Empathizing with Jo March

There's a scene in Little Women (the movie -- because I never did finish reading the book) when Amy throws Jo's manuscript in the fire out of spite. Jo is, obviously, incredibly upset, swears that she hates her sister, and after a violent outburst, she falls into her mother's arms and mourns the loss of all her hard work.

I can empathize.

I've been writing for years. (Before I knew about Dropbox.com, and before I used Google Docs - now called Drive.) Here and there, and with not much success, but I like it, and I like the storeis, and even if no one ever read another thing that I created, it wouldn't matter. I like my characters and my banter, and sometimes I get verbiose and I don't care, because I like that too. But last year, when my computer was on its dying days I bought a new one and set the old one aside, and continued writing. I thought I had removed all the files I needed, or in my mind, I thought I had enough of my old computer left in order to retrieve the files I wanted.

But the other day, when I checked my external harddrive, I noticed that there was a whole folder, supposedly filled with several different stories, missing. I wasn't worried. I was certain they were on the other harddrive. But when I checked that, they were missing from there as well. Again, I did not panic. I have a thumb drive that most certainly had the files I wanted... until, no. They weren't there either.

I still didn't worry, because this has all happened to me before. My computer crashed once during finals week, and all I did was pull out the harddrive and insert it into a casing and plug it into a new computer and WALAH! I had access to everything I needed.

I spent an evening dismantling my whole computer (unnecessarily, because they make harddrives incredibly easy to remove) and putting it into a casing and optimistically I plugged it into my computer.

Nothing.

You would think that this would be the time for me to panic, but no. It wasn't a big deal because my dad would be in town in a month, and surely there could be something done in order to retrieve the files. (Why weren't they on the external harddrives like I though!?)

But last night, my dad pronounced the harddrive dead.

Honestly, it wasn't a surprise, but it was a sting -- no, a blow -- that I had been putting off now for months. I am devastated. How easily years of work and toil and creativity can be wiped away without so much as a by your leave! I can't remember the last time I curled into a ball on my mother's lap and cried, but that I did.

Sure, there are expensive processes whereby the data may be accessed. But, if it is $500-800, who can really afford that?

I know how Jo feels. Instead of a spiteful sister, I have a vindictive harddrive. Instead of a fire, I have malfunctioning technology. And instead of having sisters who can help recreate the entirety of the story with all the best parts, I have... my own memory of how things go and no way to actually  recreate any of it.

Overhaul

A few people have commented on my absence of posts. But most people haven't. It's not that I haven't been blogging because I've lost readership, or anything like that... I've just been really busy overhauling my life.

In the past two months I've gotten a new job, moved to a new (bigger) city, and had my car totaled. So basically, I've changed just about everything I could change, and shed the life of the 18-year old girl that moved to Utah almost nine years ago.

NEW JOB

Everything changed when the offer of a new job in Salt Lake City. I applied only because I had a friend who was hired and casually mentioned to his wife that I should apply for a job at the same company. I put it off for over a month, but in a moment of determination to get out of my life's rut, I sent in my resume. Everything moved pretty fast from there. I interviewed, was offered the job, and gave my two weeks to the company I had worked at for three years.

There were lots of tears involved.

I loved working at KMA, and for Kevin, and I really liked what I was doing. Kevin told the guys upstairs that I was an "overachiever" because I was never content just being a secretary. Mostly everyone outside of work that I wasn't an overachiever at all. I felt like I had gone as far as I could go, and still, it was not an easy decision. When I sat down in front of Kevin to tell him I had been offered a new job, I bawled. When I got a text a few days later from him to counter the offer, I cried harder. I talked to my friends. I cried to my mom. My bishop.

And in the end, I made the decision to take the job and try a new adventure outside of Provo.

I'm still wondering what the hell I've done. (Sorry, Mom.) My new job is busy -- I've no time to play on Facebook or plan vacations I can't afford, or do any of the goofing off I did at KMA. And it's quiet. There aren't the shenanigans that would go on at KMA. And it's strict. This is a STRICT 8-5 gig; and sometimes it's 7-8. I can't just take off whenever I want, and long lunches are considered "vacation" if you are billing your hours honestly. I feel trapped and there's nothing creative about my job. My new company is very processed based. There's been a lot to learn.

My only comfort is that in the intro packet HR sent me, was the little advice that, "If you hate your job, just wait two years and it will be worth it."

