).

As different friends read these books, I was introduced to new perspectives. I started reading other romances. I stopped reading other romances. I was still devoted to this author. And then there started a decline. I don't know if it was because I was outgrowing sappy, or if I finally recognized that I shouldn't be reading such mediocre writing. Still, I clung on. I continued reading the books. And then I read one that I was impressed with. Surely this meant that they were going to continue to get better. But it was just a small hill on a slippery slope down.

I've given up. I've ordered my final book - and I won't be reading any more of this author. I am removing myself from the update list. I am ending my relationship with this author. I just can't take it anymore. I don't know what has happened. But I suspect that the writing has gotten worse. I will read those few that I truly loved and see whether or not it is me or the author. But regardless of the findings - we're through.

It's been a good run. I truly did like those first few that set off a fever. But I can't let this continue. I think this quote probably shows exactly why...

Ridge smiled—his strength suddenly rejuvenated for the sake of his loving want.
Gently—yet boldly—he aggressed—taking Ember in his arms—shifting his weight so
that he hovered over her dominantly.
Embers smiled—weaving her fingers through Ridge’s soft, dark hair.
“I love you, my pretty mermaid,” he breathed a moment before his mouth
demanded hers respond to him.
“I love you,” Ember breathed between impassioned kisses, “my beloved treasure
of the sea.”
And the tide’s soft caress kissed the moonlit shore…

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.

Good advice...

I was hanging out with friends with weekend and was given some good advice that I wanted to record before I forgot it.

1. It is easy to fall in love. But it is hard to remain in love. It takes work, devotion and respect.
2. Sometimes you find the right person, but it's the wrong time. There aren't necessarily soul mates - you could probably marry anyone and it work out OK as long as you are doing it at the right time. A marriage is like a yoke, and you can't have one person remain stubbornly in one spot while the other is trying to move forward. So if he/she isn't ready, then you aren't going to go anywhere.
3. You can't expect that a partner is going to change you for the better. What if they haven't developed that particular goal or trait? You have to do the things that you expect of the other person long before they can ever help you. No person is going to change your bad habits or cultivate your talents - that is your job.

In a completely unrelated note: Boise is more dangerous than I thought it was. For a moment I thought I was in Vegas. What with all the drag queens, exposed breasts and drinking, the only thing that reminded me where I was, was the lack of casinos and warmer weather.

Observations

One of the points of writing a blog is to allow people to get to know you. Things that the reader may never learn with basic interaction can be unfolded through a small posting at 2:21 a.m., and really, I think it is the most fun this way.

As I traverse through this life of mine, I am prone to introspect and learn things about myself, that I don't think others would know unless I really told them. Some of the more embarrassing discoveries, I'll keep to myself...for now, and others, I will share.

1. I fall to sleep with my hands by my face. I don't know when this started. I can't remember having always done it, but I was watching a movie or something and some incredibly untalented actor pulled her hands to her face - resting just under the cheek that lay on the pillow, and I thought...no one sleeps like that. Untrue. I sleep like that. In fact, I wake up with my hands uncomfortable swollen and asleep because they have been smashed by my face. It's most comfortable for falling asleep (especially when my fingers are a bit cold, the coolness feels marvelous on my cheeks) and most uncomfortable when I awake. I continue to do it, regardless.
2. I absolutely abhor getting ready for bed. It's why I'm still awake at this hour. If I could just crawl into my bed, sans brushing my teeth, wrestling with the decision to don the retainers or not, washing my fact, etc. etc. I would. But as it is, I have several things before actually retiring that must be done, and I am avoiding them. I've been a procrastinator my whole life - I don't see why my bedtime routine would be any different. (I know, Dad, it's retarded. Really. I do, understand...)
3. My life plan changes almost daily. Have we had this discussion before? I'm sure we have. Currently, I am set to graduate after spring term with a B.S. (this is ironic to me, as I have always prided myself in being able to spout all sorts of BS for essays, papers, etc.) of Geography in global studies. However, since I will not be attending grad school (at least not with the current life plan), it is very difficult to say what I will be doing next. Perhaps I will attempt to get a job at an airport, so I may fly for free. This is a brilliant idea. And then I want to attend nursing school so that I would work as a labor and delivery nurse. I think that would be marvelous. And then, I have thought that perhaps I would like to go to hair school. I think being able to do hair is quite a talent and skill that I just HAVE to have. Can you imagine the benefit of being able to do your daughters' hair without forking out $80 every time? Plus, you meet friends at school who are able to do your own hair, or at least, you learn how to do it so you can do it yourself. I have a hairstylist, and she is fantastic. However, she is in Michigan; and I don't know that we'll ever live in the same state again. It would certainly be convenient if I had someone else I trusted to do my hair. Besides, wouldn't it be great if I could figure out what to do for Mackenzie's hair? I think so. After that, maybe I'll get married. I've always thought I'd be married by now. Of course, I never wanted to admit that I was one of those girls that would get married at 18 or 19 and begin popping out babies. That wasn't really the reason I came to BYU. But...actually... I could have just been lying to myself. It has been noted, that I have been quite ready (or at least in my head have been) to be married since I was 16 or something. I quite fancied myself to be in love with Elder Jensen, and had he not had a girlfriend waiting for him when he got back, I think we could have married. HA! Well, in my head we could have.
   
