Figuring out what to do with my life!

I still haven't heard anything on grad school, but I'm having the feeling that it's not going to happen. Pending that, I've been looking into going back to school for a second bachelor's degree, in Social Work. A lot of thought is going into this decision. But in order to progress into a career that I will enjoy and in which I can actually find fulfillment, I have to get a degree in this field. Additionally, it will be easier to get into the Master's program with a Bachelor's degree in the field. I applied anyway, but it was a long shot. I can get work with a Bachelor's degree, but if I do decide I want a Master's, it will be easier to get into the program this way.

I've been looking into financial aid to start at UVU this fall. I found out today that since I have a bachelor's degree, they will WAIVE all the general education classes. This is a HUGE relief! As long as everything falls together properly, I would be able to graduate (again) in 2 years. Not too bad, eh?

I haven't made a final decision. A lot depends on whether I can get enough financial aid to get through school. But I have realized that I can continue on as I have been, in a job that I merely tolerate, or I can put in the time to get into a career that I will truly enjoy. Bear with me, dear friends, as I get everything figured out over the coming months. But I think I will be the better for it.

Good News Bad News

The Good News?

• I had an AWESOME birthday, thanks to my many friends, family, roommates and coworkers who made it special. {I LOVE ICE CREAM}
• I'm almost done with my grad school application! Hoping to submit soon.
• I finally got to see the Ensign article where I'm quoted. AND I just did a phone interview with The Daily Herald. I'm famous! {The Ensign article was not as exciting as everybody made it out to be. I'm quoted once, and it's way in the back. Not really that cool}
• Looking forward to going out with a certain young man again this weekend. =)

The Bad News...

• I am REALLY tired today {a combo of the late night and coming to work early today}, and my shoulder REALLY hurts {thanks to rolls, grabs, throws and breakfast last night in black belt class}.
• I still haven't written the Liberal Arts Statement for my grad school application. I honestly can't figure out what to say.
• My black belt report is due in 6 days, and I can't find any good sources. {I'm supposed to write on the purpose and meaning of forms, and what they teach us. Any ideas???}

Check out the Domestic Dork for more bloggy goodness!

The Day of Birth

Yes, today is the day. Today I am one year older. They say I'm supposed to be wiser too, but I think that's up for speculation. =)

I had a GREAT weekend, pre-celebration for my birthday. My bestest best friend Melissa came down from Ogden to spend the weekend with me, which I appreciated muchos, because there were many other fun things she could have been doing instead. On Friday night, we partied with our dear Gregorio in anticipation of HIS departure to grad school next week. We had a great time at his house with swimming, homemade ice cream, and Rock Band!

It is a show of how much my Liss loves me, that on Saturday morning she attended my great-grandmother's funeral with me. My grandma lived with my family for 10 years, right during my teenagehood. She was one of my dearest friends, and certainly one of my earliest artistic inspirations. I played Jon Schmidt's "Funeral Hymn" at the service. I saw some relatives I haven't seen in ages. You know what brings family together--weddings and funerals.

But Saturday evening was the real treat, and my birthday present from my parents. The parentals, Liss and I went to Thanksgiving Point for a Jon Schmidt concert! If you're unfamiliar with Jon Schmidt, check out his website. He's my favorite pianist and composer. And he's a HYSTERICAL entertainer. His concert was so enjoyable! And it was celebrating the release of his new album, "Bonus Tracks", which my dear wonderful parents also bought for me at the concert. So much fun music! I loved it.

On Sunday we relaxed. I relax seldom enough that I appreciate every opportunity. We had church, we had dinner, we watched "The Devil Wears Prada", and then we just chilled and chatted. It was great!

Errands (but fun ones) were Monday's agenda. Grocery shopping, gas, a quick but fun visit to Barnes & Noble for a bday gift from MOI, over to Wally World for a pinata to smash at my party tonight, and over to the Thai Village for some yummy curry! I tried the Pumpkin Curry, and actually I REALLY enjoyed it. Tastilicious!

The only bad part of the whole weekend was saying goodbye to my best friend. I struggle! I wish we lived closer together. Alas!

Tonight, it's TKD and then a party at my house with the aforementioned pinata. I'm so excited! Hopefully it's going to be a GREAT birthday, despite my onset of ancientness. =)

Today I feel ancient...and kind of morose about it.

