Lying on my back on the kitchen counter and staring up at the ceiling.

Hi guys.

I know.

Where the blankity-blank have I been? (see post title: it's an unusual place, but considering how I've just been floating around in this crazy space in my head lately, I think it makes perfect sense.)

I have been wanting to say something, anything really, but I have felt so silent on the inside the last few weeks. Despite fun days here and there, I think I have been trying not to fly off the handle and go completely beserk, so I've just dialed everything down and zipped my lips (and apparently my fingers) in an effort to keep it all together.

I feel like there are so many things I want to do. But at the same time, I am completely incapable of doing any of them. I want to quit my current job. I need a grown-up new one. I want to buy a car, but I don't know how to go about it. I want to move. Out of the state, out of the country. But where do I go?

I want to send YSB a cheesy card that tells him how I'm crazy mad about him, but it's not exactly Valentine's Day, and I'm a coward. I want to write my brother a letter and tell him I miss him, and I have, but I just haven't sent it. I want to finish that stupid photo album I've been working on for over three years and send it to my birth family, but I can't seem to find the motivation to finish.

I want to quit SLACKING ON MY MARATHON TRAINING because the race is in THREE WEEKS.

I don't understand myself sometimes. Why am I so afraid to go after the things I want? Why can't I finish even simple little projects? Why do these stupid little things terrify and immobilize me?

I hate that I can never be the best version of me that I want. This complacent, boring person isn't me, but I'm not doing a very good job of changing her.

I have this dream of spending an entire day just being brave, and right now, I can't ever see that coming true.

Oh for Pete's sake, this is the worst post ever. Stay tuned for something much better!

Roomie Reunion

This weekend, the Original Six of us (minus one) got together for the first time in almost a year. I would post pictures, but we forgot to take any because we partied like there was no end to Spring Break.  And by party, I mean we sedately talked and played Ticket to Ride and Pinochle. While drinking diet soda and eating junk like diet soda and Panda Express.

It was quite possibly the most junk food I've eaten since Christmas (and it wasn't even that much!) and I felt miserable. Which probably didn't help me when I ran the Leprechaun Lope on Saturday.

Click here to read all about the race and the really embarrassing thing that I thought I did but didn't actually end up doing.

But it was such a fun weekend, and I went to one of their baby showers, and found out a different roommate is pregnant, and two roommates are going to Europe this summer, and one is moving to Michigan, and the other possibly to Kansas....

And I'm a waitress. At a really stupid restaurant. Who doesn't know what to do with her life. Stuck in stupid Happy Valley. Who stupidly ate three and a half brownies for breakfast.

Sometimes, I'm overwhelmed with how underwhelming my existence is.

RIP dearest Davy.

Sad Things

I know it's Friday and that it should be a happy day, but lots of sad things have happened--

I left Logan in tears. I left my dear roommate and friends behind.  I got eliminated from Blogger Idol this morning. My ankle is bothering me. And now I have to unpack everything. Which is the worst cut of all.

So... I don't know what to say.

Um...  Good luck on the new school year for all you students!!! I wish I were joining you.

I'm so sad. Like a sad little panda.

I'm leaving Kate and Logan this week. Probably for good. My family needs me, my friends are nearly non-existent, and I haven't been able to find a job up here, so I am conceding defeat.

This has been my home for the last five years. Such a big part of my heart belongs to this sweet little place. I have cried at least five times a day the last four days. It is not what I want to do. But it's the right thing to do. I can't wait for the day when the right thing to do matches with what I want to do.

Ugh. I'm heartbroken.

Ever Seen That Super Intense Grimace...

that some people have when they're running past you?

Well, I decided that look was not attractive and, therefore, would not be for me. So when I haul myself up the streets of O-Town, I try to at least have a relaxed face, and I make it a point to smile widely and say "Good morning!" to every person I pass.

But listen! Hardly anybody says it back to me. Much less with a smile. Not a real one, anyway. Instead, their eyes narrow at me in suspicion, and their mouths are tight and not friendly at all. I don't understand it. It's a cheerful, good-natured "hello"! How is it that a simple greeting is suddenly viewed as having an ulterior motive, or being insincere? I was so upset that I had to rant to my mother about it the other day. 

