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.

guilty pleasures

my nephew, in the tv zone...

You know the scene. You are sitting alone on the couch with remote in hand, finger on the 'previous channel' button. The show blaring on the screen is one that you shouldn't be watching but you can't break the spell it has on you. You sit with bated breath, ready to hit the button that instantly takes you back to the previous, 'safe,' channel as soon as you hear someone within 10 feet of the room.

This is how i spent my childhood. I wasn't watching racy shows (unless you consider Barney racy...), just ones that i knew would lead to endless shaming by my older siblings.

The Wonder Years Season 2, Episode 8--Hiroshima, Mon Frere

Recently i was talking to my dear sister jenny, and she brought up the fact that us Davises have one major flaw: We love to ruthlessly make fun of each other. This might not seem that unusual or detrimental, and you might be thinking, 'Every family makes fun of each other. That is what makes the love-hate relationship between siblings fun!' You might think that is why siblings are fun, but it turns out they are fun because you do bad things together that you never told your parents. Indeed, they are your partners in crime. They are not fun when they are in “Hamster Patrol” mode (if you don't get that reference you NEED more of “The Wonder Years“ in your life). My siblings never sucked up my hamster with a vacuum — most likely only due to the fact that when you don't have a hamster it’s pretty hard to suck one up, and my other furry pet, a cat, was too big for the vacuum — but they did like to taunt me and each other about everything from pets to music to clothing to television viewing habits. And if taunting didn't stop you from engaging in the subpar activity they would take it upon themselves to physically stop you, like when my siblings hid my Joy School (pre-preschool) tapes in my underwear drawer so they could have days of peace from the rhyming rhythms (i didn't like to change my clothes or shower apparently as a toddler).

who could hide such a cute girl's tapes?! Joy School graduation

The funny thing is that i feel like i spent most of my childhood foolishly hiding things i shouldn't have and flamboyantly showing things that truly were in bad taste or odd and were very much worthy of all the flack i got from all of my siblings.


For example, i didn't feel the need to hide:

• Knitting in movie theaters: Not only do my siblings know that dirty little secret but so do a whole lot of other innocent moviegoers.

• Singing show tunes at the top of my lungs in the shower: I'm sure half of the neighborhood could sing all the words to “Honey Bun” because of my frequent exploits.

• My love of infomercials: no explanation needed.

• Thinking a bowl cut was a good idea.




• Having my favorite television event be Nick at Nite instead of TGIF: By the time i was 10 i'm pretty sure i not only had seen every “I Love Lucy” and “Lucy-Desi Comedy Hour,” but i even had a giant coffee table book that i would frequent to brush up on the back stories of the episodes.

• Using all my babysitting money to rent classics from Hastings: What other kid was arguing with the
rental store that a not-rated film produced before 1960 wasn't going to have things inappropriate for a 9-year-old to watch?

• The fact that i not only was a mascot but campaigned for our school to get one.

• My extensive homemade doll collection: It was creepy and mostly held together with Pintrest-worthy amounts of hot glue and the occasional staple.

• That i liked gold, so naturally i thought gold braces were a brilliant idea. Why was i so surprised when my siblings started singing “Ghetto Superstar” to me all the time?

• Lifetime movies: They are all about cheating husbands that get murdered by their wives and yet whenever the entire house sneaks off for the usual sunday nap i gravitate toward the terrible acting of Lifetime. Angels in heaven probably weep for my soul every sunday this happens. (did i say sunday, because they definitely have an iPad app so now it can happen anytime, anywhere!)


Yet i did hide such normal things as:

i hid who i liked cleverly under things like taped down valentine's in my journal

• The fact that i was a girl and heaven forbid actually liked girly things.

• That boys are cute and sometimes i had/have crushes on them.

• Dancing. I might be a horrible dancer but being inept seems pretty universal.

• Writing. Did you know that it took me until college to willingly let people peer review my school papers and i was terrified to start a blog?

• Singing (not show tunes, just the regular type). At my dad's funeral in 2009 i had the first solo in a song that all the girls in the family sang. One of my sisters mentioned afterward that she didn't know that i could sing like that. Even weirder was the fact that most of my sisters are musical but i still never sang solos, especially around my family.

hard to believe she was the ultimate tomboy

• My love for crappy teenage music: Everyone goes through a phase liking something that is popular, but i felt like i had to keep it all secret. And with that i will admit that most of the time i spent on a bus on my way to ski team i was listening to Savage Garden on my Discman.