4. I absolutely detest a filthy bathroom and a messy kitchen. However, I thrive on the clutter in my room. I don't know what it is. I like not folding my laundry and not putting it away. I detest laundry. I only do it because I LOVE the smell of clean clothes, and frankly, because it is gross not to. Really. Clutter does not bother me, though. And I can not - for the life of me - understand how someone who loathes clutter can tolerate a spotty faucet, footprints in the bathtub, or crumbs on the kitchen counter. It is beyond fathomability. (Obviously not a word, but I think I like it...)
5. It doesn't take a lot to gain my admiration. I'm really quite conceited (something I never realized until just now.) I. Am. Conceited. Hmmm... imagine that. I am incredibly self conscious, and often possess a low self-esteem. But I like when people talk to me, and more importantly about me. I don't own a lot of life experiences, or grand stories. I am not often witty and funny, and only know very minor details on things that would be considered intelligent conversations. However, I like to talk about myself. Much more, I like when people show an interest in me. I realize that this is basically innate. But some people like it more than others, and I think that if anyone wants to win my affections, they merely need to take the time to ask about me sincerely. Case and point, my roommate's boyfriend. He has made it a point to question me about a certain guy I like. Not every time I see him, but often enough to check the status and recent developments to show that he cares what is going on in my life. My old bishop remembered that I had had a bishop that didn't remember my name, ever, and so he would go out of his way to make sure I knew that he knew who I was. I was thrilled. The Mexican guy we delivered Christmas presents to last night, tried so hard to include me in the conversation by speaking English, even though he COULDN'T (I had to mentally turn on my brain to try and understand what he was saying) and I was so completely touched by his sensitivity. And, this conceit is the only thing that allows my crushes to linger for longer than a fleeting second.
6. I am a romantic. I know you all know this. I have made absolutely no attempt to cover it up. I try to balance my...sheesh, is there even a word for it? I try to balance my wild immagination and heart's desires with practicality and a more realistic sense of what life is about - what love and marriage and companionship is about. I try. And there is a side of me that knows. I know. I know that life and marriage and having a family and love is complicated and hard, and work. I know that things are not perfect. And life is not magically transformed when you meet the person you are going to marry, or when you marry said person. I know that people don't really feel their bones dissolve with a simple kiss, or quite literally feel butterflies for the rest of their life. I don't even think that there is such thing that getting carried away with some passionate moment... I mean, it sounds so cliche. But still, I can't help but hope... but think... one day. It has to happen for me. Right? That's why it is taking so long. And by so long, I mean that of course, why it hasn't happened by the time I turned 19. After all, I'm sure that my soon-to-be 16-year old brother has had more experience with girlfriends than I have with boyfriends. (Not something I should admit to cyberspace, on a blog read by my parents and grandparents...but I can't help it. You have to feel a bit of pity for a 23-year old girl duped by her much younger brother, right?) And so... it has to happen. One day, I am going to be blissfully happy with some man (a REAL man) that turns my knees to jell-o. And if you don't believe that, keep you opinions to yourself. I can't think otherwise. Not yet. Maybe if I'm 40 and unmarried, I contemplate thinking something differently. Until then...
7. Church starts a half hour later tomorrow than normal. I am not sure how this half hour change is going to make all the difference as I am now going to bed at a much later hour than I ever should contemplate before attending church. I shall retire immediately...that is, after I've brushed my teeth, convinced myself NOT to pick my face despite its looking like that of a leper, wrestled with the decision to wear my retainers (I think not) and washed my face, etc. etc.
   

