I'm Not Your Tinder-ella

It's been a hot minute since I blogged about dating, but tonight I couldn't pass up the opportunity to angry blog my latest attempt.

I have dabbled in Tinder, I will admit it. I have met only a couple guys in person and neither ended well. But, I just turned 30 and since I realized that I spent more years of my twenties going on zero dates than years I went on dates (seriously, how is that possible with so many years at BYU?! But I have always been like that; it has never been odd to literally go years without going on a single date) I decided I should actually try and make my 30's different.

(and in full disclosure, I did go on an actual date last week--not tinder related--so I guess I have broken my two year hiatus. But he hasn't said anything about another date and is really sporadic with communication so I'm not holding my breath)

This weekend I did a Tinder binge. That is obviously when you make brownie batter, but never cook it because that's too much commitment, and eat your way thru a bunch of terrible profiles while you contemplate the need for a life partner and how many facial piercing and tattoos are too many.

I matched with a few people, but am terrified and terrible at starting conversation, so I waited. A couple guys messaged me and then you have the super fun REALLY terrible back and forth attempt at conversation with a perfect stranger that you find mildly attractive and only know roughly five facts about.

One guy was more upfront and told me he hates texting (which I can get behind. I like texting simple/funny/informative things but I don't like to have long conversations) and wanted to call me. I gave him my number, we texted a little and then we ended up talking tonight.

Here's the thing, I am awkward. I don't date and have zero confidence in my flirting skills and am very uncomfortable with my weight/how clothes fit, how young I look, and that I have no idea how to come across as a 30 year old woman (i always refer to myself as a girl) with my looks or apparently demeanor. I'm not sexy, I am "quirky" as guys like to keep telling me. And yes, I realize deep down I am none of those things, this is not an attempt to fish for compliments.

The conversation was, for the most part, enjoyable. He is quick witted, funny and seemed genuinely nice, until he kept telling me how nice he was...If you have to tell me I will doubt you. He seemed respectful and wanted to meet me in person, which I had told him twice in text I would do next weekend when I am free (I am freakishly busy right now with work and family). Even though he knew this, he started pushing for tonight. He called me close to 10pm and kept pushing for now. I'm sorry, when was the last time a truly nice guy wanted to meet a girl for the first time after 10pm?

Never.

He also kept changing the story. He wanted to chat. He wanted to get to know me. He wanted to just meet me to see if we gelled. Then it switched to he wanted to give me a foot massage ("every girl wants a foot massage! That is what pretty ladies need, I am such a nice guy, all I want in return is conversation!") but don't worry, we would meet in a public place with lots of people! 

We live in Utah, no place on a Tuesday night has a lot of people...

I told him no over and over. I have an early flight, I am already in my bed with my cloths on because I was too tired to even change when I got home... He wouldn't stop. Finally I said, "look, if there is one thing you need to know about me, it is that I am fiercely independent and don't like to be pushed. You keep mentioning tonight and I don't want to leave, I can meet you in a week and a half." He denied pushing me, then brought up meeting again and then quickly said, "we both need sleep I am going to let you go."

I replied, "this feels like it ended really badly, its not that I don't want to meet you, its that I don't want to tonight."

After the 30 minute conversation came to an abrupt end he texted me twice quickly.

"i am going to leave you alone now"

"please delete my number"

I called him out on how weird this all was and that next weekend shouldn't be such a big deal. He replied that I shouldn't date if I don't have the time, it's not fair.

NO. It is not fair assuming a girl should come to you at the drop of a hat. 

The thing that pisses me off is that he repeatedly told me that he wasn't trying to sleep with me; that this was not a booty call. Call a spade a spade, if you want to sleep with someone say it up front, if you are caging about it they will end up hating you or you will end up pushing things too far and being rape-y.

It pisses me off that some women actually go for this type of guy. Okay, he is on Tinder so he obviously isn't the best at dating, but he has a plan that has been tried and tested. He tells girls they are pretty and that he want to give them a foot massage AND IT WORKS! Don't we have more self-respect than that? Am I so cold that I am the only one that has to warm up to touching people? And for the record, I do like physical contact, just when I like know your last name and maybe how many siblings you have and what type of pet you had as a kid.

I am also pissed off because this literally sums up my dating life. Most of the guys that have shown interest have been forceful with sex (luckily early on so I avoid ever going on a date with them and have not been pushed too far in person). Does this tactic actually work for them in real life? Do girls like being talked to like sex is their only gift to mankind? I grew up hearing that the way to a man's heart was thru his stomach, they didn't ask me if I knew how to bake! hahahaha

And lastly I am pissed because even though I tell myself that I am okay, that I am attractive and smart and successful--that I have things to offer and am a "catch" guys like this break me down and destroy my self-confidence. They don't give me the time of day so I start to assume I don't deserve it, that I am not remotely attractive and all of my good qualities are actually "quirks" that people find odd and not endearing. I know that I am not like other girls, I can't tell you what a fine wine is, I laugh too hard, talk too much, tell ALL the weird stories I shouldn't and would rather make you a pie from scratch than figure out how to be flirty. (in my perfect world I make a pie, show up to a guys door, "hi, I like you, here's a pie" and then they eat it and fall madly in love we never have to do the awkward game of do they or do they not like me and we refuse to actually talk about it because would make things weird--WHICH ISN'T TRUE BY THE WAY, TALKING IS GOOD!)

Whatever happened to normal speed dating? A guy asks a girl out, they talk about life, they maybe make out, they go on more dates etc. When did it start being about sex the first time you talk? Tell me I am intelligent and attractive before you tell me I am sexy. 

So here I sit, back at page one. Back waiting for a guy to text me who may or may not be interested but I can't decide because TEXTING IS THE WORST. Back to trying to get up enough courage to try "swiping" again. Back to trying to figure out how to convince the guys in my life that are resigned to being bachelors with their self-perceived problems no one could look past, that I am worth giving a shot.

I heard growing up that there is a reason everyone older is single. Now that I am here I get it. We all have major issues and the fact that anyone gets together--and some even get married--BLOWS MY MIND.

also, its super weird that my ex-boyfriend is dating an acquaintance so I see all her posts about him. In a way it is has been oddly good because they are so great together and he seems to be so good to her, it has given me a new faith in dating and humans. He was terrible to and for me but it has been so nice to truly realize that was just us being bad for each other and he is still the good guy I always knew he was.

See? Good guys exist and so therefore I should be able to find one...

one day.

Herkie-ing My Way to a Theater Near You

*edit* I started writing this post over a month ago. The film is no longer showing in Utah or Arizona but should hopefully come to a streaming service soon.

This past week I marked something off my bucket list: Have someone look you up on IMDB after seeing you in a movie trailer. 

Okay, so the person already knew me and the movie is currently only available in theaters in Utah, but still, I am counting this as a success! And of course I only have an IMDB because I made it myself (did you know you can edit IMDB with your Amazon login?!) but that is besides the point...

So, in honor of Tim Timmerman's Hope for America coming to a theater near you, here is the comical story of how I came to be cast in a 90's high school comedy as a cheerleader named Chasity.

A few years ago I met my sisters' friend Cameron while in LA. He is in the movie industry and created a hilarious short, She's a Fox (watch it here, its only 18 minutes and so good/funny) that was based on his first crush in elementary school and it starred Hailey Steinfield right before she got her first big break in True Grit. The short did well, winning The Best Short of 2013, and Cameron wanted to take another story from his life and create a feature film, the story about how he was quite possibly the worst Student Body President in Orem High history and was impeached. 

I talked to Cameron a few times about his film and told him I would love to work on it--meaning still photography or something behind the scenes. Then one day I was leaving Cafe Rio when I ran into him the parking lot. They had just started filming (April 2015) and he said, "You should come by, we need more people that look like they are in high school!" I just can't seem to out grow my girlish face...

A few days later I was participating in a 24 hour scavenger hunt with two of my friends. We were in the height of the competition when at midnight I got a call from an unknown number. I ignored it but then got a second call with a voicemail. It was from Cameron's sister and she said, "Hey Bethany, so one of our actresses missed her flight from LA and she is supposed to film tomorrow morning. The part is for one of the main characters best friends who is a bubbly high school cheerleader and we instantly thought of you! Call me back ASAP if you can help us out!" All I could do is laugh, no one, NOT A SINGLE PERSON, has ever called me bubbly or cheer material. But, putting that aside, I called her back and said why not, that sounded liked fun (and they wanted to pay me to boot).

The next day I showed up to a grocery store parking lot to report for my scene. From my 30 second conversation about my part, in the middle of the night, I assumed I would be in the background, you know, that friend that doesn't talk but is there to make the main person feel powerful and pretty. But then they handed me a script. And then they put in my mom jeans. 

At this point Cameron came on set and asked how I was doing. "Oh, you didn't know you had lines? Well have they gone over the dance with you? And you can do a herkie, right?"

Me: "What the hell is a herkie? And, you know I'm a Davis, we are not known for our dancing skills..."

Cameron: "I am sure you'll be great! And if it is terrible, it will probably make it more funny!"

Awesome.

I read over my two lines, had a quick seat in the makeup chair and headed in for my first ever stint in front of a camera. Once I got inside I found Cameron and asked him, "Do you want my glasses on or off, wardrobe didn't say anything," after having me take them on and off for him he asked if I had a preference to which I replied, "Well, the one wanders if they are off and I can't stop it..." to which he replied, "On it is!" We did a quick scene where I walk to the register with Mackenzie (antagonist in the film) and our other nameless friend and Mackenzie complains about Tim Timmerman. I give my two scents (lines) about Tim being good looking  and then we cut. Don't worry that in one of the takes I forgot my second line, "really?" and just stared at Mackenzie blankly waiting for her to say something... Yet, somehow, they thought I wasn't the worst and had me go to a second location to shoot another scene.

We went to a house to film a scene where Mackenzie and her boyfriend are watching a movie with their friends (me and another couple, always the third wheel even in my fake movie life) and then have a pool party.  While we were waiting to film I sat around with the other actors and chatted about how each person got involved. Person after person talked about their acting agency and how they had auditioned. When it got to me I awkwardly said, "Um, they called me last night and told me to come here..." All the sudden I realized that I was WAY more out of my element than I realized. I had zero knowledge of the movie industry and didn't understand at the time that because I had one speaking line and a name I was being paid more than other extras and could join the Screen Actors Guild if I wanted. And you can bet your ass if it didn't have yearly dues and a hefty upfront fee to join I would join SAG just to carry the card in my wallet.

The only time I have ever had my hair and makeup professionally done was to make myself look like a 90's cheerleader...

A few days later I was called back for my next scene. I showed up at the local high school where I was given the dreaded news, not only was I doing the choreographed dance but also the herkie. We (Mackenzie, actual high school cheerleaders and myself) quickly started going over a dance Mackenzie had choreographed. Let me be clear, I am not a dancer. I am that person that falls over at the gym if I am trying to copy the instructor in the mirror (this has literally happened more than once). Mackenzie tried to nicely tell us that things "needed tightening up" and finally I turned to her and the cheer-leading mom on the sideline and said, "Look, I have NO idea what I am doing. If I am doing something wrong you need to tell me in exact terms and not dance around it. You do not need to be nice, I know I suck." Once I got that out the mom was quick to correct me and it actually got better. 