When i was talking to my sisters about what they hid as children, they mentioned things like riding their bike around the neighborhood with a Walkman so they could listen to Men Without Hats in peace and being total tomboys because 'girl things were stupid.' (For the record, the most tomboy girl out of our family — the one that made me feel ashamed to like girly things — didn't have anyone above her that said girly things were stupid but singlehandedly created this intense anxiety in both of us for no apparent reason. Oh and now both of us work in the cosmetics industry.) Especially when it came to music they got it — some music would be considered subpar and therefore warrant days of torture.

They understood what to hide and why. Apparently i did get that i shouldn't let my siblings know all of my silly habits, but i didn't get the memo of which ones.

i'm bethany and i'm a mormon-that-supports-gay-marriage

because it seems to be the cool kid thing to do right now, i am going to try and explain to the masses how i could possibly support gay marriage as a devot mormon.

*****PLEASE NOTE*****
since this is my blog i get to make the rules, if you HATE what i think and want to leave a most nasty comment you may, BUT you then have to read another post of mine (which are usually funny and not so political) and leave an oh so happy comment. Got it? Good.
************************

let me first say what i really think the US needs to do: the United States needs to not reconigze marriage, they need to migrate to civil unions. This way all concenting adults that want to devote their lives to one another can have the same benefits as all other couples. Then you can go to your institution of choice and get married. I have been on this bandwagon for years. But, since the US is not discussing this but instead marriage, i have no other option but to support gay marriage because i feel so strongly that couples need to have rights.

Now lets talk 'traditional marriage'--that lovely term that 95% of my facebook friends like to talk about all.the.time. In case some of you haven't noticed, marriage has encompased a lot of different scenerios over the centuries. Remember all those stories in the Bible with men having lots of wives and concubines? Or what about in Mormonism how we believe in polygamy and it was practiced less than two hundred years ago? Or what about interracial marriage being illegal until 1967? Marriage has not always been just between one man and one woman, not even in the bible. We are arguing over the definition of a word that has never been one finite thing.

Now lets talk about the article so many of you posted, Church Responds to HRC Petition: Statement on Same-Sex Attraction. It was written in 2010--that is over two years ago. In those two years the church actually started using the word gay more openly and even created a new website, http://www.mormonsandgays.org/, where they say "Even though individuals do not choose to have such attractions, they do choose how to respond to them. With love and understanding, the Church reaches out to all God’s children, including our gay and lesbian brothers and sisters." They clearly say here that people do not choose to be gay. The previous article (HRC) also says that we support equal civil rights--in the US this means marriage because many rights are only afforded to married couples. 

Then there was the other thing many posted, The Family, A Proclamation to the World. I have read this article many times, have a copy of it in my home and even took a class on it in college. I love all the great things this thing says. But, this talks about the ideal family and what a family can be with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. My family did not meet this, i grew up in a single family home. Though i did not have a father present in my life, is my family broken? Also, many people will never accept the Gospel so are they to be punished for not agreeing with our beliefs? We hold ourselves to a higher law because we believe it and understand it, we cannot condem others and withhold rights on something they do not understand.

Over and over we hear that Satan is attacking the family. This is more than true. But is gay marriage really at the forefront? What about teenagers that play russian roulette with the gift of creation and keep making babies that they don't want and can't care for? What about women that pay more attention to updating their (fictitious) perfect life on facebook and blogger than their own children? What about men that beat their wives and children? What about corruption and scandal in big business and government? What about people taking advantage of the system and always taking from government aid and never contributing to society? What about destroying our bodies with drugs? What about people killing each other because they are too stupid to not drive home when they are wasted? What about the huge porn industry that our children are exposed to?

The family is under attack because people are only getting more selfish, entitled and downright evil.

The family is not under attack because people want to love more.

and i think this has sealed my fate of being single forever. I once was dumped because a guy thought i wasn't spiritual enough and no non-mormon wants to date me because to them i am too religious. Oh the woes of being a liberal mormon woman.

tales from the tithing child

i couldn't keep simple things, like how many siblings i had, straight when i was a kid, why do i assume i can remember things accurately? there are 16 heads in this photo, my family only had 12 if you count my parents...

The other day i was with my mom and brother and commented about something i remembered as a child. Without even taking 7.3 seconds to comprehend what i said, Levi goes, "there is no way you remember that..." I stopped to think about it and realized, damn, he might be right.