One week from today, I will turn 23 years of age.

I'm sorry to ye elder readers, but 23 feels old. It's a sign of my culture, but many of the women I know who are my age, are married. With children. That's what you get living in Utah County, I suppose, but it still makes me feel somewhat old-maidish.

On the one hand, it's nice to feel like an adult, regardless of my single state. I'm just a "twenty-something," as dear Gregorio would say. Being 23 and single has limitless possibilities (if I were interested in pursuing them).

On the other hand, I don't much care for adult concerns. Insurance, career choices, responsibilities that I still do not feel prepared to deal with. The pains of old age, my friends.

I'm not sure yet what I'll be doing for my birthday. I have the misfortune to share my birthday with Labor Day weekend most years, so people usually have plans that do not coincide with celebrating with me. And other things have come up--other parties, funerals, work--so I don't know when or if I'll actually be having a party. Yet another symptom of old age--when your birthday just doesn't matter anymore! =)

House ownership part II: House hunting

Tonight was my first experience in house hunting. And I will tell you now that this is likely to be a long and drawn out process.

We looked at two houses, and in just those two houses I came to the realization that houses are quirky and that house owners are quirkier. I actually really liked the first house. There are a lot of things that would need to change, but most of them are small. A fresh coat of neutral-colored paint would do wonders for--I kid you not--every room in the house. Maybe not the kitchen. The kitchen and other main rooms were by far my favorite part. LOVED them. Big, open and spacious rooms. The bedrooms were also large, though two of them were kind of awkward, and we weren't really sure whether they were originally meant to be bedrooms. But they were big!

The biggest problem in the house were the bathrooms. There were two, and they were very dated. Who decorates in pink? I mean really. And there were some "special" things that, in perhaps ten years and with lots of money, I would be able to fix.

But overall, I really liked that house. LOVED the main rooms. I really like the location, I like the yard, I like the three-car garage, I like the patio and the covered deck and porch, and I'm enchanted by the mailbox.

The second house was not so exciting. First of all, it was about three steps away from my parents house. I love them, but I don't want to spend the next x-# of years in their backyard. Need a little breathing space, if you know what I mean. (Just a couple of blocks, really, I'm not too picky.) It was a big house, but there were a lot of weird things. Weird decor, weird carpet, weird cabinet handles, really weird yard fixtures, and the bathrooms were all really small. AND...the basement was unfinished. PUH-LEAZE I don't need that kind of headache right now. So, drove away from that house with a No, thank you!

On a related note, I filled out loan paperwork tonight, and THAT was an adventure. I feel so inadequate! My dad reassures me that the bank LIKES boring, they want to see that I pay my bills (which I do), but I looked at my pitiful list of assets and my meager income and I thought, "they're going to think this is a joke". But off it goes to the bank tomorrow, to see what I can get pre-approved for. And then we go from there.

In the meantime, I want to look at more houses. I'm in no hurry, certainly, and looking at more places will give me a better idea of what I'm looking for. But I'll tell you--I'm sitting in a mixture of utterly freaked out and terrified, and hopelessly excited. I had a dream last night about having my whole singles ward in my house for a house warming party, so I take that as a good sign. =)

Home ownership

AH!

So, I was talking to my dad on Sunday about how life is great and stuff, and I mentioned to him that despite my deep and abiding love for him and my mom, it's my goal--sometime in the next six months or so--to move out of their house. I mean, don't get me wrong, living at home has its perks, but after four years out on my own, its a little claustrophobic. So the goal is: get the car paid off as much as possible, save up some cash in the meantime, then get my butt in gear and find an apartment.

However.

My father made an offhand suggestion at the time. He said something to the effect of, instead of investing in somebody else, how about you wait a little longer, save your money, and then invest in yourself and buy a house.

Wait, what?

Me, buy a house? Me, a twenty-something, to whom it was HUGE to get a car loan and be making that monthly payment. Home ownership is SO out of my league, it's not even funny. I don't know the first thing about buying a house! This is HUGE. Like, a life-long investment. I mean, home loans are like 30 year investments. I thought a four-year car loan was bad (trying to pay that one off in two, but we'll see how it goes!) Home ownership, I thought, was so totally out of my league as to be laughable.