Consequences

I LOVE reading. Love love love love love it. In fact, I love it so much that I can spend an entire day doing nothing but. Sometimes I love it so much that I don't even have to be reading any particular book, but just a compilation of excerpts from a certain author. Blowing 2 to 10 hours means nothing to me if I am divulging in a good book. It's why I've created the rule that I am not to be reading leisurely whilst in school. (Not that it stops me... but sometimes.)

However, spending time during the Regency era, or on a ranch filled with muscly cowboys, or even, hanging out with vampires - all comes with dire consequences. You see, each time I open a book I am absorbed into the world that the author has created. I am completely withdrawn from reality, and then, when I am finished, the re-entrance into my life is harsh and painful.

You see, I am the Harriet of Emma or maybe even Charlotte in Pride and Prejudice. Well, maybe not Charlotte. I am very much like Marianne Dashwood (see here) but without Mr. Willoughby and Colonel Brandon vying for my hand. The point is - I am not the leading character. I am surrounded by beautiful, intelligent, athletic girls that get noticed all of the time. Sure, they have their own boy troubles to deal with. But they can also walk into a room and have at least two guys by their sides, seeking their attention.

I'm not saying that I'm not pretty. Because, really... I know that I'm not a dog. Or animalistic-looking whatsoever. I have "body type" issues. But even still, I feel that does not constitute my being shunned from the male population. And yet, I know that I am never going to be one of those girls that men just pine after. That's OK.

But this is where the problems come into play. It is widely known and accepted that I am of the romance-reading type. [There is very little else I spend my time on...which, I know is not something that I should advertise. And I don't. Whenever I go to the library or Seagull books (where I find MLM) I am very quick about my selection and then scamper away as quickly as possible.] Anyway, it's just that...when I emerge from my books, after the guy has gotten the girl; after the epilogue where they have lived happily ever after, and she still melts at his touch and he still craves to hold her in his arms - I realize, I am not ever going to be that girl. And that's depressing to me.

I DO realize that no guy, no man, has really gotten lost in his wife's eyes, or caught his breath because of the way she walked down a set of stairs. There are few girls who, when they are in the arms of their love, sigh in contentment and have knees the consistency of jell-o. These are things written by very corny authors who live the dream in their heads. But while you're reading, it's nice to think that men are actually gentlemen and have a sort of code they must follow. Sure, they play the devil seducer and whisk the lady away for a private rendezvous, but they always stop or leave just in time! How luxurious, how romantic! And how non-existent.

How sad.

So, re-emerging from my dream-state, I have to remind myself that no matter how unpopular the girl was in the book (and I often compare myself to those types, the Cinderella or Ugly Duckling types...the ones that aren't expected to get the guy and then almost always do) and even though she got the guy, it doesn't matter. It doesn't mean that I will. And it definitely won't be like that. No guy is going to look at me for the first time, feel the floor fall from under his feet and then pursue. I'm almost 100% convinced that I will have to be friends with my eventual husband for 5-10 years before he's says, "Oh, hey! We've been friends for like, 10 years, why not?" Which is so completely the opposite of romantic, that it's bound to happen that way.

Anyway, the main consequence is a pity party. And I have to remind myself that I am pretty, I do have personality, and I will get married...eventually. It is also nice to hear it from someone else. Which is why I call my dad. Even if I do have to fish for compliments, to hear that I am pretty or that I have reason to hope is always the main objective.

In the end, I know what's important in life. I know that Heavenly Father is looking out for me. And I know that my family loves me.

Pity Party's over... ok, 5 more minutes.