Once we had the dance as down as it was going to get, we walked to wardrobe where we were handed identical outfits. I quickly turned to the stylist and said, "Emily, I thought we had discussed making sure I had an outfit that fits me, these are all the same size!" She turned to me without skipping a beat and said, "Yeah, about that, we didn't have any other sizes but that's why we bought you these shorts, because we know we will see your butt..." Thanks Em.... After I got dressed I asked about my shoes. With a look of horror Emily admitted that they had totally forgotten to get me any and proceeded to take off her too-big-for-me tennis shoes--that she had been standing in for 12 hours--and handed them to me.  

We walked out to the football field in front of the cameras and bleachers full of actors. We did a couple takes and I kept a pained fake smile plastered on my face to hide the fact that I still to this day cannot correctly do the running man or drop down to my feet and pivot (luckily you can only see part of my leg during this part, it was pretty pathetic--but in my defense I had a half torn ACL and eventually had to have surgery). Once we finished we jumped right into my herkie. I did a couple takes with the last one pulling my hamstring and then limped off set. I am classy like that.

The next night I was asleep when Cameron texted me at midnight to say "Just watched your herkie. So good!!!" A few minutes later I bolted up in my bed with the sudden thought, "oh crap, I wasn't wearing a sports bra!" Since they didn't tell me what I was doing that day I didn't think twice about what underwear I was wearing, now that is all I can think when I see the scene...

I had two other days of filming, one was a short scene in the school office while the other was part of the previous house party scene. In the end, half of my shots were cut--the entire house party and grocery store scenes. But, I can't say that I am sad that I have never had to see the footage of me roughly delivering my lines. 

In March of this year I got the following email from my sister "I hope you're in UT March 2nd for the Tim Timmerman premiere--there are two tickets with your name on them, Chastity. I hope you take a hot date" (she was involved in the finance of the film). So I did what any single girl would do and asked my unsuspecting neighbor to come with me. We had never spent time together outside of our offices and in hindsight, this was probably the world's most awkward first date hey, come watch me do a cheer-leading scene in a movie! Don't worry, I swear I am almost 30 and not a teenager! I told him that I had a brief role in the film when I asked him to come but he didn't ask what it was and apparently forgot. During the movie he would occasionally make comments (he went to the U and they have a few jabs at it) but then my part came and he didn't flinch or say anything. Afterwards I asked him what he really thought of the movie, he replied, "It was good, and it was cool that you had a family connection to it." I looked at him and slowly said, "And I was in it..." He looked so confused. He then asked what part and why I didn't tell him before it came up because now he needed to see it again. I told him I had mentioned it before and it seemed really weird to point it out in the theater but that if he really wanted to see it he could watch the trailer.

We got back to our offices to let our dogs out and I hear his office computer go on. Sure enough he was watching the trailer. It got to my part, he paused, pointed to me and said, "It is you!" He claims that I looked really different with my long hair.... I have longer hair now... but I guess I will let it slide.

And that is the story about the time I was in a movie that actually played in theaters. 

(To view my herkie in all it's glory, watch the trailer below)

Do I Look My Age Yet?!

Let's be honest, 2016 was THE WORST. Politics sucked (and stole my coping mechanism, reality tv, now when I watch all I can think is, "This could be our next president!"), people died--celebrities and family members, work was rough, I got dumped, my landlord hates me, I called the police more times than I can count, you know, the usual. I try to keep my yearly recap upbeat but I also think it is important to be real so I included everything worth mentioning. But don't worry, there are good things that are mixed among the unfortunate. 

In my 29th year:

I celebrated my birthday with my family, my co-workers, and my friends. 

On my birthday (at night so I didn't realize it until later) my house was robbed. It was completely targeted at me, made me feel uneasy in my own home, totally violated, and the cops did absolutely nothing.

I spent Valentine's with this kid and told him that if are both aren't married in 10 years we should get hitched. I also squeezed into my hot pink jeans which was a major feat.

I had my ACL replaced.

I started dating a guy that I had known for a few years but we had never been close until he started keeping me company while I iced my knee after surgery. We spent many hours eating all the pizza and tacos and watching Better Call Saul and Bob's Burgers (I'm not the most exciting person to date when I can't walk...)

I worked another session of LDS General Conference and this year we didn't get sweared at by any senior missionaries! 

Four of my siblings ran the Boston Marathon so I made the most out of my east coast trip by going to NYC, the marathon and then stayed with a friend outside Boston. And I won Best Sister of the Year award for making homemade chocolate pie in a hotel room. 

I flew to San Fransisco to spend the weekend with my sister.

I reconnected with three of my Freshmen friends in two days, two old roommates for breakfast and one guy to photograph his wedding (all wedding receptions should end with a fire pit and s'mores).

I planned my final event as Activities Director for my church. I used my super human talent to feed way too many twenty somethings on way too little money. 

I leased a warehouse for my businesses which is a HUGE deal.

I bought a shirt just so Milo and I could match and accidentally match my mom at least twice a month. 

I got dumped in the most heartless way possible and now he pretends I don't exist. 

I wrote a blogpost about being dumped because of religion and it was shared on a Ex-Mormon Reddit page and had thousands of views. The response was overwhelmingly positive and I received over 50 messages from people from all aspects of my life. If you are one of the people that reached out to me, THANK YOU, it really did mean a lot.

I attended my 10 year High School Reunion. It was weird. I had some great conversations with friends and I realized that the people I didn't like in high school I still don't like now... I also made Stephen take awkward prom pose photos since we somehow never went to a dance together.

I played Pokemon Go once and quickly became a statistic as a fell down a flight of stairs.

I was contacted by an ex-boyfriend--who has stalking tendencies and has been removed from my property by the police in the past--for no reason other than intimidation and to say hurtful things. I had to talk to the police more times that I can count as they searched for him to deliver a No Contact Order. They also checked on my property every night until I moved. He is the reason and I do not tell people where I currently live or answer unknown numbers. Because of him I had to tell my family that if I am ever hurt it was most likely his fault. This is not a position I want anyone in and if someone you know is dating a crazy person know that they probably want out. I didn't break up with him because I was afraid of him, everything that has happened has proved me right. But, people also did not take me seriously when I told them of my issues. Though I told men in my church that he was abusive and I had to call the cops, one man still asked me multiple times to meet with him (my ex) because he was having a hard time. I am sorry, I am the victim and you should NEVER ask me meet with my abuser. I also had one man ask to speak with me about the situation only to be asked multiple times if we had had sex and not "how are you doing, are you okay?" (to be honest, the part about telling my leaders at church was prior to 2016 but still, can we now all see how FRIGHTENING my ex is?!)

I convinced my co-workers to all put on metallic tattoos.

I booked a ticket to Europe on a whim to spend time with friends. After spending a few days in the Swedish country side I went to four other countries in one week by myself. I went from Stockholm (Sweden) to Copenhagen (Denmark) to Berlin (Germany) to Prague (Czech Republic) to Oslo (Norway). It was slightly nerve-wracking but amazing.

I moved into an own place, it totally fits my personality, is close to work and I love it--other than my landlord and slight mouse infestation. After my landlord said everything he shouldn't (mice aren't a problem, we wouldn't fix the hole they were coming through because "holes don't attract mice," I don't understand tenant rights, and that I was too angry/emotional for us to talk in person) I walked out to the porch where he was standing and replied, "You are right, I am angry, and do you know why? I STOPPED SLEEPING BECAUSE MICE RUN THROUGH MY WALLS ALL NIGHT AND THEN POOP IN MY SHOES!" If I was only wearing a bathrobe over my clothes I would have completed the crazy neighbor look quite nicely. Then, I went to City Hall, scheduled an inspection and needless to say they found almost a dozen infractions that he has to fix or pay a $50 a day fine. I don't know the law my ass...

I flew to LA to spend the weekend with my sisters. I won the Best Sister Award again for wearing my brother's way-too-big-for-me cowboy boots on the plane since they wouldn't fit in my carry-on. They accentuated my unicorn leggings quite nicely....

I had my first ever panic/anxiety attack. It was brought on by talks at church and things my ex said and implied about church. I haven't been able to go back since. It is obviously a much larger discussion than this post can offer. 

I made an Employee of the Month wall at my office to "class up the joint."

I spent the weekend with four of my sisters in NYC where we all stayed in the family room of my friends one bed room apartment. We ate all the food, walked all the streets, enjoyed a musical with a song and dance about Black Death, and did not shower once. We are crazy fun and crazy disgusting all at the same time. 

I voted for what I hoped would be the first female president.

I spent Thanksgiving in Tennessee with my sister and her family. I took each of my nieces and nephew out on a date, took everyone Christmas shopping, made pies, watched my niece in the Nutcracker, helped frame art for Sarah's new classroom, did facials, watched movies, and loved every minute,

I had the best sales month of my business career which (almost, its still up for debate) made the six straight weeks of doing nothing but working and sleeping worth it. One week I worked 75 hours by Friday night and it took me 4 days to have enough time to buy a gallon of milk....I literally live next to the grocery store.

I spent Christmas with my sister and her amazing in-laws and realized the beard potential of my hair.

I witnessed the most unusual New Years Eve's party that included: acrobats, drummers, one creepy puppet, lots of drunk people, exploding paint, a woman in a belly dancing outfit swinging a live parrot around, and my super confused friends.

And things that don't fit into a timeline:

I made lots of (tiny) homemade desserts

Loved on lots of babies and spent a lot of time with my family

Celebrated a lot of other people's birthdays.

Edited some crazy and funny things at work

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Spent time with friends.

And I debated if I should add this, but I spent--and still spend--most of my time alone.

I have always struggled to make (and keep) friends but this year was horrible. When I switched churches after I was dumped, not one person reached out to me. Multiple times when I texted people to invite them to dinner at my house they didn't acknowledge it. I sent people cards and packages and never heard from them. I asked someone to go on a trip only to have them respond with, "yeah, you should go on a trip!" I ask people to get together and they flake on me or give a vague response of how we should hangout "sometime" or they don't respond at all. This was from "friends" while with dating I was ghosted, dumped, and then terrified by three different guys. I even had a comment on my religious blogpost about how I will be single forever because I am selfish, this from a complete stranger. I know that this year was rough and I did not handle it as well as I could have, but it has been so much harder feeling like not many people want me around. Being the only single person in my family, moving to a new city, and having very few friends is super hard. I continually tell myself I don't want birthday parties or to go on dates or that I don't need people's help etc. because it is easier to fool myself than not have people show up. So, if you do actually like me, please spend time with me. The more time I spend alone the less fun I am to hangout with and more self concious I get, this is not a rabbit hole I should go down. And if I have a horrible personality flaw please tell me so that I can start making friends. And to those that have still checked in with me through out my crazy, I love you so very much and I wish we lived in the same city.

I understand how dramatic this sounds, but this year has been full of stress and loneliness and way more tears than I want to admit. I think we all go through this, but I think it is getting more isolating and damaging because of social media. We assume everyone else is having a great time doing fun things because of what they post. We see others constantly texting their friends; we can literally spend all of our time "connecting" with people through our phones and never actually have a connection. For someone like me who is not good at texting, doesn't know what snapchat is, and is detesting Facebook more each day people use it to spew hate, I don't want to only rely on the internet to feel like I belong to some community. 

This year, please be kind and spend less time on the internet and more time in people's actual lives. 

And to end my year, I got bangs and took one of my better selfies. I feel like I am finally starting to look older than 21...