Except, like so many things in my life, I can't stop thinking about it.

This morning, I kind of started asking my mom about logistics. The very basics. This whole affair is absolutely foreign to me, I can't even tell you. But as the day went on, I started looking up mortgage calculators (which I still can't make heads or tails of) and calculating exactly how much I could pay every month on my limited salary (with a car payment to boot) and what I would have to rent out the rooms for in order to make ends meet...

You can probably see where this is going. But the biggest surprise was when I got home--to hear that my parents had found a house. It's in our stake (one of my primary stipulations at the moment) and it's pre-foreclosure, so it's ridiculously low-listed, even in the current market. I insisted on going over to see it. Haven't been inside yet, but the outside is c-ute. At this point, I should have slapped myself to wake up from this nonsense, but it hasn't happened yet.

How do these things happen? It's one thing to discuss investments with Melissa (thinking at the time--that's cool, but I couldn't do anything like that) to semi-seriously discussing this with the parental unit. I mean, how many 22-year-olds do YOU know who own their own home? Seriously! This is craziness.

But...it's kind of exciting all the same.
I'll keep you posted.

Adulthood strikes again!!! (I apologize for rambling to follow)

I may just be buying a new car. Ah!
It's a Honda CR-V, 2004, red, AND it's a stickshift. :)

So, I've been wanting to buy a new car for several months now, but I've waited, making sure it was really something I wanted, and to save up some money so I could put a good chunk down. Originally, I had an eye on small pickups--Toyota Tacoma, especially, the smaller ones--mostly because I wanted to sit up higher. (Right now, I'm in a '94 Geo Prizm, which is about as low to the ground as you can get.) I want a bigger car, something I can sit up higher in.

I was drawn to the pickups because I thought they would get better gas mileage than the bigger SUVs, etc. However, upon doing the research, it turns out that pickups are quite the gas guzzlers. Many SUVs, particularly the smaller ones, actually get better gas mileage, as good as many sedans. And so I was drawn to the SUVs.

And actually, these turned out to be more of what I wanted anyway--they're big enough that I can haul my stuff in (and I tend to do a lot of hauling of my stuff) and yet I can still haul my peeps, too, which I can't do in a little pickup truck. However, I immediately knew that if I was going for an SUV, I would want a smaller one--pretty much as small as they come.

Let me explain: I don't really like big cars. My parents have had a minivan my entire life, and I HATE minivans. They're ugly, first off, and they just feel huge when you drive them. They're awkward to drive, to park, to u-turn, et cetera and so forth. I find that suburbans and large SUVs feel much the same, and that is not at all what I wanted.

And so it all came down to the test drive. I felt like a smaller SUV was what I wanted, but I needed to do some test driving to make sure. After consulting the web and the Consumer Reports, I narrowed down, basically to two vehicles, the Toyota RAV4 and the Honda CR-V. I was willing to look at others, but those were the two I had my eye on. Also, I had decided that I wanted a 2004, or possibly 05. I like the body style better. The younger versions, in both vehicles, tended to look more like extended hatchbacks, which is a look I don't much like. Besides which, the 2004s were starting to get more toward my price range. :)

The first car I drove today was a 2004 Honda CR-V, and I loved it immediately. It just felt right--I liked the size of it, I liked how it drove, I liked the feel of it--except that it was an automatic. TANGENT TIME!

I love driving manual transmission. I love my stickshift. My car now is a stick, and I love it. I learned to drive in that car, and if I can help it, I'll never have an automatic. This spurred my desire to get a slightly older vehicle--the Toyota stopped making standards after 2005, and the Honda, I believe, after 2006, which is lame. All of the cars I drove today except the one was an automatic, and I won't like that this particular vehicle draws me because it's a standard. Anyway--onward.

After the first one, I drove a Toyota Camry, and didn't much like it. Entirely besides the fact that I'm ready for something different, the Camry just felt boxy. I'm really too short for that car.

We looked at a couple more places, didn't really see anything interesting, so we then drove down to the Brent Brown Toyota dealership on University Parkway. There, I drove a 2007 Toyota RAV4. It was a nice vehicle, quite similar to the CRV, but it felt a little bigger (just a hair), and I didn't quite like the feel of it as much as the CRV. They were very minor differences, really. But that was the only one they had on the lot, and there's no way I could have afforded the '07.

