A Little Child Like Me

Last October while babysitting my 3 year old nephew, he asked if he could play a game that he enjoyed on my electronic tablet. Coincidentally, the battery had died and I had just plugged it in to charge. I explained that he would need to wait a little while in order to play for more than just a minute. That seemed to satisfy him, but about two minutes later he ran back and asked if it was ready yet. "No," I said, "not yet."

Just a few minutes later, he came back a third time to ask if it was ready, and before I could finish the word, "No," his tiny hands had formed into tight fists and his big brown eyes welled-up as he tearfully shouted, "Stop saying that!"

I took him into my arms and replied, "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You'll just have to wait."

A few days later, I sat listening General Conference. With no family of my own and a somewhat less-than-mediocre career, my heart was heavy with the disappointment of things in my life that had not happened as I had hoped they would by now. I listened intently as President Henry B. Eyring gave his talk, Where Is the Pavilion?

As he spoke the words, "we can’t insist on our timetable when the Lord has His own," I distinctly and firmly thought to myself, "Oh, I'm so tired of hearing that!" I was startled as immediately the image of that little boy, desperate for me to change my answer just a few days earlier, came into my mind. This time the tears were in my own eyes. It seemed as though my Heavenly Father was taking me into His arms as my own words came back to me:

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart. You'll just have to wait."

At that moment I knew that the Lord was aware of the desires of my heart and began to understand that while He sincerely wants us to be happy, He truly knows what and when is best. I felt an overwhelming gratitude for the blessings I have received, and a renewed patience for blessings yet to come.

Knowing Win to Quit (That's a pun.)

I love to win.

Winning is my favorite.

Even when it isn't a competition, you can bet I'm doing everything I can to win.  My walls are actually full of imaginary awards that I've won in various non-competitions throughout my life. (Though to the untrained eye, they may look empty...)

That being said, I'm learning these days that there is a certain satisfaction that comes with admitting defeat. Throwing the towel. Looking up at the universe and shouting (only figuratively of course), "Fine, I give up!"

I first learned this lesson that fateful night in the car few years ago in an incident that I won't describe in detail.  Let's just say that nature won, I lost... and my life was changed forever. I'll never forget the exact moment I realized:

This is happening. You lose. Embrace it and move on.

I recently relived this feeling with a failed Halloween costume that I'd planned for quite a while.  As it turns out, the primary component to my outfit may or may not even exist in this universe.   Unfortunately, I'd already collected everything else that I needed and spent a good amount of time trying to make it work when I found that out.  Even then, the moment I decided it was time to let go was like the world being lifted from my shoulders.

Granted my costume may not be awesome, but my quality of life has increased with the decrease in stress to a degree that makes me wonder...

What else can I give up on?

Below is the list of life goals I could possibly let go of with their respective stress reduction percentages. I've entitled it:

Things to Let Go of with Their Respective Stress Reduction Percentages

1. Finding a Husband - 50% reduction
2. Making Money - 40% reduction
3. Exercising - 5% reduction
4. Feeding Myself - 2.5% reduction
5. Getting out of Bed - 2.5% reduction

So there you have it! Giving up on life entirely = 100% relief of stress.  If only I'd learned this sooner, I may not have wasted so much time and energy trying to get ahead or accomplish things!

Maybe one day I'll declare total defeat.  In the meantime...

I still REALLY love to win.

Accessory: (adj) Subordinate; Supplementary; Additional

Yesterday I woke up in an existential emo funk that lasted most of the day.  (This doesn't happen infrequently, but pleae don't confuse it with depression or anything close to suicidal.)  I realized that I sometimes feel exhausted from constantly trying to validate my own existence.  The fact is this: As far as my current relationships in life are concerned...I lift right out.

If I were to suddenly cease to exist, at most it would be a bummer... perhaps even an inconvenience for some.  For example, at work under certain circumstnaces it may take up to 10 minutes before someone could be available to take over my position, and my roommates would have to come up with my third of the rent.  That would be incovenient.  Beyond that, nobody would be seriously put out.  I came home and expressed this concern to one of my roommates )with an embarrassing amount of emotion) with the conversation culminating in my exclaiming...

"I'm just an accessory!"

...after which we both broke down into hysterical laughter. Yes. I'm ridiculous. But this is how it is. I would be missed in the way that one misses a bracelet that slips off unnoticed. Later they would say, "Dang it. I did like that bracelet!" then run to the mall for a replacement accessory. 

When I looked up the definition of the word, I found a few that fit pretty well with how I had originally meant it... and one that might work better.