But that night, I was driving home from a wedding, and I stopped to get gas. A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair, worn clothes, and a southern accent timidly approached me as I started filling up. He told me in a quiet voice that he and his sick wife had been traveling for the past 10 days from New Orleans, where he'd been laid off for 8 months, because they'd heard there was work here in Utah. They'd had car trouble, his wife was diabetic, they'd been living out of their car because they couldn't afford any motels, and could I "please spare a couple dollars for some gas?" 

For a split second, I became that person I'd been complaining about to my mom just a few hours before. I stopped and looked at him in distrustful appraisal, trying to decide if he was being honest. And then I remembered. And oh, I was so ashamed of myself. I'm almost crying just thinking about it. My heart hurt because here was a man, who I knew inside was dying because he just wasn't able to provide for his wife, yet he was humble enough to ask, and the first thing that crossed my mind was that maybe he was trying to cheat me. I was horrified with myself, and I swore I'd never be that person again.

I told him I'd be right over. That I was happy to help. And I was. Groupies, I don't have any money. Even working all summer, I've only made enough to cover rent prepayments, the phone bill, and the credit card payment. I have to hope and pray every year that I'll get some decent financial aid in order to pay for school. Usually, I have less than $100 in my checking account at any given time. Sometimes, I live only on oatmeal, cos there's just not enough to buy groceries that week. It's hard for me, a silly college student.

But I, a silly college student, have so much. I have a job, I am perfectly healthy, I have a home to go to, I don't have anyone depending on me for support. So I swiped my card and bought him some gas. What I paid doesn't add up to much in the grand scheme of things, but it's a lot when you're me and had already had to buy gas for the trip up and down (twice in one weekend). But the feeling I got when the man looked at me in heartfelt gratitude for the few dollars I gave him was better and more than any comfort or security I could've had from having $1000 in my bank account.

I hope I never look with suspicion or doubt again at a child of God in need of help who asks for it. I hope you never do either. Whether or not someone is being honest, I don't think any of us wants to look back and realize that we turned someone down who genuinely needed our help because "I just wasn't sure." It doesn't matter if we're sure or not. It really doesn't matter.

What matters is that our hearts are open, 

our hands are giving, 

and our eyes and smiles let others know 

that we are their friends. 

Please be this world's friend!

(and thank you for being mine)

Double Tragedy...

(sorta)

*sniffle*

Tragedy #1: My roommate Cortnie has been feeling a little lonely and out of sorts. She is up in Logan by herself, and I didn't have to work today or tomorrow, so last night I thought I might go up and surprise her with a visit. Fortunately, I checked to see if she would be up there before I actually went, but she had gone home to her family in Montana. I'm very happy she's with her family, but I'm sad because I miss her and I was really excited at the possibility of visiting her.

Tragedy #2: Yummy-smelling boy and I were doing a bit of texting, and I was telling him about my plan to possibly surprise Cort, and he said that if I did make it up there, he and his buddies were having a BBQ on Saturday, and that I should come. But since I wasn't going to be able to visit Cort, I couldn't justify the gas money to get up there, so I had to decline. It was a total bummer, and I may or may not have whimpered a little in pathetic girlish despair. Don't judge me! (You haven't smelled him.)

Is that, or is that not, tragic?

That's what I thought!

*sniffle*

*sniffle*sniffle*

:-(

Well, It's Official...

He-Who-Must-Never-Ever-Be-Named-Again-On-This-Blog

and the Roomie are engaged as of Friday.

Not gonna lie.

Even though it's been a few months 

since I decided I was over the whole debacle,

my li'l heart is feeling a bit pummeled.

Crying in the middle of Shopko is not attractive.

I wish I had held it together a little better.

Dear Somebody...

It's 11:04 at night as I start to write this.

I'm  discouraged. 