NEW APARTMENT

I tried the commuting thing for a month and that's how I got my car totaled (see next section). It has been a painful process trying to readjust my sleeping schedule to something a little less co-ed and a little more mature adult. I hate it. And I'm tired all the time. I feel like a drug addict sitting at my desk, nodding off. Besides, the whole point of taking a new job, was so that I could get out of Provo and try my luck in Salt Lake City.

I looked for a new place everywhere... And didn't find anything that I really felt like I could live in. Until I walked into a little unit that just felt right. It felt like home. It was the only place that I could really see myself living in...and it was a little pricier than I wanted. So I tried to give it up, and kept coming back to this place.

I love it.

I love living by myself. I love the location. I have high hopes for the ward... I love that I have generous people in my life that have made it an easy transition by loaning me a queen sized bed, and helping me furnish the place with enough things to make it into a home. I. Love. It. If it turns out that I really can't afford to live like this, I will be devastated if I have to go back to a bunch of roommates.

Please bless that this place does not financially screw me over.

NEW CAR

For the record, I do not recommend getting into an accident. Especially on the freeway during morning rush hour traffic. And especially when it is your fourth day of work.

Don't for a second think that I was at fault. The accident could have been so much worse than it was, and I think it was because I was driving: with both hands on the wheel, no radio, my phone set down on the passenger seat, out of reach; in the slow lane (for goodness sake!) that made it so that when the guy decided to merge into my car and send me spinning, I ended up in one of the safest places I could have been, and sustained only body damage to the car. (And a touch of whiplash for my troubles.)

Whenever you see insurance company commercials, they always talk about how good they are about taking care of you, as their client. They never mention how they treat the person on the other end of the deal. In case you were wondering: crappy. They don't care that it was their policy holder's fault that you are now car-less, injured, and taking "vacation" at work in order to have your car valued at less than nothing, when before you were hit it was running just fine (never mind the fact that you might have just dropped $400 on new belts for your engine...). It's all very ridiculous. And I probably would recommend getting a lawyer, just because the insurance companies would probably take you more seriously.

That being said... I probably got more money for my car from the insurance than I would have been able to sell it for. And I got to keep the car (never mind that that scenario brings a whole lot more complications, since Louise was registered in Ohio). And I bought a car from my friends (same friends who got me this job) at a supreme discount with unbeatable payment plan.

So that's my life as of late. Next thing to do: Go through the temple. And now that I have A/C in my car, it's totally doable.

Life's Big Questions

I don't know why so many people get hung up on the BIG three questions that everyone seems to ask: Where did we come from? Why are we here? Where are we going?

After all, we have the general answers to these questions. God gave them to us. You can find them in messages from our prophet here on earth, and searching the scriptures.

No. Those aren't the big questions. The big questions are more like:

How in the world do we actually get into relationships? Not just romantic ones; though, certainly I mean those the most. But also friendships. How does it happen?

How do you decide on THE thing that you are supposed to be doing with your life? How do people come up with a career path?

And how/where in the world do you find the motivation, dedication, and discipline to completely change your life? Especially after you've been doing the same thing for so, so very long.

Secretary

The other day I was talking to a friend who had mentioned that she had a superior at her company encourage her to finish school because

No one goes to college to be a secretary.

We were discussing her career, so I know that it was nothing meant towards me that she brought it up. And it's probably true, no one really goes to college to be a secretary. You don't often have to. A lot of secretary and receptionist positions require little more than a high school degree.

That being said, when I have been job hunting in the past, there are plenty of "Office Manager" positions, "Executive Assistants", etc. that require, or prefer, applicants to have four-year degrees. But, regardless of desired education level, they all offer about the same amount of money when you are starting out.

No one goes to college to be a secretary.

I certainly didn't. Granted, I don't know what exactly I went to college to "be". I didn't want to be anything. I just really liked my classes. I had been told that as long as I had a degree, I could make money. And now I have a degree, and I have a steady paycheck, but I wouldn't exactly classify it as "money".

I didn't go to college to be a secretary. But that's where I have found work. That's where all my experience is. So if I tried to find another position, it would likely be as an administrative something. Technically, I am much more than a secretary at my job, but try telling that to anyone else. And it really isn't what I want to do with the rest of my life. I don't want to be 65 and a secretary. I don't want to be 35 and a secretary.