Accessory: (noun) Something nonessential but desirable that contributes

to an effect or result.

I started to think more about what type I would be.  Maybe that's really what makes all the difference. 
I thought of three categories:

• Costume jewelry:  Pretty inexpensive and extremely replaceable. Nevertheless fun to have.

•  Heirlooms: Not always nice to look at and may never be worn, but worth keeping around for sentimental value or obligation.

• Engagement/wedding rings:  Typically expensive and symbolic of something deeply meaningful. (Also super sparkly!)

So maybe all accessories can't be counted equally.  I'm sure I'm a different kind of accessory to everyone that knows me.  Perhaps not essential to any, but in some way desirable with something to contribute to most. Good enough for now.

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"Accessories are important and becoming

more and more important every day." -Giorgio Armani

Kicking the Bucket... List?

Okay, so I'm not getting rid of the "Everlasting Bucket List," though I'm sure that's how the title makes this sound. I have, however, been neglecting it and am getting myself re-amped.

Let's begin with a little housekeeping...

1) I can now recognizably play "Moon River," "Not in Nottingham," and a number of miscellaneous Christmas carols on the harmonica. At the moment, I only play for family and close friends. And by close I mean those in near enough proximity to overhear me practicing when I think I'm alone. However, since I'm well on my way to professional status, I'm going to go ahead and replace "Play the Harmonica" on the list.

2) I have, in the last few months, had at least 3 massages. Legit massages. Perks of working at a physical therapy clinic... I have good connections! I fully intend to make this a regular part of my adult life. It's absolutely essential to survival. Let me know if you need a reference!

So, I need new goals! Here are my two best ideas...

1) Until today, I had not seen any part of any Rocky movie. (I know. It's a crime.) As a self-proclaimed underdog-loving sports movie junkie, I'm a little ashamed of that fact. I just watched the last 20 minutes of Rocky IV (which I've heard is the best one) and am now determined to watch them all. Even the awful ones. "Play the Harmonica" with now be replaced with "Watch all 6 Rocky movies." Then maybe I'll rank them in order of favorite.

2) Learn braille. Okay... just the alphabet. Brilliant, right? Granted, I rarely see braille anywhere without unintentionally reading the words above it first, and typically it would be easier to feel the actual letters with my fingers to read it... I'm doing this. It's happening.

Wish me luck!

Confession 2012: T Minus Two Weeks...

Okay. I'm coming clean. To all of you who have believed me as I've claimed to be 19 (for about 4 years) I have something to confess.  In roughly 13 days, I will be turning... 27 years old.

**GASP**

Man, I feel better!  Now that that's out of the way, I know you must all be feeling sorry for me during this difficult transition into my late 20's. (Ugh. Just the thought of it makes me shudder.)  I imagine you must now be struggling to find some way to comfort me in my time of need.

That's why, in order to aid you in your attempt to show your compassion, I've compiled this list of fabulous things that I will undoubtedly need for my 27th year!!

I've titled it:

THINGS EVERY (at least this) 27-YEAR-OLD FEMALE REQUIRES

- An aloe vera plant. (My roommate killed the one I got for my 26th birthday.)
- One of those scrunchy garden hoses they sell on TV. (Why not?)
- Sour worms. (Can't have too many.)
- A Magic 8 ball. (To make the tough 27-year-old decisions.)
- One of those things that goes around my neck to hold my harmonica while I strum the ukulele...
- Fluffy flip-flop style slippers.
- A Magic Bullet. (To blend stuff.)
- Boxing gloves.
- A water cooler.
- Accessories. (Evidently I don't do it well.)
- Squishy Baff.
- Satin dental floss.
- A Sooner Schooner foam hat.
- Kevin Durant jersey.
- A gun. (Preferable a Springfield XDM .40)
- A tent.
- A black light.
- A lover. (So next year won't require so much consolation.)

This list may be modified. Did I miss anything?

Failure to Plan

Yesterday, while closing up at work, a kamikaze dove flew into the glass door about a foot from my face.  I first screamed, then cried as I watched it slowly die on the ground next to me.  I walked away after a minute feeling extremely shaken.

This morning I was reading about different omens on the Internet.  What does it mean when a dove (the symbol of love and peace) murders itself right in front of you?!  Putting my mind at ease, a coworker decided that maybe there was some reason I needed to stay at work a minute longer that day.  Some purpose for that glitch in my plan that I may never know...

I share this disturbing little anecdote because it illustrates things that have been on my mind on a larger scale lately.  If there's anything I've learned about plans, it's that they change... and that most often it's disappointing. Even heartbreaking.