Breaking Up (with religion) is Hard to Do

I recently posted on Facebook about my experiences with Tinder and of course it got more likes than an photo where I actually put on makeup or my amazingly perfect tiny homemade pie. I have become known for my dating stories--the bad, the awkward, the uncomfortable, but sadly never the good. Though I like to keep things lighthearted and focused on the ridiculous, one thing keeps happening to me that sucks and I don't know how to handle it. Just last week I stood on a windy corner in my neighborhood as I was told that Mormonism was black and white; the guy I was dating was standing on the white side and I was on the black. "Yeah, that sucks, but its only one boy," you say, but no, this is the third boy with basically the same exit.

(also, let's pause here. Did you catch the part about religion being black and white? Can we agree that it is NOT true and a pretty damaging assumption?  He said that you either do what you are told or you don't, thinking about things is inappropriate...We are all supposed to find out things for ourselves, wade through the gray and find the light. If someone thinks differently or isn't blindly following, they are not automatically on the "black" side.)

Now, getting dumped this time was not a total shock to me. The breakup was the world's longest, hovering at about two weeks--and religion--well I have known for a long time that I am much darker than most. But even though I knew this boy was going to break up with me because I, a very round peg, do not fit in the perfect Mormon square hole, it has not been easy. Being told that you are not righteous and doing things wrong--things that you know in your heart you cannot feel differently about, makes you feel pretty terrible and hopeless. Terrible that somehow this should make sense and it is unfair that it doesn't, and hopeless that you will ever find someone who wants to be with you. 

Here's the thing, in Mormonism there is a right way to do things, a very specified order of how and when. You are baptized at 8, if you are a boy you start on the priesthood track at 12, you don't date until you are 16, boys are expected to go on missions after high school, and then you get married in the temple. We believe heavily in personal agency, but sometimes I feel like we are so focused on how things are supposed to happen and the time frame that we forget that some people use their agency to do things differently or slower. I, am one of those people.

I am wrestling with major issues (like the church's recent policy that bans children with gay parents from being baptized and says homosexuality is one of the worst sins and can result in excommunication--among other issues). I want to be part of a church that embodies love and isn't so much about policies and orientations and laid out plans for when things should be done in your life. I want honest and sincere, nonjudgmental agency. And if you think that disagreeing with a SINGLE policy isn't a big deal, it is literally the sole reason I was dumped. Apparently it is not acceptable to disagree (meaning you feel like it is a crumby thing) with a policy even if you literally cannot obey or disobey it because you will never be a bishop and have the power to say if a person can get baptized...

photos by me, sometime in 2009

I spoke with my bishop about my dating situation during my two week break up. I asked him if it was wrong of me to date members of the church since I am not what the men are taught to want to marry (questioning things, feminist, not endowed, the list goes on...). He said that he loved having me there and that of course I was welcome and wanted, but he also told me that he would never counsel someone to get married outside of the temple (because I have doubts and don't think it is apprioprate to go with how I currently feel) and that IF I find someone who is similar to me that could work. IF is one of the saddest words to hear in dating. If I find anyone I am lucky, if I find anyone in Mormonism that is okay with my (lack of) beliefs it is freaking miracle. I understand that the temple is important, I really do. But, it is frustrating to feel like all my good qualities are null and void in relationships since I take the temple so seriously that I don't want to go before I am ready. It feels like we preach that church is for the sinners and people struggling, unless you want to get married and then you had better get all your crap together by your early twenties so you can take part in the MOST important part of the religion and get married in the temple. We believe in a God that is full of grace, that promotes agency, that wants us to find the answers, and that will always give you another chance. Why are we so hard on our members to be on a certain timeline?! And why is it so inappropriate to date someone who is totally active (and completely supportive of the partner in all aspects of the religion, even them attending the temple) but struggling? Is telling me I am wrong and a bad member supposed to help me become a better one?

I know I am not the only one in the church that feels like this, but I feel alone all the time. I feel like I don't fit in anywhere. Mormonism is all I know, its how I met 89% of all the people in my life, it is a culture and religion, it is my background and my foundation, and it is becoming my demise. It is becoming a lonely hateful place where good people are told they cannot be members, a place where boys won't date you longer than 3 months (let alone get near marriage) because they don't want to understand that people see things differently. Its a place where I cannot attend a wedding ceremony. It is a place where I cry in my bishop's office for wanting to date the good people I meet but knowing that they are taught to want more than me. It is a place of social stress and anxiety. It is also a place of God and music and laughter and friendship. It is a place that should be totally about personal decisions without the fear of being judged and ostracized. 

photo by me, sometime in 2010

I was once told that I care too much about people, that I want things to be fair so badly that it hurts. I think this is true. I want people to feel love and acceptance everywhere that at times it gives me anxiety. I'm that person that hates farmer's markets because I want to buy EVERYTHING to show the people that they are doing a great job and not being financially able breaks my heart. I buy homeless people dinner and talk with them about their lives because I want them to know that they are not alone and that I too had to call the cops on my last boyfriend (true story, that lady and I BONDED!) I even left a card for the boy that dumped me because I didn't want him to remember us from our last, horrible and misunderstood, conversation (also, in my defense, I was on steroids for my knee and roid-rage is real people!). I want everyone to feel loved because sometimes I feel so little. So little from the boys that have told me that I have the wrong relationship with God, that cheated on me or used me. So little from the bullies in public school, from multiple teachers that told me my work was horrible and I shouldn't even try. From roommates that made my life a living hell. These are things that are sad and hard, religion should not be one of them. We should support each other ESPECIALLY when things are hard and people don't understand. We should encourage people to find answers for themselves and not follow blindly. We should not only preach that you can think differently and still be accepted, but act on it. And we should help people and not toss them aside. 

Dating has been pretty terrible and adding religion has made is basically unbearable. It's a place where I never feel good enough, literally the only place in my life where I feel dumb. The only answer I have gotten through all of this--from having the most decent and all around good guy not want to date me because of religion--is that I need to break up with dating that is centered around religion. I want to date people because they are kind and funny and happy and hardworking, not because of their religion. I want to find value in others' beliefs and for them to respect my super confusing convictions. I want to love a person and not a laundry list of what they should hold near, dear and true. 

And yes, I completely understand that is not fair for me to date a guy who may feel like he might have to compromise some of his convictions (like possibly a temple marriage). I just wish their was a place for me and that guys could see the good qualities, the qualities worth fighting for, and work through the hard stuff with me. I am not saying that I will never understand more or want to go to the temple, I am saying that at this moment, I need a lot of help to get there and every guy has tossed me to the curb instead of ever asking me how they can help, let alone even talk about the subject with me. I wish that is was okay to be a confused soul and still find a good, decent, Mormon guy. But it feels like we push marriage so heavily that things are checked off a list early on and people are disregarded because they might not be "marriage material" in one aspect, on paper, at that one moment in time... Do we realize that it takes time to get to know people and what they are really like?!

I have been so beat down by dating that sometimes I forget that I am better than this. I am smart, strong, independent, witty, successful, artistic, musical, generous and even keeled. I am a decent cook, master baker of miniature sweets, a conversationalist and debater, organized to a fault and a great gift giver. Yes, religion is important, but so is being a decent human being that can see the value in all people. 

I will not change for anyone, but I would like the chance to grow with someone. 

It's not about hemlines

I was so disgusted when I saw this shared over and over years ago. Everything about this is what is wrong with our culture.

Today I read a somewhat popular/viral blog post about Modesty and Mormonism. I agreed with a lot of the points that the female writer had (we should never blame women for men's thoughts etc) but by the time I had finished glazing over the comments I realized we are missing the biggest point on the subject.

You can never be completely modest, and it encompasses so much more than clothing.

The concept of modesty has been warped to mean cap sleeve shirts and horrid knee length shorts. If you search the For the Strength of the Youth pamphlet, modesty is only mentioned once and it ONLY deals with clothing:

"Immodest clothing is any clothing that is tight, sheer, or revealing in any other manner. Young women should avoid short shorts and short skirts, shirts that do not cover the stomach, and clothing that does not cover the shoulders or is low-cut in the front or the back. Young men should also maintain modesty in their appearance."

Can we also notice that it doesn't give specifics for lengths? Why have we decided so black and white that it is the knees?! And, why are there no details for men? Why not mention low riding pants or wearing sleeveless shirts (and if you are guilty of those 'awesome' muscle shirts, just stop, they are not your friend).

The issue is, modesty is part of every aspect of your life. 

Since this post is about Mormonism and modesty, the Church's definition is:

Modesty is an attitude of propriety and decency in dress, grooming, language, and behavior. If we are modest, we do not draw undue attention to ourselves. Instead, we seek to “glorify God in [our] body, and in [our] spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:20; see also 1 Corinthians 6:19).

If we taught this definition of modesty we would not focus just on how women dress. We would talk about having a modest home (which let's be honest, maybe we don't because this is Utah where people love big hair almost as much as their big house), a modest attitude--modesty as a tool to glorify God. We would talk about a hundred things BESIDES clothes. And, if you think about it this way, modesty is something that you are always striving for. When you dwell on it being only clothing you stop thinking about it once your closet is full of "modest" options beacuse you are now a "modest" person.

Modesty has become a discussion on clothing that has also somehow morphed into sexual discussions which are quite possibly the most damaging thing that I listened to as a teen. I had lesson after lesson about how girls not only have to dress modest to stop boys from having impure thoughts but that they have to stop all unwanted/improper advances. This was a constant lesson, a lesson that said, "guys always want your body and are constantly thinking of sex, you are the gender that has no sexual desires. Your job is to keep the men in line until it is time to get married and then make babies."

Because of lessons like this I had a very twisted and horrible dating life. I always felt that I was not supposed to make advances and should wait for boys to be interested in me rather than it being an open discussion from both interested parties. Even when I was dating someone I never felt like I could initiate anything--even if we had kissed before and were clearly "an item" it was always the boy that should make the move. This broke me. I was in terrible after terrible relationship where boys treated me like I assumed I should be treated. I didn't actually acknowledge this was a huge problem until I was 25! I had been 'dating' for almost a decade!

In my opinion--that of a woman who went through 6 years of Young Women's and 10 years of Relief Society--we need to stop worrying about hemlines and simultaneously sexualizing and desexualizing our women. We need to teach independence, empowerment, and self respect. We need to teach that sex is not something to be feared but something we WILL all want. How can you expect people to have a healthy sex life when you teach them for years that it is the worst sin, that is until you have that marriage license in hand. Here's a noble thought, maybe we would encourage sex ed/health to be taught at home and not so heavily in church! We need to teach the basic, very basic, aspects of Christianity. We need to accept everyone and stop asking about their sexual history or orientation. We need to stop staring at the women in shorter skirts and be grateful they showed up. And most importantly we need to teach our men to respect women, regardless of how they look or their past, and not perpetuate rape culture. 

Why? Because we Mormons are too honest to illegally download porn. Obviously we have an issue of lusting after all types of women, the girls in your ward are the least of your worries...

Think of all the things we could teach if we spent those hours teaching about God or Christ or being a good Samaritan instead of drilling girls about which swimsuits are allowed at girl's camp and how to avoid the "door step scene" (I seriously had this lesson, because we were also apparently not supposed to kiss...) or the varying degrees of kisses (there is this super weird fruit analogy that is forever burned into my brain about the degree of french kissing) or talking about necking which NO ONE knows the definition of as a teen (or ever).

We need to strive to be modest.

We need to strive to be kind.

We need to teach the things that actually really matter.