Turns out that i am a bit hazy about the details of my life prior to 1998 or so. 

am i looking at the camera or the guy to to your right? YOU'LL NEVER KNOW! mawhaha

As i thought about my childhood i realized that a lot of my 'memories' are in third person--i see things happening to me as if i am a bystander. I'm no psychologist but i think that might indicate that i am making them up. Example--i have a distint memory of being pinned down by nurses and having eye drops forced into my eyes. I know this possible because i have been going to the eye doctor since i was a wee babe (its not hard to tell that your kid needs to go to the eye doctor when they are only really paying attention to you with one eye...) and getting my eyes dilated. But i didn't know until i was at least in high school that i had eye surgery when i was two and that is why i have gray streaks in the whites of my eyes, turns out they are scars. So did i make up the memory? Since when i think of 'that time' the room is pitch black with a spot light shinning on the poor cross-eyed girl that is being pinned down in the giant brown leather chair, i would say yes. My eye doctor's office was only 80% that creepy in real life with his crazy animatronic dog in the corner--AND he didn't have nurses.

mallory and i fight? never.

Then there was that time that Mallory and i got in squabble over where we sat at the dinner table. Everyone agreed with Mallory--my chair was across from the one i was claiming. But i didn't let that stop me! I was positive that i was right (and still am to this day, more so i am just so confused i don't know what to think)! Our fight was so dramatic that my mom left the table and her dinner and told us we could eat on the floor for all she cared.

Or how about the fact that i am 90% sure i once got all of my fingers--minus my thumbs--shut in the car hood, yet my brother who i swear was working on the car can't remember? I would think that if you accidentally shut your 5 year old sister in the car you would remember. BUT i remember that in first person, so did it really happen?!

my life is a mess. or so i think it is?

But here are a few things I KNOW happened when i was a kid.

he looks so innocent and loving. just like wayne before he became the infamous Hamster Patrol...

Levi once locked me in the car after church because he is an older brother and that is the type of thing they do according to all television shows namely the Wonder Years. I was a 'dumb kid' (according to levi of course) and couldn't figure out the super high tech pull this thing the size of a screw up and it will release the door lock thing. Needless to say, i had to pee super bad and wet my pants all over the backseat--and i highly doubt i sat in one place like a sane person would, more like let's spread pee all over the seat in a panic! Once one of my nicer siblings, most likely a sister, let me out of the car and assessed the wet mess, Levi was summoned to clean it up. Karma, she's a--... you know the rest.

I really liked to run away as a kid. Most of the time i was kind enough to leave a map--though it was rarely accurate in topography or where i actually was--usually it was to my preschool. I would grab my favorite doll, Baby Beth (which ironically is not mine but a doll i swiped from my sister Sarah), a small hot pink plastic suitcase, a set of Baby Beth's cloths and a can of green beans. I would then haul all of this and a small wooden chair out my front door, down the yard, and into the ditch bank. I would sit under our driveway which was a bridge and contemplate the finer things in life--the color pink, dolls and green beans. 

The first time my mom left my alone I was probably no older than 5, she ran to a neighbors or something and wasn't gone more than five minutes (so that none of you assume she was a terrible parent). I watched her leave and as soon as she was in her car I sprinted to the basement where i helped myself onto the play table where i proceeded to dance. Apparently, out of all the forbidden things in the Davis household that i instantly had access to, dancing on the table tops was my top priority. You would think that i would have grown up to be a seductive party girl instead of the loner introvert. 

One of our favorite pass times in the summer was playing on our amazing wooden playground. We only had it until i was 7 so i am a bit hazy on its actual size because well, to me it was HUGE! I do know that the slide was long enough to merit levi hauling his bmx up it to ride down so huge is probably fairly accurate. Anyway, seeing as our father should have been in the circus and we were all able to walk on our hands as children, it is no surprise that we would grab the thick braided rope from the farside of the playground and throw it up to the person perched on the slide. We would then leap off the side of the slide and swing back and forth. I however remember doing this but missing the open space i was aiming for and slamming straight into the support beam where it proceeded to break my glasses and bounce me backwards into a pile of the dreaded sticker weeds. Luckily Jenny was kind enough to get tweezers and de-sticker my palms.

like this only cooler

I also remember the amazing three horse carrousel that my family had. It was on our back patio, was white with primary colors and had a light switch on the box instead of a coin slot so we could ride to our little hearts content. I also remember embracing the Davis, or daredevil--they are sometime interchangeable--in me and climbing onto the horses back, up the mane, grabbing onto the inside lip of the roof while i balanced my feet on the handles coming out of the horses head, and then climbing onto the roof. Then i remember falling off. Or do i? Is this where my problems began? Trauma to the head?                                                   

maybe i did remember being born, i look like i was pretty traumatized from the experience...

I called Mallory to ask her if she had input on this. Without thinking, just like Levi, she said, "when you were little you used to tell us you remembered being born, that you remembered the doctor slapping your butt or something..."

and i guess that proves it, i have the best-worst memory around.