TANGENT TIME AGAIN. Car salesman always focus on the payments and the financing, overlooking the sticker price. They want you to drive away today, and they're willing to do anything to get the payment you can afford. I say this all with great sarcasm--I'm at a point where I don't really care what the monthly payment is, I fully intend to pay the car off as quickly as possible, which means I want to know the ACTUAL COST of the vehicle. It drove me nuts to be constantly asked what kind of payment I wanted to make. I don't care! I just want to get a good deal on the car!

Anyhow, so after that, we decided to drive to the Honda dealership up the street. And there, sitting in the parking lot, was a little red, 2004 CR-V. AND it was a stickshift. The test drive was lovely, it just felt so good to have a stickshift. I don't know why it makes such a difference to me, but it really does. It became one of my major qualifiers for my vehicle purchase.

And then the games began. We went in to just take a look at the financing. Right. The first salesmen we worked with just wasn't being very flexible. He was holding at 13,995, which was a pretty steep price for this vehicle, which has some scratches and cosmetic defects, as well as 70,000 miles. The first CR-V we'd tested was at 13,500 with only 58,000 miles. But this first guy just wasn't budging on that, he kept going on about the certification/warranty on the car, blah blah blah, and we were pretty much ready to walk out. My personal limit walking in was 12 grand--I wasn't willing to pay anything more than that, because I felt like that was what I could afford.

This morning when we were leaving, I had privately wished to myself that I could have my Uncle Frank there when it came down to this part--he's a car salesman and knows his shit, as opposed to my parents and I. I mean, we tried to play the game, but we just don't have it in us. But of all the kismet things to happen, he was down for the BYU football game, and was five minutes down the street. I asked him to come by, and he did to take a look at the car.

That was when things got interesting. We all trooped back outside to look at the car. Uncle Frank was very leery of the cosmetic damage. We knew from the CarFax that the car had been in an accident, but there weren't any details about the damage or any repairs done. He pointed out all of the flaws, of which he made a great fuss, and got on the phone with "his guy" to find out the auction price of the vehicle, blah blah blah.

At this point, we were joined by the business manager of the dealership. He and Uncle Frank started debating about the actual worth of the car, about the depths of the damage, blahdeblahdeblah. My Aunt Debbie was trying to be supportive, while my parents continued in the conversation with Uncle Frank and the business manager, who obviously wasn't going to give us the car for 9,500, which is what Uncle Frank decided was the highest we should pay.

Finally, the business manager turned back to me--which was the smartest move he made--and asked me what I wanted, seeing as I was the one buying the car. Uncle Frank pulled me aside just as he was leaving and told me not to buy the car, while my Aunt Debbie told me to do what I wanted. Thanks for the support! (and I mean that with absolute sincerity. Without them, I couldn't have gotten the deal I did!)

The BM started rambling off about not being able to give us the car for 9,500, or 10,500 (which was my mother's original offer) because he had to make SOME profit off the car, but that he wished he could meet us somewhere in the middle, because he wanted to earn my business (he used that phrase a lot). At some point, he mentioned 11,500 as more of a middle ground, and at that point I finally jumped back in and asked if 11,500 was something he could do. He told me he'd go find out, and we all trooped back inside.

My poor father kept wanting to get us out of there so the car salesman wouldn't suck us in, but we just kept getting sucked back in! They're very good.

He eventually came back and told me he could in fact give me the car for 11,500. At that point, he had me--we were under my self-set budget of 12,000! But I still hadn't been approved for financing, I hadn't checked on what my insurance would be, blah blah blah. He then offered to let me take the car home for the weekend, to see how I felt about it. Hmm! I asked what I needed to do, and he had to go back to the office for approval. So we hung out for awhile.

THEN he came back and said he didn't get approval for that, BUT! if I would buy the car today, he could give it to me for 11,000! Had to think about it for awhile. I had already decided that I didn't want to buy the car today--I really wanted at least a day or two to think on it, besides checking on the financing and stuff. It was tempting, I'll admit, but I at last told him firmly that I wanted to wait until Monday. He guaranteed me the 11,500 til Monday.