And we need to stop giving a damn what other people are doing, wearing, or saying as long as it does not directly affect us. (and for that one guy that is going to comment: "but a woman dressing immodestly DOES affect me" i would say, unless her boobs pop out of her scantily clad shirt and physically accost you, if you avert your eyes you will be just fine, she did not actually hurt you.)

every pot has a lid

i bought the card, now i just need the guy to send it to.

Over the past few months I have thought a lot about blogging. Remember when I used to blog somewhat regular? Remember when I had funny NEW stories I hadn't already worn out? Yeah, me too, those were the good old days...

So I started thinking, "self, why are you so lame and can't think of anything to write?!" realized: 1. I don't leave my house super often and 2. I was in a horrible relationship that never seemed to end and therefore wasn't hitting my yearly quota of two perfectly awkward, blog worthy, dates. And with that, I realized I am only as funny as the people I hangout with and I obviously need to get out of my house more.

Technically I have been single for six months but it only feels like a few weeks and honestly has only been a few days of complete freedom. I think because of this super drawn out breakup (I made it clear we were done, but he didn't quite get the memo...) I had a hard time trying to relate to anyone let alone members of the opposite sex. Now I am free and feel fantastic (a friend commented just yesterday that i look the happiest she has seen me in months) i feel like it is time to jump back into that thing we like to call the dating pool, even if I only catch my semi-annual awkward date (which in all honesty, I am very over due for so halfway expect at least 5 in my near future). And this is where I come to my main point: how the hell does anyone find anyone to date let alone marry???

We all are bombarded with social media and see all our friends dating and getting married and getting remarried and having babies. For the most part, I get it. Then I see those people who are of the difficult type and i think, "how is it that you found your one in a million so fast?! I swear that I have at least a handful of options that could work--a lid to my wonky pot--but your pot only has 3 sides and doesn't hold water yet you found that ONE magical lid that fits? HOW DID YOU DO IT?! What pond are you swimming in?!" And yes, I realize I am not a unicorn in the dating world--a girl that is super hotttttt and not crazy. I do have some crazy and I do come with my own bag of issues but at least I have most of my life together and can hold coherent conversations.

i can bake, so maybe i should try it as a wooing tactic. right now i am just under the impression it tells a guys i am trying too hard. is it because i do weird things like make personal size cakes?!

So where is this magical pool where you find your match? Because I want to find it! I have grown up my whole life with people telling me it is church but I am beginning to seriously doubt these people. I mean, there are some great guys at church that I would LOVE to go out with, but I haven't figured out how to make that happen (to be completely honest, the last time I was actually 'asked out' was in 2012 by a guy on the New York subway. He turned out to be super creepy, surprise!) My sister Mallory would tell me that I just need to whip up a dessert, take it over and say, "um, I like you... here's a peach cobbler..." I will admit, she did have great success with this but I just can't grasp it. I also run into this horrible predicament of: I REALLY need friends (reference paragraph 2, I never get out and have been involved in crazy lately) so I am terrified of being an adult and saying, "hey I might like you, lets try going out" for fear they will freak out--because they aren't interested--and there sails our friend-ship. So how do I get these guys to man up and take me out? And when I say I am interested it simply means I am interested in seeing if we have anything in common, not I want to marry them tomorrow. I mean come on, I am the queen of the first date--not second date--they really have nothing to fear... I think that we are so afraid of commitment these days that we feel like we have to have our thoughts all put together on a person just to ask them out once.

maybe i should use this photo on tinder, see the wind wiping through my hair?! and my teeth look so straight!

Then there is the other social media idea that everyone and their dog has been throwing my way as a legit dating service: Tinder. And let me just get this out, "TINDER TERRIFIES ME!" For one, I get super stressed at the idea that I cannot move on to a new profile until I decide yes or no on someone. What if they really are a nice guy but they decided to put a lame tagline like "I promise to make you laugh?" Sir, I make myself laugh, you don't have to provide the service like it's rarity. And then there is my profile, you only get like 500 characters to describe yourself. I have been running this blog for years and it isn't done describing me! Once you get past the profile editing and the swiping you get to the match and chat option. I have only ever replied to two types of messages on any web dating platform: the messages that are so off or weird that I have to set a person straight (then promptly delete them) and the one time I found a long lost friend on Tinder, we reconnected and it was great. All those other messages that start with "run away with me," or "hey beautiful" make me want to vomit in my mouth and change all my photos to dogs with mustaches or unicorns pooping glitter so they will never think of me as a match.

And so here I sit, desperately wanting to meet guys that are normal and boringly stable--that think I am funny and hopefully a little bit attractive-- but not having a clue how to do it. There are slues of guys who are in their late twenties/early thirties in my area but I just can't seem to crack them. Perhaps it is because I am that girl that when nervous becomes annoyingly chatty in large groups when a guy I am crushing on is present or because I don't understand texting and how it relates to dating. I end latching on to texting as a legit form of communication (which it isn't) in a last ditch effort to win them with my wit and end up overwhelming the poor lads. And, no one knows exactly how to read interest levels in texting. I don't know how much you normally text! I don't know if that supposed to be funny or serious! I don't know the appropriate amount of time to wait before replying so you won't think I'm clingy and/or desperate! I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO THINK OR HOW TO READ IT!

The moral of my story: let's go on a date! Or, if you are one of those people that is flooding my feed with photos of you and your perfect fitting lid, set me up with your friends! Even if the only reason is "hey, he is single and YOU are single so naturally this should work" because at least I will get some much needed blogging ammo out of it. And dinner, tell them they HAVE to buy me dinner. Or they can take me to the nicklecade because sometimes that is much better than the food I have been fed on dates.

27 going on 17

For years i liked to do a year review on my birthday--which is oh so convenient since my birthday is in January--but this year i decided to change things up. I have noticed lately that people don't seem to know things about be that i thought i tell everyone. So... this year we are doing the top 27 things about me.

1. Lately, i have been desperately trying to figure out how to look like an full-fledged adult in their late twenties. I have tried wearing lipstick, for real hairstyles, stilettos, non-costume jewelry, and even the daily dose of makeup. It hasn't helped in the slightest. Just last month i was asked how old i was when my sister was buying movie tickets for her kids, THE KID AGE IS 12! This trumps when i was asked if i was old enough to sit in the exit row of an airplane when i was 23 (you have to be 15) or when TSA asked if i was a minor when i was 25. Needless to say it also has totally thwarted my dating life because all the guys i would be interested in are around 30 and are not interested in the barely legal.

2. I sleepwalk. It doesn't happen every night but it does happen. I do it the most when other people are awake and i slightly interact with them in a very creepy non verbal way with lots of hand motions.

3. When i was 19 i ran a bed and breakfast in Nauvoo, Illinois. It was not the ideal establishment and
very poorly run, but it did fulfill a life long dream of being involved in a B&B.

4. Speaking of B&Bs, my new life goal is to save enough money to open my own by the time I am 30. It combines all my odd talents (cooking, organization, business, design, being ocd with details, cleaning) with my insane collection of kitchenware. I have wanted to do this for a decade and i finally decided, why not now?!

5. My sister's refer to my closet as the Bernstein Bears Closet because it creepily mimics their book on organization. I hate closet doors and if my bedroom has them i remove them, it is always the space in my house that is the most esthetically pleasing.

6. I have never been especially good at learning languages except for counting. For years i would count my steps in French, mostly when walking in parking lots.

7. I spoke at my college (BYU) convocation ceremony. I talked about why i am an artist and of course included a smattering of childhood artwork including a piece i entitled, "Girl Dinosaur in a Purple Bra." The administration wanted me to remove it from my PowerPoint because it made them
'feel uncomfortable,' but i of course didn't.

8. I only wear glasses because i have one lazy eye. I can't control its wandering and since most people find it unsettling when you are only looking at them with one eye, i wear glasses. Contacts aren't an option since they won't correct it.

9. I have never been able to picture myself as being married or having kids. This doesn't mean that i am not interested in it, just that i have never planned my life around it or gone into that completely normal phase of life where i am depressed that my eggs might dry up before i finally find a non-crazy counterpart. Even as a kid i knew i wasn't the marrying young type since i once wrote in my journal, "when i'm married, or thirty..."

10. One of my life goals is to be involved in an episode of the radio program This American Life.
Surely they have to find the story about my dad stealing a B-17 bomber as a teenager radio worthy. And if they prefer something about dating, like how a boy broke both arms while trying to flirt with me, i got that covered too.

11. I have a lime addiction. I most likely consumed over 200 limes last year alone.

12. I worked at BYU Recycling in college and drove a forklift daily. I once had a palette of around 20 bricks of crushed pop cans dropped on me by an incompetent coworker which sliced my arm in three places causing blood to run down my arm and off my hand.

13. I have been to: Mexico, Canada, France, Belgium, Holland, Thailand, Cambodia, Japan, New Zealand, and Australia.

14. In the four months i lived in NYC i: lost all my money to the IRS, stayed in six different places, had nine visitors, saw six broadway shows, and survived Hurricane Sandy by fleeing to Philly an hour before the all trains stopped running.

15. I have had surgery on my: eyes, tonsils, wisdom teeth, hip, knees, and ankle. I have also: dislocated an elbow, dislocated a hip (which i walked on for a week at age 10), broken my wrist, knocked out two teeth and had two head wounds.

16. When i was ten i was in a flash flood with five of my siblings while hiking in Northern Idaho. We walked for five miles through--at times--waist deep ice water. We all admitted to peeing our pants because it kept us warm for .475 seconds. I was one of the few that didn't hallucinate but i do think i had mild hypothermia and frost bite.

17. I think i am hilarious.

18. I board-fold (the method retail stores use to uniformly fold clothing) all of my sweaters. I however don't own a board so i use my MacBook Air which is about the same size. So i guess you
can call it computer-fold...

19. I don't spend one dollar bills. It started in high school as a way to prevent myself from blowing what little cash i had in vending machines etc. and so i would have some money to put towards high ticket items like an iPod. I started it up again a few years ago and now call it my Wedding Dress Fund. When i lent it to my sister last year i naturally weighed it first, it came in at just over 4lbs. I think the clerk at the bank thought i moonlighted as a stripper...

20. I was in an opera choir in elementary school. I remember being a street urchin in Carmen and in the children's chorus in The Nutcracker.

21. My more memorable dates have involved: walking three miles barefoot on a river trail, a boy telling me he "usually likes to meet people by the Taco Bell in the Student Union Building," a boy that made up his own name, a boy that never told me his real name, a boy accosting me at every chance asking if he could smell me (he once said, 'you smell so good, you smell just like my grandmother's house' WHAT?!), eating spaghetti covered in cheddar cheese with a set of twins at their house (standing, not sitting at the table) before one of them took me on the rest of our date; I still can't tell them apart, and much, much more.

22. I love coffee table books and request that everyone who comes in my house reads All My Friends Are Dead.

23. I talk to at least one of my siblings every single day. I think we are hilarious and one of the best families to hangout with. We rarely fight, always make fun of each other, are constantly lending money, eat lots of food and quite often make inappropriate jokes. 

24. I am a note writer. I send cards for no reason, love to make heinous valentines, send obnoxiously long emails to boys who i want to date (not all boys, just the select few and i swear its not as creepy as it sounds), wrote 20 missionaries while in my early 20's, send random packages, and seal every single written correspondence with wax.

25. Secretly, my plan is to find a nice normal guy that only has a couple siblings so that when we get married i have a legit chance at winning Best In-Law. If there are only a few children it also ups the chance of maybe getting to go on parent-funded family vacations.