I feel like I'm suffering a relapse. I broke out of my shell last spring. I was outgoing, cheerful, spunky, brave... and while I kind of still am, it's only a shadow of what it used to be. Not sure if it's because of what happened last semester, but I'm cautious again. I'm reserved, slightly withdrawn. I'm scared of what people might do to me, because I'm not the type to fight and defend myself, because confrontation terrifies me. And it takes me a long time to get over being hurt. I don't like to show it, so I hold it all inside.

As a result, I'm burned out, I'm bored, I'm lonely, and I feel like I'm not good enough. It doesn't matter what, I just don't feel good enough. I'm not good at anything. I'm the worst athlete in the world. I'm not a musician. I'm no artist. I'm not a gung-ho, proactive, I-can-get-what-I-want-in-this-world kind of person. I'm not a good student. I'm not even a good English major. I am what I like to call, "blah at everything."

Yesterday, I told at least five different people--people who seem to know where they're going, who have plans in mind, who get good grades without really trying--I told them that...

I want to color on sidewalks and make paper chains,

I want to bake cupcakes and cuddle kittens,

Braid people's hair and give out shoulder massages,

I want to-- 

(Excuse me, it's 11:11 and I need to make a wish.)

I'm back.

Where was I? Oh yes.

I want to sit on sunny benches and just watch people. 

I want to dance on a grassy meadow.

Listen to music and take naps in the sunshine.

(They didn't understand.)

I know that they were all thinking, "Silly girl, there's no career in that." 

I don't even really want a career!

But how will I support myself if I don't get one?

You can't be a globe-trotting old maid if you don't have money, you know.

I'm also tired of always, always living paycheck to paycheck.

(I don't get much financial support from parents, see.

Not that they wouldn't if they could, 

there just has never been enough. Never.)

So I need a career.

But I. Don't. Want. One. 

I'm ambition-less. 

Well, I wouldn't say that exactly.

Just ambition-less in every area that matters to everybody else.

Maybe I am just a silly girl.

What am I going to do? I don't know how to be any different.

(Cry, I think. That sounds like a good idea.)

It's 11:41. 

Bye.

Dear  Boy  Person Who Relies Too Much On Texting,

Please learn how to talk to people in real time, in real life. Especially when it's about important, personal things. Talking on the phone is not my favorite thing to do either, but after what happened last night, I'm going to practice liking it.

I try so hard to do right by everybody, but sometimes you make it really hard to do. I hate texting. When you text me, I can't tell if you're joking or serious, then I get trapped in a corner because I misinterpreted something, and I say something too bluntly when I should've been gentle, or I joke when you meant to be serious. But how was I supposed to know when you NEVER PICK UP THE PHONE AND CALL?!!!

I'm so sorry. It could've been said better. It could've been said differently. But you left me without options.

Chess

PS. And you also made me cry in my closet. You made me feel bad. Even though I'm pretty sure I didn't do anything wrong. :-(

* * * * *

Dear Traci,

Thanks for hanging up on your fiance and comforting me while I cried in the closet. You told me so many things I needed to hear. Thanks for being my roommate again. I've missed you.

Love,

Your roomie

* * * * *

Dear Kelsha,

Thanks for calling me. You had perfect timing. I'm sorry I didn't have Dead Poets' Society for you. But thanks for the Slurpee. I needed a friend, and you were there.

Love,

Chess

* * * * *

Dear Erica,

You're the best. You are so kind and thoughtful. You don't judge. You are beautiful, and funny, and smart. And you still help me when I just make messes of things while trying to fix the messes I made. 

I want to be like you when I grow up.

Love,

Chess

* * * * *

Erica said something that hit me pretty hard when I was being all stupid and miserable last night. When she offered to go get ice-cream, and I said my friend already took me for a Slurpee, Erica said, "Wow. A lot of people love you." And you know what? She was right. I'm so glad she reminded me of that beautiful fact.

For every person that has made me feel miserable (and I can count them on one hand), there's a hundred more that make me thrilled to be alive! I'm so lucky and I hope that I can be the kind of person that can always deserve my wonderful friends and family. I realize I don't know most of you that are reading this, but believe me when I say you make the sunshine in my day ten times more beautiful! I can't thank you enough! 