So now what?

That statement has negatively resonated in my head for nearly a week, and I'm no closer to deciding what I should do about it. Apparently, I went to college to be a secretary.

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)

Mindy Kaling has a book called Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns). I've read it. She's funny. But the title is honestly my favorite part, because I feel like it should/would be the title of my own autobiography.

The thing is, I have this problem. I'm a fairly jealous friend. I think part of it stems from my elementary school days, where I spent 95% of my time with one friend, and then in the 6th grade, I began to be edged out. It was fairly traumatizing, even though I feel like I tried to save face for many, many years after that. I remember having a conversation with her, where I put myself out on the line and told her that she was my very best friend.

She told me that I was not hers. Her best friend happened to be a cousin. Which was totally fine, but it still hurt. But that has set a sort of pattern in my life, where I think I've developed this really close relationship with someone, and then it turns out that I'm the lowest possible thing on their priority list, even though they are the highest on mine.

When my elementary school best friend started introducing new people into her social circle, they were other girls that I had little in common with. And since my best friend knew that, she used that as an excuse to stop inviting me to things. "I knew you wouldn't like [this activity]/[this person] so I knew you wouldn't want to come."

I spent most of junior high and high school with a couple of close friends, but largely felt that I didn't need to worry about friends at all because I was busy doing everything I could to get into BYU. I knew I would make friends in Provo, so what did I need large groups of friends in Troy, Ohio, for anyway? I think it was largely a coping mechanism; an excuse for spending my weekend nights babysitting instead of partying.

Still, there were the few times when I did go to a party or in a group of people and realized that most of these kids didn't know who I really was. They didn't care that I was there. And they wouldn't care if I weren't. I didn't like that feeling.

It took me years in Provo to finally make an actual GROUP of friends. People that I hung out with on a regular basis. People that wanted me to attend their group activities, seemed genuinely sad when I couldn't make it because of work or other obligations. People who loved me as I was and not who they expected me to be.

But then, as tends to happen in this stage of life, they started getting married, going to grad school, and moving around the globe. So I started picking up the pieces and finding a new group of friends. And for the most part, I feel like I have succeeded in making a group of friends that know me, and love me despite my flaws. But on occasion, and within a certain sector of this group of friends, there's that old feeling that for the most part, they could take me or leave me; and a lot of the times, they do. Leave me, I mean.

In my mind, I would rather not be included at all, then feel like each invite is some sort of charity thing or place filler. If I'm not wanted, then, I don't want to be there. I don't feel like that is a completely irrational thing. But I also don't want to hear about all the fun times I'm missing out on. It's not like you have this friend in Salt Lake that you hang out with, and then come back and tell me what you did. It's like, you have a group of what, I thought, were mutual friends, and you hang out and come back and talk about everything as if I were there, or should have been there, when I had no idea anything was going on in the first place.

I can only beg to be invited to certain activities for so long, before my pride gets in the way.

But it's fine. Because in a few more months, people will have left because they've graduated, or because they are getting married, or whatever. Because that is life in Provo. And I'll start searching for a new group of people to be friends with.

Deep Thoughts Between Friends

Aubrey: life is hard Shelli

  1st world problems are tough

  don't let anyone tell you differnt

4:51 PM me: Don't worry

  I won't

  life is hard

4:54 PM Aubrey: sigh

  i want something amazing to happen

  and its gonna take some work

  but I'm gonna make it happen

  i can't sit at a desk all my life

4:57 PM me: You can do it

   

Life isn't like a novel

  no matter how much I want it to be

  otherwise, it would be about this point in my life where my Mr. Right walks in a whisks me to my new life in Europe

  with loads of money

  or something

5:01 PM saying something witty

  Like, he stands up and someone says, "Gosh, do they make them any bigger?"
and he replies, "I'm big enough."

5:05 PM Aubrey: hahahahaha

  you are precious

5:07 PM me: (that line actually happened to my boss the other day)

  PROOF!

  sometimes life IS like a novel

 Aubrey: its a novel alright, but the author likes to throw in a lot of lulls

5:08 PM me: Also, are the lulls our fault? I mean...

 Aubrey: yes they are but i don't know to get rid of them all

 me: what if is one of those pick your own endings type

 and we are picking the wrong ones!