26. When left to my own devices, when others won't judge my choices, i watch terrible reality tv like The Real Housewives of New Jersey, Extreme Cheapskates, Teen Mom etc. All of them make me feel super good about my life. I have so much more going for me that most of these people, try it, its a real self-esteem boost. 

27. I have a decently large record collection. I started collecting them not because it is the cool hipster thing to do or because the sound is superior (i know its not), but because i love music and if i put a record on i listen to the whole thing and can't be ADD and change it after each song. It is one thing that makes me slow down and disconnect from technology which is slowing taking over my life. I blame my iPad, or Netflix Machine, as my brother calls it.
My birthday present to myself this year was The Forrest Gump Soundtrack on vinyl.

And your bonus for making it to the end?

My first ever photo where i look like benjamin button with lobster claws. 

You are so very welcome.

my mojo, its back.

like this awkward encounter. that boy threw me in a pool fully clothed once too AND then took me on a hilariously terrible date.

Lately i realized something horrible--my dating life has been off more than normal. I used to think that it couldn't get much worse but then i realized that no matter how unfruitful my dates were, they were at least HILARIOUS. This fact has gotten me through the last decade of dating, i always know that if i can't count on the guys i am attracted to asking me out i can sure count on a good story from the other ones!

Then this last year my dates started to not be hilarious but instead down right depressing. I actually 'dated' more guys than ever before but i also had: two boys that didn't really acknowledge that i moved across the country while we're dating (not at the same time, one when i went to nyc and one when i came back), one boy that kissed me and then conveniently 'forgot' that he knew me when we were in the same room, one boy that kissed his ex (two days in a row) while we were dating, and a boy i have been enamored with every since we met confess his undying love (i'm going to word it like that because it sounds more dramatic and makes me seem way more awesome) for me while i had a boyfriend and then when i was single again we went on one super awkward date and he 'remembered why he didn't ever date me in the past.' WHAT THE HELL DOES THAT MEAN? After that final blow i felt pretty awesome, but in the sarcastic not fun way...

I was out of my groove, my encounters with boys were no longer funny and very much sad.

Then i went to family home evening a few weeks ago in my singles ward (a monday night activity with the people that go to my church).

We were playing a game of basketball and me with my stellar skills did the only thing i know to do: run in circles around the court to tire out the poor sucker that is assigned to guard me and to keep one less person near the basket and therefore more accessible for my teammates.

After i successfully tired out my opponent he began chatting with me about how fast i am. I may not run marathons like my siblings but i can still sprint across a gymnasium like my limber elementary self.

"Man, you are so fast, but i bet i could beat you. We should have a race sometime!"

"Okay, how about now?"

With that we lined up against the back wall, just two people ready for a friendly contest. As a fellow girl yelled "Go!" we took off. The race lasted a mere few seconds as both of us flew across the room. I could see him gaining speed so instead of slowing down when i was a few feet from the wall i maintained speed and busted through the right side of the double doors (and yes in hindsight i know this was a very bad idea, if anyone was in the hall i could have killed them. But no one was there so i'll claim it was a good idea from here on out). I assumed he would aim for the left door...


but no.

this is why i have that other blog

He ran full speed into an exposed brick wall.

He did not slow down.

He did not jump into the wall with one foot.

He ran straight in to it,

and broke both arms.



With this, i feel like i am back in the swing of things. I am back to being the girl that boys do ridiculous things around that end up on a blog. Well played sir, well played.


oh and in case you were wondering, i won the race.

you're only 24 once

I've always really enjoyed having my birthday at the beginning of the year; it makes it super easy to remember how old i was when something happened and keeps everything tidy with my age changing almost in sync with everything else. Because of this, i use my age to judge everything.

like if it is Feb. and i am single--say last year--i know that i will not get married until i am at least 25 (being this year).

or when i say that i want to accomplish something in 2013 i know that i will accomplish it while i am 25.

see? everything is simple.

And since today is my birthday eve, i figured i should reminisce what i learned/did during my year of being 24.

I:

finally have documented proof of how terrifying it is to go bowling with me (and equally dangerous).

caught my third bouquet at a wedding (third times a charm, right? RIGHT?!)

after 8 months of preparation i had over 300 images on display in my BFA final show, 

Tithing Child: A Photographic Memoir

after what felt like a million drafts of my speech were approved--i spoke at my college's convocation ceremony and showed the campus (for the 3rd time) images of my sister giving birth...

learned that i have a problem am the champion of holding grudges against past boyfriends that were asses 

(still working on that, but lets be honest, we will never be friends. ever)

survived the great disneyland flash flood of 2012 (okay, it was just horrendous rain...) while being trapped on small world--now lovingly know as 'the slow-moving torture device from hell.'

started a blog about awkward dates--probably because of that date with that kid that made up his own name, wanted to take me 'fast food shopping' for dinner, and told me about himself using his kindle since he 'forgot his book of photos that he normally uses'.

moved to manhattan--and then kept moving around manhattan--again and again and again...

figured out that peanut butter balls don't have to be boring balls, they can be dinosaurs!

(and filled with chunks of reese's holiday treats...)

went through a hurricane unscathed.

went out on a date with a Turkish American that met me on the subway and thought i was russian.

(of course there are no photos of that...)

figured out what type of guy thinks i am their type: non-white and non-mormon men

(and if i had photos of the guys who hit on me in Harlem or on Canal Street, well, that would just be weird... creepier than the comments they made to me...)

slept on 5 different couches and in 14 different beds in 5 different states in 5 months.

met dan lauria who plays the dad on my most favorite show of all time, The Wonder Years.

gave uncle sam all my money after a tax blunder

went to six broadway shows

graduated from college and got this cool piece of paper as a 'well done, kid'

ate an entire pack of Hebrew National hot dogs in one week in all sorts of interesting culinary masterpieces.

lost the ten pounds i gained when i was dating tucker

succumbed to Pintrest. i say i did it for work purposes but let's be honest, i secretly want to make little crafts and take photos of my fingernails (which two people at the mall today were convinced were fake, they look that perfect and pink right now...)

and i still don't have any followers, so you should help me out so i don't feel like a failure at something so very simple...

'ran' my first ever race

joined a very sketchy dating site that i am pretty sure is only good for hooking up and not falling love.

had the most drawn out graduation ever. 

walk in april

walk/speak in august

actually graduate in december

finally have my name in the program in april of 2013

wore pants to church for the first time (but not the last if it stays so bitterly cold in utah...)

oh and one thing i didn't do was buy a tripod...still...

i have a bfa in photography, that doesn't mean i NEED to have a tripod, right? RIGHT?!

and here's to 2013. 

It has had a rocky start but it can only go up from here. 

I unpacked my kitchen and most my room, that is a HUGE improvement in my life already.

(did i ever mention that i didn't know i had my own birthday until i was probably 6 or so? I always thought that mallory and i had the same birthday because mallory and my dad shared a birthday, my mom's was 4 days later and then mine was 11 days after that so we celebrated once for all of us. This probably is the reason why i always wished mallory was my twin growing up...)

"damn girl, you be lookin' fine!"

welcome to the blog post that i should entitle: picture texts from dressing rooms/bathrooms that i send to my sisters to get approval/applause. 

(but really it is about the random boys in manhattan that think i am the cat's pajamas and say so with less correct grammer and more enthusiasm)

this one time i went to a franternity ball

My time in the big apple might be pretty rough at times, but i will give it one thing, new york convinced me that i got something going on in the strutting-my-stuff department.

We all know that my dating life leaves something everything to be desired. That is why the Me tab of my blog reads like it does (which you should read and give feedback) and why i have that other blog about dating. It wasn't until i moved to nyc that i realized what my problem has been:

white mormon boys are not into me.

You would think this might get me down--i mean it does in the sense that i still feel little hope for my dating life once i get back to utah since it is both very mormon and very not ethnic--but right now, in this instance, it makes me feel awesome.

I was recently at a mormon party in the upper west side of manhattan where a boy i had never met was chatting with me. He asked which church building i went to and when i replied that i go the Harlem one he looked at me like i'm crazy and don't know the city well.

"why would you go to that one? The lincoln center building and ward are sooo much better!"

"but no one on the lower west side tells me, 'damn girl, you are lookin fine today!' when i am walking to the lincoln building in a dress and heels."

I don't think we are on the same page.

But seriously, when i need a self esteem boost i head to Canal Street or Harlem in some heels, it has yet to disappoint. Also, it is different than the cat calls from construction workers in the west, these guys don't try to get your number (okay i take that back, the guy at Home Depot tried to get me to take him to lunch and offered to come measure my shower for a remodel...) they just want to let you know that they think you are smokin and then they, and you, move on with your day.

I know that i am not a terrible looking human being, but i also realize that you have to work at things more than a little bit to help what the good Lord gave you. We can all remember my post that contained dozens of blackmail-style photographs chronicling my life. I think we can all agree that when i realized that makeup can be a kind friend, that hair is something that should not be cut to mimic a bowl, and there is clothing out there for every body type, i started looking a whole lot better. Though i like to think that i make most of these things work to my advantage, i have still never been one of those girls that boys flock to or tell how pretty they are. But new york, bless it's soul, has done that.

okay, sometimes it is true, sometime i don't dress cute. luckily i usually leave it in the dressing room...

I will admit that a lot of it is in the outfit. One day when i wore a hot pink dress with teal high heels i had at least 10 guys on one stretch of Canal Street tell me that i was beautiful and even offer me discounts at their stores. But then again, yesterday a guy said 'hey beautiful' right as i passed and i was covered head to toe in bulky clothing because it was 30 degrees (okay i take that back, i was wearing a coat but it was the leopard print MadMen jacket from Banana Republic...).

The best though, was an encounter that happened right before the hurricane.

The feeling of severeness of the hurricane went from 0-10 in the matter of a couple hours. I had a friend visiting from Utah for the weekend and when we woke up we decided to go running in central park (which of course meant that he ran in the park and i ran to William Greenberg's to buy the best black and white cookies in the city...). There were quite a few people out and it seemed like a normal day. Then i got numerous texts about how the city was shutting down the subway at 7pm in anticipation of the storm. Then my friend got a message from Delta that they canceled his flight for the next day...

Suddenly we were in panic mode.

We hurried back to the apartment, showered, packed up our stuff, jumped on the train and headed to the airport to get him on any flight that would take him out of the city. After we succeeded at getting him on a flight to Atlanta--no where near SLC where he wanted to go--i started trying to figure out what i was going with myself during the storm. I had only a few hours until the subway was shutting down and could either stick out the storm at my friend's house or head out to PA to stay with my sister. I opted to stay in new york but the girl i was staying with said they wouldn't let me in the door unless i had sufficient supplies so i headed to Trader Joe's so grab some water and a little food to add to my current stash.

i bought this coat specifically for nyc

I walked in and the store was relatively dead so naturally i took the chance to use their restroom--which are hard to come by in the city. I stepped out of the bathroom only to find that 100 people had flooded the store in those 3 minutes. Being completely overwhelmed by the craziness i quickly decided that PA was my option.

Now i was left with less time and I had to go back uptown to the apartment i was staying at, collect my things, grab some dinner, and make it to Penn Station downton while trains were still running out of the city. Needless to say i was running around like a man woman, my hair in a loose wet braid, no makeup, and i wearing a stylish outfit of jeans and a raincoat. As i flew down the stairs in one of the subways a boy stopped me. I assumed he needed directions since people everywhere looked confused about the subway shutting down.