So, I'd love to know...

(while you enjoy this beautiful Friday)

Who are the people that make the sunshine in your day?

Once Upon a Time...

There was a girl named Chess, but for the sake of anonymity,

we'll call her Marge.

Marge had lots of friends.

She had girlfriends and boyfriends 

(of the non-romantical sort)...

Some friends were tall, some were short, some were all bones and skinny, and some were much more cuddly to hug. Some friends had red hair, and some had brown, occasionally, some had black (but it was fake), and some were blonde. Some liked to laugh a lot, and some were quiet, some were prudes, and others liked to cuss and make off-color jokes. Marge was more of the laugh-a-lot-when-others-make-off-color-jokes type. After she decided to major in English, making her prudish roommates uncomfortable with off-color jokes was a talent she no longer wanted to hide under a bushel. 

Marge and her friends had heaps of exciting adventures,

such as hiking in the canyon at midnight, fishing at midnight,

hiking in the snow at midnight,

hauling hay at midnight, 

playing Ultimate Frisbee in the university's football stadium at midnight,

(lots of midnight activities--get your mind out of the gutter!)...

Then one day, all her friends decided that 

they liked members of the opposite sex,

and decided to get all romantical with them.

Even Marge had a romantical boyfriend for a little bit...

But that didn't last too long. 

Then everybody got engaged,

or planned on getting engaged,

And Marge got really tired of them,

because, let's face it...

Engaged people are super boring

and really crappy, flaky friends.

THE END

The Moral of the Story:  Romance is a disease. Also known as Friendship Alzheimer's. Symptoms include: bailing out on already-made plans, making your friend scramble to find someone else so she doesn't have to go to the fun activity alone; talking non-stop about your significant other and failing to notice that your friend is always listening, but cries herself to sleep at night because you are so selfish and don't return the favor; talking non-stop to your significant other so your roommate can't have a moment's peace; going home every weekend, and then chattering in the ear of your friend who is TRYING to study because, "OMG, I haven't seen you forever, how come we never talk?" and not noticing the ironic fact that YOU are the reason that "OMG, we haven't talked in forever!" and that while you were gone, your friend established her own routine that you are so rudely interrupting on the day of an important midterm. If you recognize these symptoms, for the love of all that is merciful and just, either break up with your significant other or go home on the weekends, but don't come back and pretend you care.

The Real Moral of the Story: Marge is being petty, annoyed, and sensitive, and really needs to get over herself. She is being whiny and apologizes. It's just hard sometimes. She's really sorry. She's usually a very sweet and not-so-hostile person who forgives easily and always has wide-open arms. 

I Spoke Too Soon...

Pretty much... 

the most horrible afternoon of my life.

Except where Kelli and Charlie prescribed a milkshake to cure my heartache.

Thanks, girls! I owe you.

Dear Problem...

Every time I think you have finally gone away--

Every time I think I can get past the pain and trouble you've caused me--

You just. come. back.

Is this where I say in a hopeful tone, "Third time's the charm?"

Because this is the third time.

Please, oh please.

Just go away and leave me alone.

I'm begging you.

Dear Boy,

You were my wish come true on 11:11.

I'm just sad I wasn't yours.

You Know You're Best Friends With Someone...

when you get through a crisis that would

DESTROY

a friendship on TV or in a movie.

It's hard because the crisis isn't gone

or it isn't finished

because it's still there

But you manage to look past it,

to laugh about it,

to forgive and to comfort,

And you still LOVE each other!

R.I.P.

Remember my phone? Indestructible Clark?

Well, that little situation of him falling out of my pocket while I was on the balcony repeated itself today, but Little Clark gave up the ghost on the icy asphalt below. Poor little guy!

Serves me right for being late to FHE.

Yet, In Retrospect...

It wasn't that fun at all.

Monday night's fun was more in the

unexpectedness,

But after last night (Tuesday)...

No more.

Nope.

Not gonna happen.

Because tonight's goodbye told me

I can't handle it right now.

I hate goodbyes.

Can I Get a Huzzah?