 Aubrey: hahaha

  that's it!

  that's the problem

  we're skipping to the wrong page each time

 me: Totally the problem

5:10 PM Aubrey: i keep going into the cave when I should have kept swimming, where the mermaid island was just around the corner

5:11 PM me: blast

  I don't even start swimming

  you mean you have to get off the beach to find adventure?!

 Aubrey: ha

  you'll be on a beach soon enough

 me: I was just hoping that the cabana boys provided the adventure for you!

5:12 PM Aubrey: oh cabana boys

  there are never enough of them

 me: haha

  and they are very often gay

  or tiny

  I don't really want a cabana boy

5:13 PM Aubrey: ha

  yeah

  i don't really want one either

  maybe we bought the wrong book

  i want one where we run into mountain men

 me: Oh, yes please!

  with beards

  and plaid

5:14 PM and burly arms

 Aubrey: where is the book with men with beards?!

 me: swoooooon

 Aubrey: ha

PS: Aubs, we do not have NEARLY ENOUGH pictures of us together.

Kisses

Tonight I was sitting on the couch with my new best friend, Daniel. We were watching Alice in Wonderland.

We were pretty much cuddling and he leaned over and kissed my cheek, and it made me laugh.

"Guess what a whistle kiss is," he said.

I told him to show me.

He closed his hand around his lips and made a sort of hooting/whistling sound and then kissed me again on the cheek.

I showed him how Eskimos kiss. And he taught me what, "neck kisses", "forehead kisses", and "train kisses" were. (Train kisses are very similar to whistle kisses, in case you were wondering.)

Daniel is three.

The Non-Committal Boyfriend

Non-committal guys are not likely to change very quickly so there is no point in waiting around. If he really loved you, he wouldn’t be so hesitant.

It's the advice that we give to any girlfriend who is stuck in a relationship that doesn't seem to be going anywhere. If he were going to marry her, he'd have proposed already, and so we tell her to give up and move on.

It's hard to give it up though. Will he commit if we were to give him just a little more time? Is there someone out there better, really? Maybe he is the love of her life, and she'll never find anyone else that she likes more?  He's perfect in every other way, does it matter if he really won't commit? Should we just settle for what we have?

The problem with having a non-committal boyfriend is that you are truly in love with the guy, despite the fact that he doesn't want to seal the deal. And you're prepared to wait. But for how long?

But at what point do you walk away? How much warning does he deserve? What if he has already made one step towards commitment, but just hasn't closed the gap that you want him to close? How do you know if this new suitor is the right one to leave for?

What if it's your job that is the "non-committal boyfriend"?

Just Call Me Pandora

I feel a little like Pandora.... and now I've got to deal with the consequences.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

I thought I could... But I can't

This is the blank post that will be a place holder for the time I sat down to write all my woes and didn't have the courage and/or security to do it. 

Some things aren't meant to be posted on the web for everyone to read. And sometimes, it's just too hard to put in to words. Besides, I haven't figured out which is worse: people asking, "What's wrong?" or not asking at all.

Sick of being sad?

Tonight's FHE was a fireside-type thing. Our old high councilman's wife spoke a little about her conversion story, and a lot about her childhood. She lost her mother to an illness at the age of 11, and by the age of 12 her alcoholic father committed suicide. She grew then moved in with a family that introduced her to the church, but seemed to not provide any actual love for her or her sister.

Through all of this, she is one of the happiest people I've ever encountered, and she said that it was because she decided one day, "I'm sick of being sad."

And that was it.

After that, no matter what life has thrown her way, she has sought to be as happy as she can be. And it's an important lesson that I think we need to remember. We can't choose some of the garbage we have to put up with. If we hate our lives... If we are living on zero sleep because of work, school and family drama... Whatever life throws our way, we have to remember that it is part of life and we have to continue to work our ways through it.

But we do not have to be sad.

Being sad is a choice. Granted, there are bouts of sadness. You are entitled to grief and mourning and loss for whatever reason. But you do not have to go day to day being sad, depressed and unhappy.

So if you are living your life sad, depressed and unhappy -- CHEER UP! Count your blessings. Find something that you enjoy. And know, that life is life. And some of us aren't blessed with abounding love and full bank accounts. We have to make do with what we have, and we have to remember that the Savior is there and the Atonement is real and covers all of those feelings.