"are you Russian?"

the raincoat. now imagine wet hair and no makeup.

Apparently he didn't need directions. When I said no he quickly asked if i was Polish. I looked rather puzzled and told him that i grew up in the west. Chuckling he said, "ah yeah, i can tell now from your accent, you are definitely American."

Then he continued, "well anyway, you have this great natural beauty (i think that was the polite way to say that i wasn't wearing makeup or fitted clothes) and well, the hurricane has made me realize that life is short. Do you want to grab coffee after the storm passes?"

and sometimes i just wear outfits/accessories that are just plain cool. right? RIGHT?

That's right ladies and gentlemen, the only date i have been asked out in nyc happened on the subway because someone felt their impending doom because of a looming natural diaster.

Moral of this long tale: he is neither Caucasian or mormon. And in case you are wondering if he followed through on his plan, he did text me during the hurricane and then called me last night to see when we can go out.

Someone find an ethnic boy in utah stat. You have six weeks until i return.

north dakota: never gonna happen.

If there is one thing we all know about me, its how terrible i am at dating. I was recently kinda dating someone in Utah but then i up and moved to the big city and he has sent me all of two one-line texts (no calls, no emails) in the last five days, so i assume it is safe to say that we are over and he doesn't really care to date me when i come back in January (don't you normally at least check to make sure they made it?! other random boys from utah did that...). Now i am in NYC--chilling at my friends apartment while her and her roommates are out of town--trying to find some friends a place to live. Currently i am striking out on both counts but that's not stopping me!

So i am not completely friendless, I have three. Allison--my dear friend who has been so kind to let me sleep in her couch, Jacob--a good friend from back home, and two boys that graduated a year before me in the photo program (but i don't have either of their numbers right now so they only count as one person together, but we are going to get together soon for dinner).

While i was on the phone with Jacob last night--trying to figure out when we can get together-- he told me this:

"you should try out okcupid.com, its a free dating site and it would help you meet people in the city. If you need a testimonial ask my friend. She wasn't getting asked out by the Mormon guys either and then she found this great Jewish guy on there who took her out on a lot of dates. After two months she realized that she didn't really like him romantically but it sure boosted her self-esteem in dating!"

And so to my own chagrin, i got on the site yesterday to check it out. I also decided that if someone does decide they want to ask me out, at least i get a free dinner out of it, and well, being an unpaid intern means i make the trek to Costco and then carry large boxes of food on my birthing hips back to the city... free food is so very tempting...

After looking over some of my results from the site i can't decide if i should be ashamed or amused.

First of all, WHY WOULD IT SUGGEST THAT bdavis_taco IS A GOOD ALTERNATIVE?

nothing screams "Date Me!" quite like throwing tacos into your username.

bdavisinabox also makes me sound super lame. i love being in a box.

Then i got this email. If you have ever talked to me about where i want to live when i grow up, i always answer the same "anywhere but the Dakota's because i choose to believe they don't exist."

The one person in all of Okcupid-dom that is the highest match to me must be the only person in North Dakota that is on the site.

Also note that Utah didn't even show up as number one, apparently i am more pure than average but not even enough for good old Utah. New York is no where on the list so i don't know that i will have any success out here...

and should i be worried that the US didn't show up on this list???

then after answering some questions this chart comes up. I think it is hilarious that in Utah everyone tells me how 'hipster' and independent i am, yet on here i am far from Indie or Independent...

This chart makes me look super lame and like a 60 year old trapped in a 24 year old body...

This seemed a little more accurate. my favorite lines in it are:

"...you are very choosy with your affections..." 

(no, i've never been called 'prickly' before... haha)

"You'd absolutely refuse to date someone dumber than you..." 

(damn right)

"babies do too (have a special soft spot for me) at the tippy-top of their baby skulls" 

(i am the best aunt, they love me)

And that my friends, is the current status of my dating life. If you know normal boys in the Manhattan area, send them my way. But make sure that he knows that he needs to buy me dinner. I am even good with a $6.25 burger from the Shake Shack, no need for anything fancy. 

i still have friends?!

when i look like this you might want to hack into my blog and change the password until i recover.

I just re-read a bunch of my blog posts and the general consensus: how it is that i still have friends?! Seriously people, the next time i am a hot mess for so many months, please, PLEASE, douse me with a bucket of water (or lemonade, i really love lemonade) and tell me to snap out of it.

Sure, the last dumping i received sucked a lot, but what was i thinking? If the boy wasn't interested in dating me in November he sure as hell wouldn't be interested four months later after multiple ranting blog post (forget the letter, emails and one scathing text--all with purpose, i don't just contact exes out of the blue...).

For all of you that lasted those months--still hanging out with me and reading my blog--karma has something good in store for you. Or if karma takes too long to pay you back you can venture on over to my adorable abode for a home cooked meal because, well, you are a saint and deserve it.

And because of that, i decided that i need to cleanse my blog with some new topics.

For the record, this post will be written in less than 1/2 hour (most take me hours, yes hours--lots of proof reading and rewriting though you probably wouldn't notice due to my intense lack of spelling/grammer talents) and it is past 10 o'clock at night which might as well be the wee hours of the morning for me. All of this just to cleanse my blog palette.

Though i don't have time to construct a witty essay of my latest awkward encounter with the male species, showcase photographs of my latest project, or read to you from my childhood journal where i could spell EVEN fewer words correctly, i do have time to mention what is coming in the future.


This blog will soon contain:

Comparisons of: The Biggest Loser, Teen Mom, and Real Housewives of New Jersey. How are they related you might ask? They all make me feel like a million bucks because I am not: 400 lbs, a teen, a mom, and totally classless. I might (meaning i will, of course) reveal just how crappy my taste in television is and yet why i judge all other human beings to no end for their choice of media.

it is softer than a babies butt

How i am going to land myself a trust fund baby in the big apple. I am moving to NYC at the end of the summer and Gossip Girl has been kind enough to teach me the ropes. It also taught me that buying a leather jacket that full price was more than my rent was a good idea (no, i did not pay full price). Could it be possible that crappy teenage dramas are influencing me to make terrible decisions?! Tell me it ain't so! They are only full of moral examples and teach you how to be an upstanding individual!

typewritters are so hip right now. i had one before hipster's realized it was cool...

The reasons i am not on Pintrest. It probably has to do with the fact that it would be equivalent to giving a crack whore crack (or a brothel?). And did you know that i am just as cool as everything on Pintrest? Oh just you wait, this post will be full of photographs that PROVE i am right. I am the right mixture of Martha Stewart and hipster, i'm going to coin it Stewster.


AND:



that i am starting a new blog and need your help. Currently all i have is the blog layout (the tandem photo shoot is coming this weekend!) but at least its a start. Alone on a Tandem will be submission only blog dedicated to awkward dates. Start bringing back those dates you repressed all those years ago and share them with me. I will photo illustrate them and put them up for all to enjoy/sympathize.

it will also probably have some incriminating photos and possibly a few stories from my childhood like the infamous Loon Lake flash flood where everyone peed their pants and hallucinated.

Until then...

i may have a lot of talents, but dating isn't one of them

on my rooftop reading. only took me 4 years to finish that book...

Lately i have been in an unpleasant funk. A couple months ago i got dumped, which of course sucked, and after i spent a couple weeks being a hot weepy mess i had to spend all my time of my BFA show. After my show went down, suddenly everything that i didn't have time to deal with came back.

I made a rule for myself sometime ago that i would never be allowed to dwell on an old boyfriend for longer than we dated. This means that this week is the last week i get to spend feeling sorry for myself over my last failed relationship. Over the last few months i have had my run ins with my ex. The run ins wouldn't be so bad if i didn't have this awful talent of saying things that i shouldn't that make conversations awkward or sending way too long of emails that probably make me look like a crazy person. But then again awkward conversation is bound to transpire when you are at a party checking a text when you suddenly get bombarded with the most intensely happy hug from your ex. So did not see that one coming last night... you can imagine how sellar my conversation was after that...

I also have this other issue, a lot of times i feel pretty friendless. I partly doomed my social life be choosing to live alone, but still, my apartment has never been so lifeless as it is right now. I think this partly has to do with the fact that i hate the ward i am in for church. I can go to church for three hours and only talk to 5 people and have someone sit by me for only one of the three meetings. lame. However, i do realize that this is partly my fault. I am not very good at meeting new people.

Anyway, there is a point to this rant. It is at times like this, when God gives me little reminders that i am kinda cool and all is not lost. Kind of like how he made it sunny last week because I am pretty sure i was experiencing the winter blues more than being lonely.

Life is gold because i was reminded that:

~Reading on your dilapidated rooftop is very nice, even if you have to crawl out a window-over your handmade Longaberger pillows-to get there.
~It is impossible to not dance when listening to Arcade Fire's 'Haiti' on vinyl (i just have to watch for the sweet spots in my floor that make the record skip...)
~It is possible to make Peanut Butter Balls in other shapes besides spheres, like dinosaurs for instance.
~It is impossible to make a recipe from Martha Stewart that does not taste awesome.
~Even pies that look like animals drowning in a tar pit are delicious.
~Losing five pounds means that all of your pants fit so now you have 10 pairs instead of 1.
~Spring cleaning can be rewarding when you de-clutter, exchanging crap for your computer for a creative vase of photo props.
~When dating seems impossible you can reread your BFA sign in book where someone wrote 'I want to open mouth kiss you'-there is always someone out there...
~When you have a black and white checkered floor you only have to Magic Erase the white squares.
~You can fix an old Polaroid with a hypodermic needle and some watered down glue (i secretly love sticking things with needles).

this makes me look like i know how to bake pies unlike the ariel view above... and this was my first pie. ever.

and last but not least:

~Though i might think that i am doomed when it comes to dating, I am not completely inept.

On my last date i was not the one wearing a 'Chuck Noris is a Cougar Fan' shirt tucked into my jeans. Or the one that said that i forgot my book of questions to ask someone when you first meet them, oh or the picture book that would explain who i am. Or the one that mashed my first and middle name together so that it would be unique (or sound like you were raised in Utah). Or the one that thought that going Fast Food Shopping is a good idea for dinner.

yup, i now feel a little better.

and for my final rant about my last relationship: he is a photographer that never photographed us/me. He is a musician who never asked me sing with him. He is a connoisseur of fancy foods who never made a fancy dinner for/with me. He is a blogger/writer who never said/wrote a word for or about me or read my blog. He is an outdoorsy man who never went camping or any kind of road trip with me. And last but not least, there is absolutely nothing in my apartment from him-no cards, no flowers, no objects of any sort-nothing.


oh wait, i take that back, there is some cheese in my fridge that he gave me as a peace offering when he dumped me. weird.

yet somehow, the most baffling thing about all this is that somehow i can call him and ass and in the same breath say that i still love him-someone explain that one to me. Or get him to explain to me what the real reasons were for our breakup (i would ask him but like i said, i make things awkward and have already maxed out the allotted email characters for an ex that doesn't want to be an ex...). I bet it has to do with me being older 20 and having this bad habit of falling asleep early while he would do homework at my house, I don't think i was spontaneous enough for him.

and with that, the year of super crappy relationships is over. This year i will not fall for the antics of boys that don't really want to date but just want my food or car (and seriously, why did some of them want me to drive, Tryone is on his last leg...). Even if i only get more unusual dates full of Chuck Norris shirts and crappy hamburgers, at least they won't leave me crying and feeling insecure.

or better yet, i'll forget boys and just focus on the GMAT...