I got past yesterday! I got all the urgent homework done and submitted.

AND I watched an episode of Glee! (I'm so hopelessly behind. School and life....well, it's been a nightmare.)

Today, I will do more homework. I got up and made my roommate breakfast before she had to take the Praxis, and then I went back to bed. I don't know what it is about early morning naps, but they always seem to have the best dreams. Like, seriously, the best dreams. :)

Waking up from them is the worst.

It's like somebody said, "Here's the fuzziest, warmest sweater on earth--the most perfectly warmed mug of hot cocoa--the best, lovingest, squeeziest, most delightful hug that lifts you off your feet--a slice of richly frosted chocolate fudge-y cake--an hour of gut-wrenching laughter--a spoon and a jar of no-calorie peanut butter that tastes just like the real thing--the most perfectly written book--David Archuleta serenading you with his dulcet voice--a brand-new pair of Utah State sweatpants--new, fresh, beautiful mail--the cutest text message in the world--"

...waited for you to open your arms...

...then took it all away and said, "Just kidding."

Seriously. That's what the dream gods told me. And they laughed.

I bet you're thinking, "Well, now, that couldn't get any worse."

Oh.

It could.

That magical dream was wrenched away from me, and I woke up to see it snowing.

I bet you're crying with me right now.

Thank you. Misery loves company.

Hurry, Hurry, Hurry...

is what I'm chanting to myself this morning.

It's 6:47, don'tcha know.

I've been up around 5:30 or 6:00 for the last three mornings.

I think.

It all kinda blurs together after awhile.

So much homework.

So much reading.

So much writing.

And all before Thanksgiving break.

When I come back

there will be

So much homework.

So much reading.

So much writing.

But you know what makes it worthwhile?

The peaceful time I get to spend...

praying

and

studying my scriptures

(I say "my," because once you start studying

and really paying attention,

well, the scriptures really do become your own)

before I do my homework.

I think it helps me not be crazy.

And not cry.

And not throw things.

And not cry.

And not think mean things in my head.

And not cry.

(I fail this one almost every day.)

This post is kind of sad. I'm feeling kind of sad.

I predict a sad kind of week.

Melancholy mixed with a little despondency.

Sorry.

(Apology to Cody for being vague. See below for vague details.)

I'm being vague. I feel vague.

I think it's because admitting the specifics

(happy or sad)

makes me feel

VULNERABLE

and I don't like it.

So I'll end here and wish you

Happy Weekend!!

(with no melancholy or despondency)

Dank and Dreary...

is how I would describe today. Misty tears are falling from the sky and clinging to my hair, and the cold air just seems to sink right through my coat and land in my bones. I get inside and I just can't seem to stop shivering. My mind is cold, my body is cold, and my emotions are chilled too. I just want somebody to wrap me up in a big hug and never let me go.

I despise this weather. It's so depressing.

Can I tell you some things that made me happy the other day?

I went to work on Wednesday, and I was the first one there, so I went to the classroom next door to get the key to unlock our classroom. The teacher gave it to me, and when I went to return it, a little seventh-grade girl called out to me that she liked my shirt. I smiled at her and told her thank you. As I left, I heard her say wistfully to the rest of the class, "She's pretty."

It done my little insecure heart good.

We had our little Halloween party that afternoon, with Halloweengo (Halloween Bingo--haha!) and pumpkin decorating and donuts. One of the little boys (he steals chocolate milk for me) had to leave early--his dad and his little sister came to get him. (She is the most darling little child I have ever seen in my life!) So we gave him a donut to take with him, and did he eat it? 

No, he did not.

He gave it to his little sister. Completely melting the hearts of his female tutors. Oh my goodness. It made me wish that I had an older brother to take care of me. I'm the oldest, so I don't know what it's like to have someone really look out for me--that's always been my job--so I'm jealous when I see older brothers and sisters taking care of their younger siblings.

So all you cute brothers and sisters.... I love it! Stay that way! You make me want to be a better person! 

I don't feel so dank and dreary right now. Plus there's a basketball game and a Spectrum seat with my name on it tonight.

:)