And out we were! I'm still hoping I can get the car for 11,000 on Monday, but I'm still okay with 11,500 if that's what it ends up being. Whew!

Just for kicks, we went and drove a couple more cars, including a Subaru Forester (which was lame and felt like a station wagon), but the longer I considered it, the better and more confident I felt about the car. My Uncle Frank will certainly scorn me, but I'm okay with that. I feel like it's a good car, one that will last me a long time. I like the feel of it, I like sitting up higher, and I like having a bigger car--but one that still gets decent gas mileage (20/26). Also, it's red, the color I wanted, and it's a stickshift. AND we got them down $3000 from the original price! I have my uncle to thank for that one--if he hadn't been there telling me not to buy the car, they never would have budged!

I feel like I'm in a stable place in life. I have a solid down payment, and hopefully I can get at least a thousand out of my current car to put down as well. I feel confident that I can make the monthly payments, and I plan to put down quite a bit more, as well. If I can make the payments according to my plan, I will have the car paid off by the end of next summer, hopefully even earlier than that. I also feel like it will be really good to have this on my credit. It will help me to buy a home at some point in the future, and that is very important.

It's just weird to be doing adult things like buying my own car! But I just feel so good about it. I love the car, I feel like I'm getting a good deal, and I just feel so responsible and mature (as ridiculous as that sounds to say!) It feels so good to do this for myself. My parents helped me, they advised me, but I am doing this for myself. I have picked what I wanted, and I am buying it for myself. And oh goody, I get to pay the increased insurance and gas as well! Adulthood strikes again!!! :D

The benefits of sleeping in

My mother likes to laugh (rather triumphantly) and say that I have at last joined the REAL world of working stiffs who have too much to do and not enough time to do it. I, somewhat resignedly, admit this is true. Granted, I have a lot less (and somehow more) to worry about than the regular working stiff--no rent, for example, and all the things that go along with that. However, it always seems like there's never enough time or energy to get things done. Busy busy busy.

Not that many years ago, all through high school and a good portion of college, I took every opportunity available to sleep in. And we're talking sleep-til-noon sleep in, dead to the world and luxuriating in this supposed freedom. My mother would make fun of me, but I always considered it one of the great relaxation techniques.

I haven't slept in like that in weeks, if not months. Sleeping in, these days, consists of sleeping til nine, ten if I'm lucky, perhaps on Sunday mornings, because I don't have church until eleven. That is restful. Getting to sleep past six-thirty is a weekend luxury. Usually it's because I have things to get up for--friends to visit or activities to attend.

This morning, I slept in.

I woke up at six-thirty, half got up, then remembered it was Saturday, cheered and went back to sleep. I woke up again at nine, thought about getting up, rolled over and went back to sleep. I woke up again at eleven, and just laid in bed for an hour, contemplating the nature of the universe.

I won't deny that it wastes time that could be spent doing other things. I won't deny the laziness inherent in it. However, I can think of no more relaxing thing than simply lying in bed with nothing pressing to drag you out of it. Sure, there are things I'd like to get done today. But there is nothing I HAVE to get done today, and certainly there are no time restraints. My mom came down to ask if I wanted to go shopping, and I said no--not because I wouldn't like to go, and spend time with my parents, but because that would force me to get ready for the day before I'm ready to do so. Days like this have become very rare, and I like to treasure them. Nothing rushed, nothing pressing, simply enjoying life and the little things to spend it on.

Work and talk and stuff

I started my new job today. I'm working there in the afternoons this week, while I finish up at my other job, then I'll start full time next week. After my first day, I felt slightly like my brain would explode, but I have the feeling I'll get over it. The people make the job, I suppose, and I definitely like the people there. Hopefully that will make the difference. That and being able to wear whatever I want and listen to whatever music I want in the office. Speaking of which! If you haven't heard, definitely check out Pandora, by the Music Genome Project. It's basically online radio, but without commercials, and you can personalize your own stations to play the kind of music you like. It's way cool, take a look.