I've thought a lot lately of those moments... those changes-of-plan... the rifts in the continuum of my life that have brought me to this point.  Things like:

A trip to the mailbox revealing the 'small envelope' from the university I planned to attend.

---

The last text message to the person I had intended to marry.

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The heartbreaking phone call from a sister that somehow let me know that everything had changed.

That's about the time I stopped making plans. Big plans anyway.  The funny thing is that when I think about the last four (unplanned) years, they seem like the most fulfilling and character-building years of my life.  I wouldn't trade them for the world.

Maybe sometimes the disappointments have a purpose. My new plan? Not to have a plan. 

I'm clearly not the one in charge.

Brave

Confession: Patriotic songs make me cry. (Please keep this quiet as it is privileged information.) July 4th has long been my favorite holiday. Last Sunday while singing the song "America the Beautiful" (and fighting back an embarrassing onslaught of tears) I began to think about the different expressions of bravery that went into the founding of this country.

 This led me to recognize the different types of bravery I've witnessed in my life firsthand.
- A dad working day after day doing something he doesn't love to provide for the people he does.
- A brother learning to walk again after an accident which left his legs shattered, then returning to finish the mission he'd begun.
-A sister widowed in her early thirties doing her best to raise three little boys.
-An aunt cheerfully fighting cancer...again. And so many others.

Bravery is around me every day, and in this day when we pause to celebrate the spacious skies, pilgrim feet, patriot dreams and heroes proved... I wonder... What kind of brave am I?

Daddy's Girl?

In a post a few years ago, I told a story about a girl on a plane who asked me why my nose was so big.  I laughed and told her I got it from my dad.  This Father's Day I'd like to pay tribute to my father by compiling a list of the unconventional influences he's had on my life and character. (You know... apart from my physical existence, general providence throughout my life and 50% of my good looks.)  I'm not even sure he reads my blog, but here we go!
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Things I Attribute To My Dad:

1. My knowledge of the theme songs to nearly every James Bond movie.
2. My ability to recognize the differences between an F-15 Eagle and an F-16 Fighting Falcon.
3. My appreciation for mowing the lawn.  With a push mower.
4. My habit of driving with my hand at the top of the wheel and periodically moving it to check my speed. (This was recently pointed out by my sister.  I had no idea he did it too.)
5. My tendency to tell painfully corny jokes.
6. The emotional connection I have to waffles.
7. What knowledge I possess of basic car maintenance (which I've noticed is more than most. Thanks, dad.)
8. A recognition of the importance of keeping my car clean.
9. My understanding of the game of baseball. (Let's goooooooooo, Tulsa!)
10. My love of water sports. (You should see this guy water ski!)
11. My ability to do the Lindy Hop.
12. The proud moment we were crowned the Tulsa East Stake 2010 Prom Queen and King.
13. A disdain for Wonder Woman. Sorry.
14. That I know how to Spackle a wall, grout tile, shingle a roof and maintain a swimming pool.
15. A lack of love for dogs.
16. My enjoyment of peanut butter. On everything.
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These and many more (probably more important) things I owe to one Gary Blamires. Thanks, Dad, for helping me become the weird person I am today! Proud to be your baby girl. Happy Father's Day!

Nothing Less Than A...

My favorite 3 and a half year old has a fun new way of speaking.  And thinking.  One I think we all ought to adopt.  He started out responding to compliments with complete affirmation:

"Seth, you're so cute."

"Yes I am so tute."

Then we began to pay him what is apparently the greatest compliment of all. "Seth, you're a rock star." He likes this.  So much, in fact, that his response has changed.

"Seth, you're such a good kid."

"No. I'm a rock star."

Nothing else will do.

Is this an unhealthy way of thinking? I don't think so. I believe it might do me some good to recognize my inner rock star. Especially at times when I feel anything but awesome.

Sometimes I make mistakes at work, fail to get everything done that I plan to, allow myself to be fooled by a cute boy, gain a few pounds over the weekend or wonder why my life isn't going the way I hoped it would.  I'm not incompetent or lazy or a stupid girl or a fatty... and certainly not a failure...

I'm a rock star. 

Try it!

Inhale, Breathe Steady, Exhale

Tonight I found myself lying on a blanket on the grass by myself looking up at the stars, due in part to a need to clear my mind and to the promise of a meteor shower.

As I did so, a song was running through my head that I first heard (embarrassingly enough) on an episode of Drop Dead Diva entitled "Happily Ever After" by a group called He is We. The chorus reads:

Oh, happily ever after, wouldn't you know, wouldn't you know.