Island in the Sun

Tonight I went up to Salt Lake to have a final dinner with my cousin Chloe, as she heads to Florida this weekend to begin a new adventure. I grabbed our friend Jared and we met at La Hacienda, a favorite Mexican restaurant in the area. Unfortunately for us, it was closed. Fortunately, though, Jared loomed outside long enough to talk to the owner who took pity on us and sent us to a closer La Hacienda in Draper, promising to call ahead and tell the manager that we were to get 50% off our meal.

The food was delicious -- as it always is -- and on our way back, watching the final glimpses of daylight disappear from the western horizon, my hair whipping across my face, Island in the Sun by Weezer started to play on the radio.

We were in a Jeep, and the top was off and the doors removed. It was hot, but not sweltering. The open road, open sky and the moon was available to be seen all around us. I wish I had the eloquence to describe the touch of teals and golds, and the perfectly shaped crescent moon, which looked larger than normal.

I was with people I care about, enjoying the weather, enjoying the view and loving the experience.

It was a pretty perfect moment.



And I really just love that song.

Practicing Adult

"I need to be better at going to bed on time. And getting to work on time. And I don't keep my room as clean as I should. And I definitely don't spend my money like I should. I'm not an adult."

"Yes, you are."

"Not a practicing one."

-Conversation between my roommate and me tonight.

Drawing Challenge Day #11

I don't know how they expect you to draw a "turning point", but as I really sat and thought about this, I realized that I haven't come to any type of turning point at all.

Everything has flowed pretty naturally, and there haven't been any abrupt changes or anything like that. I thought about drawing my drive to Utah, or something related to BYU or...

But none of it, though it has affected the way my life has turned out, has been an actual "turning point."

So, I guess I am still waiting for that thing in my life that stops me in my tracks and makes me go a complete different direction.

Ambition: Dead

Every once in a while I get this great spurt of ambition. I want to change everything about my life. Move somewhere exotic (like, Texas, or something), change jobs, buy a house, go back to school, pay off all my credit cards, travel, take up furniture building, painting, upholstery, quilting and clothes designing, on top of joining a gym/hiring a personal trainer, etc. etc. etc.

And then I get smacked in the face by reality (read: my bank account) and I realize that I will probably be treading water for some time before anything really amazing can happen. Because all of that takes money.

That's the thing about making money and then paying bills. It leaves absolutely nothing to be saved, and what extra pennies I do scrape by with, it will take years and years to actually pay for any of that. Because a bunch of saved pennies is not even enough to buy a bolt of fabric in order to do upholstery or quilting.

And then I get all restless and claustrophobic.... and end up sulking in my house.

At least tonight when I sulk, I'll be cleaning too.

At least? Yeah, cleaning is some sort of magic consolation prize. Woot.

Is anybody else thinking it's funny that I had this burst of ambition today, on 4/20? Seems ironic, some how.

Experience - Thanks, Twitter!

postsecret PostSecret

Today's Mail: "Finding a boyfriend is a lot like finding a job; No one wants you unless you have experience."

 

If this is true, then I'm screwed.

(and NOT literally)

Thanks, Twitter.

The Wanting

There are some things in life that no matter how badly you want it, you just aren't going to get it.

I feel like that list grows everyday. And the more I want it - no matter what it is - the more it hurts to know that I won't ever get it.

Well, I don't know if "hurts" is the right word. I guess it just depends on which thing I'm talking about. There are some things that you can still hold out hope for. Because life spins and turns in interesting ways sometimes, and there is no way to know for sure that you aren't going to get something until the day you die and you realize that you never did get that chance.

This is too vague.

For example. I want a tattoo. I never thought I did. When I was younger, I despised tattoos and thought they were disgusting and unnecessary. The thought of being an old woman and tatted up did not appeal to me. It still does not appeal to me. But that does not stop me from wanting one. Just one. I've heard that it is addictive, and I can see how it might be - but I just want ONE. A little flock of birds right behind my ear. Wouldn't that be awesome? Eh... Those of you who aren't in to tattoos wouldn't think it was awesome. But I have definitely changed my tune with regards to tattoos. I still don't think it is very classy to be so tatted up you can't look professional. I hate tramp stamps and ugly cartoon characters. I think pin-ups and other dirty tattoos are gross. Tribal tattoos are overdone. I like the innovative, creative ones that are real pieces of art. They'll still look ridiculous when the people are old. But... that's the beauty of the one I want - it can be covered by just wearing my hair down! Brilliant.