In addition to the insurance responsibilities I've been discussing, I'm also on the verge of taking over my own wireless payments--the last vestiges of a time when my parents paid for everything. Alas, adulthood. At any rate, I'm thinking about switching service providers. In talking to friends and coworkers, I've determined that almost nobody is entirely satisfied with their cell phone service, and I can't seem to get any straight opinions on anything. With that in mind, I'm searching out the cheapest plan that appeals to me the most for whatever arbitrary reason I happen to come up with. In that light, I'm seriously considering switching to T-Mobile, unless any major objections come up in the next bit. They're a little cheaper than everybody else, and they fit my needs perfectly. I really like the "MyFaves" plan--since I only talk to three people with any regularity, it makes sense to make those three free minutes, since they're all with different providers. Ergo and so forth. Any thoughts?

Insurance and other meddlesome things

Insurance.

Yesterday, I wrote out a check for my year's worth of car insurance. It's gone down considerably, as my youthful speeding tickets have finally been dropped from my record. Still a chunk of money, but I stressed less about it this year than in those past.

However, another fact of life is looming in the near future, as my parents are none too slow to remind me.

My health/dental/vision/etc insurance will disappear in January, as I am no longer in school. I've had the fortune to have a cushion of many months, due to error on part of the insurance company. However, the cushioning is at an end, and come 2009, I am responsible for my own little self.

It raises an issue I'd rather avoid, but cannot. With one (or even two!) part time job(s), I get no health insurance. Right now, I'm working about 25 hours a week. I have been hoping and hoping and wrangling to get more hours, but even if I were to get the max I could possible have, I still would not get benefits, as the school cannot afford to pay them. I have been so hoping that Walden would work out despite all the issues, because I have been enjoying it so much. But it looks like I'm going to have to face reality.

I've been hoping to find a second part time job to bring in more money, but even besides the benefits issue, there are others. The most sad and important of which being that Walden is inconsistent. Much as I love the people there, they are extremely fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants. (I hesitate to use the word flaky no matter how appropriate.) Yesterday I worked a full eight hours. Today I worked five. What is tomorrow, or the next day? How can I get another job, if I can't even guarantee when I get off every day? I'm working a "real" job to find consistency--without that desire, I'd be working in the theatre as my art-soul wishes. I thought maybe I could find balance here, but apparently not.

I love Walden School. Already, I do. But I need to be realistic. I have to be an adult, no matter how much I want to avoid it. I need to save money, and I need to take care of myself. If Walden can't commit to me, I need to go somewhere else. Sad, but true muffins.

Direction and purpose

School is cool. Real life sucks.

This evening I was talking to Melissa (my best friend) on the phone. At one point in the conversation, I said something to the effect of, "Melissa, let's go back to school. Where do you want to go?"

This led into a discussion about the virtues of USU in Logan, and we "decided" we would go next year, once her student loans from our first time around are paid off.

I'll tell you what--even the half-kidding declaration of going back to school made me feel better about life.

I've been feeling pretty directionless for some time, since before my December graduation, even. Theatre is something of a dead end for me. Don't get me wrong, I love theatre and I love stage managing, probably more than anything I could ever choose to do, except maybe writing. But (long story short) I crave mental, financial, and spiritual stability, none of which are available with a career in the arts. This summer was so very fulfilling, and if it could go on forever, I would be set for life. But alas.

So now I'm home and facing the rest of my now-empty life and wondering what on earth to do with it. I applied for a half dozen jobs this morning, and will continue to do so, but I consider them "filler" until I can figure out what I really want to do. Going back to school is actually a viable option, as I have and will continue to discuss. Going on a mission is still in my frame of reference. Wailing in frustration is--at least internally--a constant.

No matter what happens, though, I need to find direction and purpose. I can't live without it. I have driven myself for too long--and been going without for too long--to continue this way for much longer. Coming from "Ivona, Princess of Burgundia", we must go onward and upward forever.

...both a drug, and not a drug...

Everyone should have a group of friends with whom they can do absolutely anything, or be absolutely anybody. Everyone should have this intimate circle where everything is okay, and yet you still strive to make the most out of yourself to please these other selves that have somehow actually come into being.