Oh, skip to the ending. Who'd like to know, I'd like to know.

Author of the moment, can you tell me? Do I end up, do I end up happy?

The thing about shooting stars is that it's all a waiting game.  You wait for what feels like forever until you forget why you're out there.  Start to think about the chilly wind.  The dampness seeping through your blanket.  (The creeper out walking his dog in the middle of the night.)  And just as you decide to go inside, you catch just a glimpse. A slight motion out of the corner of your eye. Just enough to keep you there a little longer... staring, hopeful, toward the sky. Trusting that there's something coming that's worth waiting for.

Inhale, breathe steady, exhale. Like you're ready... if you're ready or not.



Life is a waiting game. Waiting for what's around the corner.  Waiting for promises to be fulfilled. Reminding yourself each day to get up.  To breathe.  To pretend you're okay. Not cold. Not alone. Because your star could come at any moment.  Maybe.

But as the hours pass while you wait for the tiny streaks of light to get you through, it's hard not to wonder... When the morning comes and everything is illuminated...

Do I end up happy?



Carpe-ing the Diem

This year I accidentally made a resolution. In a conversation with a roommate I realized I had become too careful, too calculated with all of my decisions. Nothing new ever happened because I had become comfortable with the way things were. Not happy. Just comfortable. Wishing for things to be different but never doing anything differently classified me as insane (according to Albert Einstein's definition* of insanity.) Upon this discovery I vocally vowed to consciously step outside of my comfort zone more often... just to see what would happen.

 

She found a wall-hanging (the type of thing she and I would both have normally hated) that she bought for me which says:

 

Today is the day. Live your life with abandon. Be courageous and wild at heart. Be your own hero. Follow your dreams no matter how big they are. Fall in Love. Take time to appreciate the moments, for they will soon be memories. Be good to yourself. Be generous and truthful. Dance, sing and play no matter your age. Believe in your own power, strength and fortitude. Embrace new Possibilities. Make friends everywhere you go. Inspire someone. Be Brave. Take chances and be Spontaneous. Discover your gifts and use them wisely. Surround yourself with love, laughter and truth. Don't take it all too seriously. Forgive quickly and don't hold grudges. Seek Peace and Calm. Learn something new every day. Create Happiness. Laugh often. Enjoy the little things. Be gracious and kind. Smile at Strangers. We're on this journey together. This is YOUR LIFE... Make it Beautiful.

 

Typically any one of those phrases would have been enough to make me gag a little... but it definitely captures the essence of my goal for 2012. Stepping out and letting go.   

Just a few things I've done thus far:

- Spent a weekend in Vegas

- Got a tattoo (henna)

- Crashed a bonfire

- Got a phone number from a waiter

- Played the lottery (okay, someone actually bought me a ticket...)

- Learned first-hand that blonds don't have more fun

- Ran a 5k (which I've done before but this one was particularly awesome)

- Watched midnight showings on work nights

- Taken up the ukulele

- Had a caramel fight late at night

 

And many other things I don't need to mention but have meant a great deal to me. Hopefully many more to come! Maybe I'll toilet paper a house (don't tell my mom... I was never allowed to) or sing on a street corner. Maybe I'll have my heart broken. Who knows? But then, that's the fun of it, right?

 

*Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Winds of Grass (or Leaves of Change?)

I had a conversation with a friend about how they hate it when a band changes their musical style. How often when you talk about music do you or someone else say, "I only like their old stuff"?

It reminded me of a few bands that have been my favorites through the years and how they've changed. I love the changes, though. It shows that they've lived. They've had experiences... good and bad... that have altered the way they see and feel. Albums that were angry, edgy or careless have become more deep and meaningful. I'd like to think that I've changed, too.

Driving home from work the other day I became distracted by the medians on the freeway. I'll never understand landscapers in Arizona. They have a tendency to kill anything green. There were patches on the median where clearly the civil servants hadn't gotten to with the weed killer yet and I found myself thinking how beautiful it would be if they let the patches of grass grow in, rather than spraying them away.

What is it about being human that makes us so afraid of change? (Of course this was my train of thought while listening to an uncharacteristic Linkin Park song watching weed-filled medians go by. And thus this post was born.) I think what scares me the most is that no change ever comes with a return policy. I want to know beforehand how things will turn out. However, I also realize that nothing good can come if I pull out the Round-Up every time something green sprouts into my dull, brown, familiar world.

Resolution: Learn to welcome changes when they come. Each makes me a more interesting person, brings color into my life and makes my figurative songs mean a little bit more.
(How's that for sappy, eh? And some of you think I'm heartless...)