Of course, all the wanting in the world is never going to get me into a tattoo parlor. Because, in the end, I am sticking to my guns about what I was asked to do. Treat my body with respect and as a temple, and going with the advice of the church to stay away from gratuitous piercings (I would love to have my ears double pierced and another one up the side of my ear...) and tattoos. In the end, I know I have not lost anything and I do believe that blessings come from obedience. It doesn't keep me from wanting, though.

I want - really, really want a husband and a family. Of course I do! It isn't a secret and it isn't uncommon. At the age of 25, I was certain that I would have a couple of kids by now, but fine. I don't. But that doesn't keep me from wanting it. Now, this want is hugely different from wanting a tattoo. First, it is sanctioned by the Church. :) Second, there's no way to know whether or not it will happen. Whenever you talk to someone getting married, they always say, "I had just given up on the idea [dating, boys, marriage, etc.] entirely..." There's always the hope that tomorrow will bring the man of your dreams, or that the guy that you just met last night, might propose in three months (that's right, this is Utah...we move fast here)... or six months or a year. You don't know. That friend you met two years ago, could turn into a romantic interest at the drop of a hat. You don't know! There's no way to know. And I think that killing the hope that it will happen is practically impossible. Because even if you think you've lost all hope and you are ready to buy your cat and picked out her name - Emily Dickinson! (Or pet pigs, in my case: Elinor and Finnick) - you usually can scrounge up just enough hope the next time your stomach flip-flops because he smiles at you.

And then there's traveling. Which, the more I think about it and try to make it happen, the more I realize that it is more like the tattoo than the husband. It seems as though it is going to be impossible to get me out of this country. Sure, I can find enough money to go to New York. Or to go home, every once in a while. But as far as going to Scotland, or Italy or even Mexico... I just...don't see how I will ever make it. I have my passport. I even have a place to stay if every I could make it to Scotland! But I don't think I'll ever have the money. I'll get a little chunk (maybe $300) and all of a sudden my car will need new brakes, I get bronchitis or SOMETHING happens and I have to transfer the measly amount back into my checking account. When you're living paycheck to paycheck, traveling to a foreign country is impossible. And I don't care what all you master budgeters think, if you are living paycheck to paycheck, there's nothing left to put away into savings. And yeah, maybe, I could put put $20 away, and get myself to Scotland in the year 2030. But it is just disheartening. I wish I could just give up the whole idea of traveling. There are people out there that have no interest in seeing the world. They have no interest in leaving their home state! (I don't get it. But sometimes I wish I could be like them.) It'd certainly be a much simpler life. And yet, every time I get that $300 in my savings account, I think that I might be well on my way to getting a stamp on my passport and that little bit of hope flares up.

But sometimes that hope is more devastating than recognizing the truth.

Where's My Consolation Prize

We all have them.

Days where we are unfulfilled, dissatisfied and maybe a little confused as to where our lives are or are going. When we think, "I'm more than this." Or, "I want more than this."

It's weird to sit and watch people who are famous just for being famous, and not because they have talent. And yet, there they are, traveling the world, meeting glamorous people who actually are talented and spending money to their heart's content.

It's humbling to see others whose names are out in the world because they are making such a tremendous impact on the world. Through new policies or new inventions. By fighting for a cause and taking a stand against that which is wrong in our world.

And then there's me. Us. Those of us who live ordinary lives. We wake up, get ready for the day, drive to work, work - for eight, ten, twelve hours a day - maybe squeeze in a little time with family, spouses or roommates, and then go to bed in order to start all over again.

Of course, some of us live more ordinary lives than others. When talking to some friends about this feeling of living such a "small life", one of them made the comment:
 I feel like that too, and then I have to punch myself in the face and say, "just be glad you have a job, and it allows you do to do cool things and have a house."

I've been going back and forth all day, going over that comment over and over and over. Because, on the one hand, I am very grateful for my job. I've been very blessed this past year. I've done cool things. I went to Florida. I went to New York City. I went home a few times. I've been able to pay all of my bills. And buy new tires and brake lines for my car when necessary.

But on the other hand, I'm not really doing "cool things." And I'm definitely not doing the cool things I want to be doing. Like my friend, whose "cool things" almost certainly involve her travels around the world. I'm not closer to having a house. Or even, a living arrangement that I really want.  Like, being away from BYU housing and a house-full of girls.