I don't think any of the ACIDS read this blog, or they might be embarrassed by the depths of my feelings. I often say how much I love (and often miss) the ACIDS--my core group of friends from high school, who--despite them all marrying and now starting to have children--have remained some of my very best friends in adulthood. Just this last Christmas we inducted Sam's wife Ashley, which made us five. And I hardly ever feel like a third wheel. We're just family--and I have no idea how I will ever get a sixth element to mix into it, but that's neither here nor there.

Today was my 'brother' Michael's 22nd birthday--"Over the Hill" said the card I gave him with a laugh. That makes it about eight and a half years since our friendship began. Boy, just saying that makes me feel old.

These are my true sibs, my blood-brothers and sisters, though different genes flow in each of our veins. With these, I know I will always be able to come back, and find things the same. Different, and yet infinitely the same. Sam and Michael will still do the scary clown, and Whitnee and I will always roll our eyes. Ashley will always be there, sardonic and yet so lovable. And I fear that Sam and I will always quote movies (if not Pirates 3) at each other, and he will always, always inspire my creativity like nothing else in the world.

I value all of my friends dearly, but also very differently. There are things you can tell your best friend that you can't tell your brother, just like there are stories you shared with your brother that are never quite as funny to anybody else. The ACIDS are these sibs, who will always have my adolescence in their hearts when they look at me, just as I do theirs.

Meeting Expectations

I've discovered over the years that there are certain people whom I will always want to please or impress--some to a greater degree than others. I can pinpoint these people, and I have a good relationship with each of them, albeit a very different relationship in each and every case.

For instance, there is my best friend. I always crave her good opinion of me, and I simultaneously always crave her own happiness. At the core of our relationship, however, is our religion--I feel that the closer I am to my religion, the more peaceful our relationship is. HOWEVER, this is the one person who I can completely be myself with. There is no one else whom I so completely trust, with every aspect of my life. I think everyone should have such a person.

I have another friend, a very close friend. We've gone through four years of college together, pursuing the same career--sometimes a cause for contention or competition, but most often a source of mutual aspirations. Despite everything, I always want to impress this dear friend with my prospects--where I'm working for the summer, where I'm going in six months, my dreams and goals. We've shared them for a long time. But recently we've kind of met a fork in the road--he got into grad school and I didn't. But in addition to that, I've realized that this road we've been traveling together isn't one I want to be on anymore. But, because of the nature of our friendship, I don't know how to explain to him that I don't share these mutual goals and aspirations anymore. The path that I want to take may not be as impressive to him, and I fear losing his respect.

There is my family, particularly my parents. For their sakes, I want to make something of myself. Pursuing our religion helps, but mostly I just want to be able to do things that make them proud of me. Oh, and my mother really wants grandchildren. I'll be perfectly happy to oblige her, as soon as I find their father.

I also have a favorite cousin, and I think for her it's good enough just to be myself. We've made similar mistakes, we share a lot of opinions, we share in the immediacy of our family, and she's honestly the one person whom I can talk childbirth with, without it getting awkward because I don't have my son anymore.

There are my high school friends--God bless them--who are dearer to me than nearly anything else in the world. For them, it's frequently a religion thing: am I dating, what's my calling, etc. They could often care less about my career, as long as its something that makes me happy. And as long as I'm doing SOMEthing. Hopefully soon I'll be able to remedy that. The only problem is that they don't want me to move away. My career would cause that, but my chosen career is becoming less appealing every day.

My professors, for the most part, want me to be successful at this chosen career--and NOT succumb to this religious inclination toward home and babies. Certainly, I want them to be proud of me also, but I think they are going to be the first ones I disappoint.

So what of myself? This is what puzzles me on a daily basis. What expectations do I hold for myself? They are often conflicting. I want to be successful, but as the days roll by, I more and more often question what exactly I want to succeed at. Certainly, there is much temporal glory to be had by being a woman pursuing a career. I have wanted that. But do I anymore? The older I get, the less that seems to matter. I used to mock women of my age (and younger) who settled down and started their families, without ever pursuing anything outside the home. I thought "They're not making anything of themselves, they're wasting their brains." But I don't really think that anymore. There are plenty of important things to do, at every stage of life. Pursuing a career is very grand, and I would love to do it. I love the theatre, I love the arts. But I don't think I could be content living that life. There is so much more to it.

I guess the greatest expectations I have to meet are the ones that HF and I work out between us--what satisfies His expectations while still generating my own happiness. I just have to figure them out, that's all.