(and here are some more photos of my book, just because it makes me happy)

sometimes i worry

Tonight as i sat in my kitchen eating my dinner-roasted vegetables with a grilled salmon-while listening to my second Harry Connick Jr. vinyl of the night i realized something, i am turing into an old woman before my eyes. Not only did i make a fantastic dinner, i had from scratch sweet potato casserole in the oven, washed all my dishes, went around my apartment with my hand vac-sucking up all those hard to get areas-and sorted my mail.

now all i apparently need in life is a cat.

I think there are three things that are making me self conscious for my spend-way-too-much-time-in-my-apartment-alone habits. 

1. I watched a recent episode of 30 Rock where liz lemon realizes that she can get anything that she wants if she dresses up like a homeless old lady. We all know that i have a fear of becoming liz, and the fact that she likes being able to empty a room with her crazy demeanor makes me worry about my own habits of spending time alone. 

I want to be that kick a grandma, not a crazy wigged out old lady with bright purple makeup that empties the room with her foul language and crazy eyes. 

2. I started having date night with myself (this sounds way more pathetic in the written word than how i imagined this in my mind). This came about because i really hate dating. a lot. After being on the dating scene for almost a decade and mostly having a lot of bad date stories and only a couple keepers (where obviously the feeling wasn't mutual) i have decided that i need to learn how to be a good date. All this bad dating of the past can't solely be the guys fault...

3. I have also noticed that i am started to acquire strange habits because i live alone. I systematically switch where i sit on my couch so that it doesn't start to sag in the most sat in area. I used to be able to get up and be out of my house in 13 minutes, now it takes me forever because i have all these weird rituals. Same with going to bed, in the last couple months i have added unnecessary steps to my night time ritual before i can crawl between the sheets (i washed 21 pairs of socks in my last load of laundry, apparently compulsively changing my socks is among my rituals...). I also do things like alphabetize books and rearrange my pantry for fun. Not to mention that i now get super excited when i 'splurge' on items like soufflé pans and dinosaur candy molds. 

i really need to get out more.

unless i get out more this is all i have to look forward to on my way to senile-dom,

welcome to date night, 

the land of vinyl records, new recipes, a camera, and periodic spontaneous dancing.  

i think for this week's 'date night' i am at least taking myself out for a night on the town. 

Watch out Salt Lake, me and i are coming! 

keyword me.

Nothing makes you feel more awesome then looking up the top search words that google thought should direct people to your blog.

In the past week people have searched for:

and over the course of my blogership people have searched for:

boy chubby undies?!

CHEESY BLASTERS?!

All the other ones made sense, anything with BYU--especially housing--of course! Kid from little giants who is solely known for blowing snot bubbles? Nothing says 'Bethany as a scrawny kid' better.

Lately i have been having that whole 'i just got dumped and feel kinda terrible about myself' attitude. You know the feeling, the way you feel when someone gave you lame reasons why they didn't want to date you but still wanted you as their best friend--it is kinda equivalent to feeling like the fat best friend, you are there when it is convenient but they don't really want you around all the time--like when super hott boys are around to flirt with (which is funny since if they view you as the fat best friend they shouldn't view you as a threat and shouldn't shun you from the hott boy flirting). Amazingly enough, knowing that people get to my blog because i once resembled the scrawny snot bubble of a boy makes me feel good. At least i have blossomed out of that stage. Let's be grateful for one thing at a time. 

and on that note, my new mantra is to tell myself that i am beautiful because i feel that women are taught not to vocalize that they are beautiful. Have you ever had someone ask you if you think you are beautiful? It is an awkward question, women have been conditioned to feel conceited and shirk off compliments. That awful feeling you have after a boy stays a lot of stupid things, combined with not feeling comfortable about being confident in your own beauty makes you feel all sorts of dumpy. I am out to change that. So here is a photo that i think i look pretty in. And there i said it (i tend to proof read my blog entries out loud) sometimes i think i am beautiful. 

no snot bubbles or accidental nipple here.

(if you have no idea what i am talking about when i reference the boy from Little Giants, 

visit this short little ditty of a post)

this single lady

You'd think that dating someone for four months would make it hard to get back into the swing of single life. Turns out i am almost as good at adjusting to single-dom as i am to jet lag (i am a rockstar at combatting jet lag by the way).

this is the face of a recently dumped girl. or a girl that just cut onions. okay fine, this photo is from when i cut onions. i wish you could see the tears dripping off my chin soaking my shirt. ironically, my boyfriend always cut onions for me, i guess it is tear stained shirts again for me now. sucky suck, i eat a lot of onions.

So what is it like to be single and live alone? Oh, it is a party i'll tell you what. It only took one day to adjust back to my normal--perfect-- sleep schedule, in bed around ten and up at seven. Being dumped ironically also pushes me to exercise and eat less sweets (except for last night when i 'accidentally' ate half a (small) pan of reese's bars...) so i have been working out like none other (should i be worried that i am an aggressive person if instead of crying i want to lift weights and run until my legs throb?). I was at my heaviest ever last week but now i am on the road to skinny jean recovery. My apartment is also very clean. I think i replaced my boyfriend with another man, my new dyson. I vacuum all the time. Seriously, all the time.

Being single lets you do anything you fancy. Lately, the things that i have been fancying involve Christmas. So now, without anyone judging (not that my boyfriend ever judged how i decorated my apartment, but whatever) my plan of attack for things, i have fully 'thrown' up Christmas all over my house.










Today i pulled out my iron for the first time. I didn't use it for clothes--i try not to buy things that need such a device--i used it to flatten snowflakes of course. I also got creative with my Christmas tree. I couldn't find paper clips to hang my small silver ornaments so naturally i choose the smallest clothes pins i have.  I then decorated with my trusty--twelve odd years old--popcorn and cranberry chain. She is a real beauty and makes my tipsy tree perfect. Speaking of being single, you know you are single when your Christmas decorations take up less than a square foot of closet space. All of my ornaments fit in a small tin can, pretty classy indeed.

When you are single you also get to do classy things like lounge around in your sock monkey slippers with your huge plush robe while you pick apart a chicken carcass on your leather ottoman. Next i will probably paint my nails skanky barbie pink, you know, to shake things up a bit. 

Don't get me wrong, i don't seek to be single even though i am so damn good at it, it is just something that unfortunately happens. Do i wish that my boyfriend would realize that i am a catch (come on, i even postpone painting my nails so i can pick a chicken clean, that is a damn good woman)? Yes. Do i wish that he hadn't had me pick him up from the airport and use my time and gas only for him to dump me when we got to provo? Yes. Do i wish i hadn't accidentally started crying in front of my class when a friend asked about him the day after he dumped me? Surprisingly, no. It was rather entertaining with this poor boy was trying to console me while i was laugh/crying. He was patting my knee from a distance trying to make things better saying, "um i usually don't make people cry...". Lucky chap, he's been married so long he forgot how to console girls with broken hearts. 

oh and my exboyfriend admitted while we dated that he never read my blog. one of my friends said that should have been a sign...

"would it be weird if i asked if i could..."

I once read that imogen heap and guy sigsworth named their musical duo Frou Frou because it is the sound silk skirts make when women dance that drives men wild. If a sound can drive men wild, i have found the scent. 

Meet my new best friend/worst enemy. The body shop's oceanus body lotion.

Okay, this isn't a new relationship, the smell of oceanus takes me back to my pristinely clean white bathroom in high school. At the time i was a live in nanny and home quite a bit. Being home and taking care of messy kids made me overly clean. Every friday i got in the habit of deep cleaning my bathroom, from scrubbing the grout to carefully polishing the sink hardware. My sanctuary was my room and bathroom, no one else used them, they were all mine, all white, all clean, and all mine. Because i used oceanus a lot at this time, it always makes me feel clean, especially since the smell is a sweet clean laundry scent.

I always took comfort in this smell, that is until recently.

I walked into dinner group a while ago and as soon as i shut the front door a boy started loudly sniffing me, moving his head from my feet to my face. "You smell so good!" he said. The loud sniffing caught me off guard and slightly weirded me out, "Um, thanks..."

things i thought would entice boys, cute outfits. can you tell i love dresses? a lot?

I purposely sat on the other side of the table from him while we ate but when i was leaving i was found standing next to him again. "Seriously, you smell so good! You smell like my great grandmother's house." Excuse me, your what?! He assured me that was a good smell, but seriously, I smell like old people and that turns you on?! I laughed it off like i wasn't creeped out and jokingly walked over to him (and another boy to asked if he could smell) stretched my nimble leg in the air and as gracefully as vanna white presented my leg for a millisecond snif.  

Then the second boy chased me out the door to ask me on a date.

part of my vast rainbow high heel collection

At church three days later, the first boy walked across an entire row of seats to sit in the vacant seat next to me. I had my suspicions but gave him the benefit of the doubt. A couple hours later i was talking to a friend in the bishop's office when out of the corner i heard "you smell so good." I turned to him and said, "that is the only reason you sat next me isn't it?!" not even sheepishly he answered "well, kinda, you just smell so good." I asked him if he wanted me to give him some of the lotion so he could smell it whenever he wanted but he said that it is my scent mixed with it. Creepy. I then slid out of the room sideways laughing a broken awkward laugh...

I had always thought that boys would notice more outward attempts at being lovely. I liked to think that when i dressed up, that is what would entice the boys--my intense collection of classy dresses and skittle assortment of rockin heels. Little did i know that it only takes a quarter size of fragrant moisturizer to make the heads turn.

Unfortunately, not the right heads. 

At fhe a week ago--a month after i was first smelled--i ran into the boy again. He casually looks over at me and says "hello bethany, would it be weird if i asked if i could smell you?" yes, yes it would. 

I told him i stopped wearing that lotion. He wasn't surprised that it was because of him. 

Don't loudly sniff girls. It is strange. And it made me stop wearing one of my favorite things.

my sister mallory, but my outfit, aren't we cute when we try?

he loves me. he loves me not. take two.

have i mentioned how much i LOVE this show? my new life goal is have a story featured in an episode.

I realized something awful after i published my last post: it came across way too depressing and my normal humor and wit was lacking. This post will therefore be a replacement for the last, less-than-desirable, post.


Today i was doing what i normally do, listening to This American Life while i work (or disinfect levi's usually very nasty dish situation in the kitchen...). One of the episodes that i was engrossed in was about break ups (the most current episode which can be streamed from their site). Everyone has them, they are probably the most common thing among humans, yet when it happens to us we feel like no one could possibly know the pain. And some of us, just want to be able to write heart throbbing lyrics about our recently failed relations.


I may or may not have recently started a phone conversation the following way with a fellow that i had been going on dates with for a couple months:


"so... can you just tell me why i'm that girl that never really dates anyone? I mean, out of the three guys that halfway dated me in the last year, you are on the nice end of the spectrum and are probably the only one that would tell me..."


This was not a break up, we were never dating. It is obviously not a break up when the conversation has a fair bit of laughing and sarcasm from both sides. But none-the-less, laughter aside, i was frustrated with my dating history 

self portrait 2010, untitled  "sleepless nights due to neighbors that never turn off their blasted porch light..."