I'm still in debt. And probably will be for the very least, the next three years (that isn't including paying back school loans), but that's only if something disastrous doesn't come my way - car, health, etc. - and I cut my spending to the bare - barer - essentials. 

I feel like as a 25-year old, that's single, I should be full of show-cased talent; I should be traveling the world and meeting new, awesome people. Basically, I should be having the time of my life. But instead, I'm living this: wake up, go to work, scrape by, pretend to have fun, go to sleep; repeat, mode. And I'm stuck because, while graduated, I'm not really qualified for more than the office work I am already doing. I can't afford to go to grad school and become a teacher like I am seriously contemplating doing. And I don't want to be in Provo anymore! But I'm too terrified and too clueless on how to get out.

The world is a scary place. And really, I don't know how the people who live in the spotlight do it. I don't want to live some anonymous life, but I don't envy having the camera in every intimate - and not-so-very-exciting - detail. So where do you go to find the balance? How do you escape this feeling of "smallness"?

I don't honestly have the answer. I keep thinking about how the answer in Church is always to go out and serve. It seems like any time you are afflicted with self-.... anything, you're counseled to step outside of yourself and help others. I don't know if that is really the answer. It seems like more of a distraction from the problem and not really a solution.

Corporate Dentist

These are not my teeth.

I went to the dentist today. Groupon.com had a deal a while back that offered an exam, whitening and full set of x-rays for $50, and at that point, I wasn't as strapped for cash as I am now, so I got it. Besides, I haven't been to the dentist in a while, so I really wanted to make sure my teeth were good and healthy.

It was busy when I arrived at 3:58 p.m. (my appointment was scheduled for 4:10 p.m. - so you know what that means? Even though I: left my office later than I planned, stopped at the structural engineer's office AND my apartment; then Garmin told me the wrong direction and I had to make a couple of U-turns to find myself at a dead end and NOT the dentist... after all of that - I was on time, early even. And I already had the new patient paperwork filled out...) and waited until 4:30 p.m. until the... I don't know what her title is, but I will call her the Pusher. She came and walked me around the building, giving me a tour of the place and then turning me over to x-rays.

After full mouth x-rays, density checking and then the exam... I found out that I have, "beautiful, healthy teeth" and two baby cavities. Great.

I paid for the cleaning, which was not included in the groupon, and then was escorted back to the Pusher's office, where we could figure out a way for me to pay to have my cavities filled and to get my whitening trays.

Overall, the office was very friendly, but had a very corporate feel to me. I couldn't get over the fact that I felt like they were trying to take my money. There were SO many people there, it sort of made me anxious. And the fact that the Pusher and several other people were walking around with headsets, made it feel all the more "corporate." On the other hand, my hygienist rushed to make the trays so that I didn't have to come back for them, and could start the regimen early. And they have some of the coolest and latest technology in the dental field. X-rays have gone digital, and I got to look at the x-rays and see what the dentist was examining as he pulled them up on screen and looked at each tooth. The chairs were comfortable.

They set me up with a payment plan so that I could get my cavities filled and pay just a little bit a month with no interest for a year. Just what I need - another monthly payment. And I have a feeling that the Pusher is going to try and get me to put sealants on all of my teeth. Which is all great and well, except I think she said they were $30 a tooth...which I most definitely cannot afford. But, whatever, my teeth are healthy and will soon be cavity free once again.

I haven't had a cavity since I was seven years old (or something like that) and I don't remember what it's like... I hope it isn't too bad. *Shudder*

Oh, and they didn't give me my cookie (which was supposed to be included with the groupon.)

New Glasses

If you see me walking around in a pair of glasses like this, please don't make fun. I went to the optometrist yesterday and my prescription had increased from a -4.0 to a -5.0 in one eye and a -4.25 in the other. This is no beuno. Since I didn't even have enough money to buy contacts, but had to, I did not purchase a new pair of glasses.And boy am I glad that I didn't.

Glasses are expensive.

With frames going anywhere from $80 - $300 and the good lenses costing some $150 - $250, you'd go broke just trying to pair up a quality, stylish pair. So I'll probably end up with the thick pink/purple, plastic frames that they sell at WalMart for $18.

Oh, boy.