A little lack of laughter

I was thinking about posting an April Fools' blog--"I'm Getting Married!" or "I'm Moving to Mexico" or something equally ridiculous. But when I tried to write it, I wasn't laughing, so I decided not to.

What is it about real life that takes all the childish humor out of things?


PS: My brother is leaving for the mission field today!

Surrogate mother

This week, I've been staying at my parents' house in Orem, taking care of my 'niece' Elaina. This little one has been through the mill. She was born a month early, with DiGeorge's Syndrome. She had heart surgery when she was about a week old, which meant she was at Primary's for nearly the first month of her life. She came home for a couple of days, caught RSV and went straight back. She spent three more weeks at the hospital, then finally was able to come home. Two days later, her mom was diagnosed with Influenza A. The doctor told Hollie not even to be in the same house as her kids, so she called my parents and asked if they could take the kids, which they did. Elaina is still on oxygen, as you can see, as well as an oxygen/heart monitor, so her movement is pretty limited. Hollie's parents came to stay with my parents for a week to help take care of the baby, and when they had to return to Nebraska, I came down from Salt Lake to stay through the remainder of Hollie's illness to take care of Elaina and Ben.
Elaina is the most darling baby in the world, and so sweet-tempered. She's been giving us some scares--some of her medicine upsets her stomach, so she's been throwing up. The first time it happened, they had to call the paramedics because she stopped breathing and turned blue--but they got everything sorted out and she was okay. Yesterday, she spit up three times in the space of 24 hours, so we took her to the doctor. He gave us some pointers to keep her from doing it, but really praised us on her care, said she was doing great. The really scary thing is that it comes up through her nose as well as her mouth. It just looks more terrible than it actually is, and it's no fun for anybody. We have to suction out her airways, replace her airtubes because they get spitup in them, we usually have to change and bathe her because she gets it all over herself--its just a lot of fuss that nobody really enjoys. Hopefully she won't do it anymore!

The really funny part is our dog, Suzy Q. Now, this dog has always been pretty protective of Ben, Elaina's five-year-old elder brother. Whenever Ben goes out to ride his bike, Suzy runs right along with him. She loves playing with him. She's only about two years old, and having Elaina in the house has really mellowed this dog. As you can see, she's become Elaina's Nanna--she is SO protective. She'll just sit there next to the baby's bouncer for hours, and she's always sniffing and watching Elaina. It's so cute.
Caring for Elaina has been a real joy. She's such a pleasant baby--even when she fusses she's just so cute, you just want to make her happy. She's at the stage where she's starting to focus on things with her eyes, and she's really getting expressive with her eyes and face. She's gaining more control of her hands, enough to push me away when she doesn't want to burp! Soon she'll be able to push her binky back in her mouth when she drops it--which is all the time. Caring for Elaina just makes me want my own babies, and right now!

In His Service

Today, my brother entered the LDS Missionary Training Center, in Provo Utah. He was set apart last night as a full-time missionary, for the period of 24 months. He is to serve in the Washington, D.C. South Mission.

This a pretty big step in the life of a young Mormon man, perhaps the biggest step before marriage itself. For most of the men I know, their mission helped them truly define themselves as a person. For all, it bettered their lives.

My brother is a pretty unique individual. He's suffered from ADHD his entire life. He's outgoing to a fault, and talking to him usually feels like sitting through a lecture of some kind--either science or history, most often. But underneath his rather abrasive exterior, he's a good kid. He cares about people, even if he has a hard time showing it. And he works hard--nobody can fault him for that.

I'm pretty proud of him. I worried for a long time that he wouldn't go. I still worry that it'll be hard for him--I know it will be hard for him, especially the MTC. But when I got to put on his nametag for him and looked at that little "Elder Mechling", I about burst with pride. My little brother is a missionary!

I'll be honest--watching the missionaries go forth, watching the videos, and being in that place--it made me want to serve a mission, in a way that I haven't felt for months. I don't know if this is a real desire or not, I'll have to give it time. But regardless of whether I go or not, I think missionary service is one of the sweetest things on the planet.

So, kudos to all missionaries--past, present, and future--and hats off to everybody else who thinks they're cool too.