I have decided that i would rather not date people at all so i can feel justified in my self pity of loneliness, or i want a boy to REALLY break up with me. The type of relationship demise that has its roots so deep in drama and tears that it has the potential to be the meat and potatoes of the next chart topping love song. All i currently have it half-assed relationships that leave me not justified to complain about never going on dates but at the same time the dates aren't leading anywhere so i never get the "i could write a cheesy bubbly love song about this" or "this sucked so bad i am going to write the most depressing break up song ever. evvveerrr."


have i mentioned that i do not write music? yeah, that doesn't matter, it is the principle. And who knows? Maybe i've just never had the fiery fuel to write a song, perhaps i am just one break up--or torrid love affair--away from billboard gold. Or i could finally have good stories for the seemingly dark self portraits i seem to create for class...


What have i got from my previous relations (some probably don't even deserve the word 'relationship')? Nothing worth writing about. 

-at 16 i actually had a boyfriend, the only time the 'title' happened. This relationship lasted about six months but was high school mormon dating which equals not real dating. You know the type, you are best friends and everyone knows your dating and after a couple months they kiss you, real heavy stuff.

-a couple boys who i would rather forget that i ever knew let alone kissed...

-My freshmen year of college i kinda dated a great guy. We never officially dated, he kissed me the night before he went home for the summer and then one visit and a couple months later he went on a two year mission. We wrote the entire time but when he got home i freaked out (I was terrified of the stereotypical return missionary that is pining for marriage). 

He got married last week.

self portrait 2009 "i can do hard things"

-Last summer i thought i was dating a kid but it turns out he never really told anyone about me and when someone called him my boyfriend he freaked out and broke up with me. (which is ironic to feel the need to break up when apparently i wasn't his girlfriend...)

-and now my newest phenomenon, a variation of: 

boys that know me but never talk to me. One day that actually talk to me and decide i am super cool, hangout with me a ton and then drop off the face of the earth. 

I guess i could write a deep despairing love song about my high school romance. No, that won't really work, i was more distraught about the boy starting to drink and what not the year after we broke up then actually breaking up. I don't think a break up song about high school drinking would top any charts.

There could be something good about the boy that got married, but i was so afraid of marriage that i never talked about anything too deep. A break up song with no gut wrenching emotion filled conversation doesn't win either. 

This leaves me empty. Empty of fuel for lyrics. Empty of fuel for blogging. Empty. 

With this, I succumb to the most low form of dating. It has to be better than what i am getting myself. I hereby will accept dates from others, aka blind dates. I have never been a fan before, the boy who called himself 'Buck' that didn't really talk our whole date probably killed that, but i am willing to let bygones be bygones and try it out again. But, if you feel the need to set me up you must think that we are compatible and don't just fit the criteria of 'well, their both single...'

Perhaps with your help i could finally have that torrid love affair, or at least something.

And for the record, the things that came from that phone conversation about what i need to work on in dating are as follows in case you feel the need to tell the blind date participant why i am currently single: i am forward at the wrong times, i sometimes text too often, i make it too easy for boys that are not interested to spend time with me (i will blame that on my generosity and delectable cooking skills), and i read all and every sign the exact wrong way (like that creepy girl in the He Love Me He Loves Me Not french film).

But on the flip side you can go ahead and tell that: I am independent/self sufficient, witty, decent at dressing myself, martha stewart-ish, classy, well read, at times athletic, and basically just all around fantastic. 

he loves me. he loves me not.

"so... can you just tell me why i'm that girl that never really dates anyone? I mean, out of the three guys that halfway dated me in the last year, you are on the nice end of the spectrum and are probably the only one that would tell me..."

No, i didn't recently start a phone conversation with that... okay, maybe i did.

every post that involves something off about myself deserves one good photo. I pride myself in my ability to dress myself. Today i pretty much looked like this (but subtract the hipster glasses and replace them with classy square frames) but add a blue necklace, lime green shoes, a pink/orange bag, and purple nails. A rainbow explosion at its best.

Here is brief history of my dating.

-at 16 i actually had a boyfriend, the only time the 'title' happened. This relationship lasted about six months but was high school mormon dating which=not real dating. You know the type, you are best friends and everyone knows your dating and after a couple months they kiss you, real heavy stuff.

-a couple boys who i would rather forget that i ever knew let alone kissed...

-My freshmen year of college i kinda dated a great guy. We never officially dated, he kissed me the night before he went home for the summer and then one visit and a couple months later he went on a two year mission. We wrote the entire time but when he got home i freaked out (I was terrified of the stereotypical return missionary that is pining for marriage). 

He got married last week.

-Last summer i thought i was dating a kid but it turns out he never really told anyone about me and when someone called him my boyfriend he freaked out and broke up with me. 

-and now my newest phenomenon, a variation of: 

boys that know me but never talk to me. One day that actually talk to me and decide i am super cool, hangout with me a ton and then drop off the face of the earth. 

This takes us to my recent phone call. 

For the last couple months I have been spending time with a certain fellow. We have mutual friends and met a year and half ago but only really started hanging out recently. 

This is where is gets sticky. You see, i now view myself as the main character of He Loves Me He Loves Me Not (a fantastic french film, go netflix it.) The tagline should explain it, "Is she crazy in love, or just crazy." Turns out I am the 'just crazy' type.

We went on numerous dates, or accidental dates as he called them. People would refer to us as dating when we were out and he would always make some agreeing statement. He called me Honey, came over one night at midnight just to say hi because he felt like he hadn't seen me in a long time (it had been a week), asked me about a boy i didn't date last year--he wanted to make sure he wasn't doing the same things that turned me off...

And the list continues. 

To me--in public--it looked like we were dating. However, we weren't. We did hold hands once, but that is one of those situations where i still can't decide if he wasn't trying but i thought he was so i went with it, or if he was legitimately trying...

After a couple months of this i was sorely confused and annoyed so i called him out on it. He apparently didn't see the same things and was more than a little surprised at my view. During our conversation i asked him why i never really date and what i need to work on. After an hour i feel that most of the things he told me where things about himself and not me (oh the irony, i ask and can't accept, we never want to see ourselves as less than awesome). He said i was too forward but also said he likes forward girls. He said i text too much but still texted me to hangout. He said i make it too easy for non-interested boys to spend time with me yet he made the first move and had me over for cinnamon rolls and took me to a movie three days after we first hungout. Basically i feel it all boils down to attraction and though he didn't say it, he was never interested. This is what makes me that crazy girl. That girl that read every sign possible, the exact wrong way.

As i have been blowing through discs of Mad Men--before Netflix charges me more to view dvds at home--i found this great quote:

"So do you go on those dates were you ask each other questions?"

"Its a means to an end."

"But nobody knows whats wrong with themselves, i mean everyone else can see it right away."

And since i already opened pandora's box about my less than desirable qualities, i might as well continue. here is the list of things i am working on:

-i am better at talking about myself than asking questions about you-i do not shower everyday-i can be a bit overwhelming on the text front-i give awkward goodbyes-i say whatever i am thinking which can sometimes be inappropriate-i would rather do everything myself than let someone help me-i am slightly addicted to shopping, mainly at banana republic-

And now that i am a self proclaimed 'crazy girl' and am having zero success at dating on my own. I hereby change my previous dating practices and will go willingly on any blind date any lovely creature plans. The only stipulation is that you actually think we are compatible and don't just set me up because we are both single...

oh on a side now... said fellow is a great guy and we are still friends. It is amazing what actually talking to someone about why you aren't dating makes things less awkward.

if you knew me solely from facebook...

I had a realization. My facebook statuses make me look like a fat zit faced teenager with zero social skills. 

If you only knew me through facebook, imagine what picture these statuses would paint in your mind... (and these only have to do with my physical appearance...)

read this blog. now. it is hilarious and reminds me how i feel sometimes about food. God of Cake, Hyperbole and a Half

6/18/2009

my shorts match my toenails. who knew that GAP carries Skanky Barbie Fuchsia colored clothes?! 

11/3/2009

i feel like i am going to vomit. is it nerves, or that ridiculously large chimichanga i just ate? 

3/27/2010

Bethany looks likes someone smashed Cheetos on her face. 

5/24/2010

i have a heating pad stuck to my back, my right foot is still swollen and bruised, and i have blood running from my heel into my shoe. i thought i had at least 40 more years until my body started falling apart.

9/9/2010

either i got bit by a gnarly bug or has the worlds largest zit. either way, my eye is swelling shut... 

9/30/2010

why i like hanging out in the hfac print lab: "i like your sideburns, i mean the lack there of. They have a nice shape, they aren't like guys since you don't have facial hair."- Brannon 

my purple hair.

12/24/2010

i think i looked better as a brunette instead of a purplette. christmas eve dye job fail. 

2/8/2011

i made an arm sling out of my sweater belt. classy. 

5/3/2011

i woke up with mascara on my chin. how the? 

5/12/2011

Levi informed me that today my shoes are outlandish in both color and height. 
Did it seriously take him 4 straight years of working everyday with me to catch on to that? 

 

5/31/2011

you always (secretly) hope that the day you run into your arch-nemesis after many years you look beyond fantastic, alas when that happened to me today i had a frumpy braid, extra big sweater, one fist holding a chunk of fudge and the other shoving a cookie into my mouth... i guess they just won again. damn.

6/23/2011

I am going to go ahead and pretend that since I can't see my butt hanging out the four inch hole in my shorts, no one else can either... 

6/29/2011

When you go to school with no makeup or deodorant, wearing sweat pant shorts and your sister's maternity shirt, your day only has the possibility of getting better. 

But the hard truth is, I have photographic evidence that this does indeed paint an accurate picture of me. (and sadly, the photos even say more and are more frequent...)

case and point

And then there are the statuses that make me look like i have zero social skillz, to go with my 'i just ate an entire batch of cookie dough' persona...

11/21/2009

when i put on my sunglasses i thought, "wow this is like the recovery slider in the RAW window of Photoshop..." and that is when i realized i am a huge nerd.

these are just so i feel better about my self.

3/4/2010

Day #3 of using a princess sandwich tupperware as a water glass. time to do the dishes at the office... 

3/22/2010

i feel pathetic, either too much photographing or too much invoice folding (at super sonic speeds) has landed me in a wrist brace. 

6/30/2010

i hope God has a replay button for our lives. I really want to know who screamed first in their sleep last night which caused me and Jenny to end up in a bear hug (complete with her nails digging into my arm) screaming at each other in terror. we also  terrified ada which added to the screaming mayhem. fun times at the Davis household at 3:45 in the am...

7/8/2010

thank you, efy boy, that flirted with me today. even though you may have thought i was 14, my dating moral has still been boosted. 

11/23/2010

apparently my long jumping skills were much better in the 8th grade. Hey running clothes and iPhone, meet the middle of this super muddy and merky marsh! 

see, i can be cute.

3/3/2011

days that start with car failure and end with a razor blade lodged in my finger are pretty memorable.

3/7/2011

thanks to Carrie and Jenny, I now have a tag line for my blog. I am cool in a perfectly awkward, uncool way. exactly what i always wanted to be!

5/6/2011

So I just accidentally went to a midnight showing of Thor by myself. I am awesome.

6/7/2011

mom "you should really go to that big east coast single adult conference next summer, it sounds like a fun vacation and it is full of doctors and lawyers, real catches...
"
me "so you have that little of faith in my dating skills that you are planning a year in advance to find me a date."
mom "oh no, i mean, it just seems like..." 

6/20/2011

apparently texting people when deliriously tired is equivalent to drunk dialing. 

no i didn't do that recently...to a boy...that i want to date. 

damn. 

Though amidst the unbecoming statuses there were a few gems that give a hint as to my true awesomeness, i would say that my social networking skills need a bit of help.