But i will always stick to the story that i remember laying on the shag carpet in the family room of our house with my pants off and diaper open. I then remember at least two of my older siblings, i think Mike and Katie, coming in, seeing the poopy diaper and turning away because they didn't want to change it. If you know mike and katie or any teenagers you should be able to see the truth in this one...

unsubscribed.

i made myself a 30 day 'chip.' why should people in AA have all the fun?

hello, my name is Bethany and i am a shopaholic.

okay, not completely true but slightly (you can tell this is the denial part of my problem). I have never gone into debt for anything--even school, but that doesn't mean that i might not shop a little too much.

But i have changed my ways. i have unsubscribed from those handy emails that tell me when things are 40% off already reduced prices. i have made new budgets. i have given away my shopping arsenal to save money. i have even liquidated shoes, bags and a ridiculous amount of lotion on eBay.

Maybe i am giving myself too much credit for not shopping for the past 40 days, i mean if you already own enough dresses that you could wear a different one each week to church without repeating you probably should have stopped shopping about 40 dresses ago...Same with dishes, i mean i have three sets and can serve 24 people--i can't even fit 10 people in my apartment! The fact that i own EVERYTHING i could possibly need during my twenties combined with the Mad Men collection from Banana Republic this year not be tempting in the slightest, i shouldn't be shopping anyway...

the feeling is mutual W&S... the feeling is mutual...

Ever since i was young i have been obsessed with money--making it, counting it, writing budgets for it, organizing it, planning the future with it--everything. With ten kids in the family and my dad being out of work my entire life due to a dibilitating accident everyone noticed money and probably our lack thereof. I was never without anything important, i always had clean clothes, a nice house, birthday/christmas presents etc. and didn't ever notice that we didn't have a lot of spare change, I just knew that if there was something i wanted i needed to figure out a way to earn the money to purchase it. This seemed, and still seems, very logical to me.

When i was younger i would take every babysitting job that was offered, even the ones from that family that the normal sane 13 yr old didn't want to touch with a ten foot pole. When i would get home i would write the date, job, and amount i was paid on a piece of paper and drop it in a tin box. At the end of the year i would tally up how much i made at each job and which ones were more profitable. I would also write down every dollar that i spent in the same fashion and tally that up too. For years i could tell you exactly how much i made and spent in the smallest of categories.

i do get to shop if i have a gift card. thanks nyc boss for giving me things i could return to Nordstroms so buy these shoes instead.

Then i was a teenager and basically on my own financially. I moved out when i was 16 to be a live in nanny for my sister while her husband served in Iraq. I was living on such little amounts of money that i had a strict budget for buying things like shampoo. It was also during this stint of my life that i started really wanting my own home. By the time i graduated and left my hometown i had lived in 6 different homes with 4 of those being during high school and two during my senior year alone. When i would get stressed out or have an argument with my sister i would de-stress by going to the mall. I couldn't buy anything but i began to love being in stores--no one cares if you are wandering around slowly and everything is nice, new and clean. Soon however, shopping became a talent of mine and not just a coping mechanism.

Turns out that i am really, i mean REALLY good at shopping. I can find everything that i have been wanting at the best prices always.

As i got older and had better paying jobs i started buying things that normal teenagers didn't buy. I went to college with William & Sonoma oven mits, a Kitchen Aid and cleaning supplies i had already more than broken in. My favorite stores weren't Forever 21 or Gap, they were William & Sonoma, Pottery Barn, and Costco.

i am REALLY good at shopping and getting killer deals

Then i discovered Banana Republic. And then my life got very full of stuff.

But, i am changing my ways.

i am especially not allowed to buy nail polish, you could say i have enough...

In January i decided that for the rest of the year i would not buy anything other than the most basic necessities--groceries and gas. I allow myself a small budget to go out with friends--so that i can still have friends--but i am trying to only eat out etc when someone invites me. And other than that, i am done shopping. I will not buy anything for my house--not even a tupperware, not anything for the bathroom (i have a stockpile of lotion/tooth paste/shampoo etc so the rule is that it has to be GONE before i can buy anything new), no nail polish, no new clothes, nothing.

The ironic thing is, up until i stopped buying things i was attached to most my possessions but now i am really good at getting rid of things.

here's to 10 more months of not being a consumer and hopefully building up a savings account again. The last six months have been more than rough money wise, but i have high hopes that i can fix it. I am so serious about this venture that i unsubscribed from most emails AND gave my last Banana Republic reward ($30 none-the-less) along with my 10% off tote to my sister so that i wouldn't be temped.

damn you uncle sam and your taxes.

my last purchases, a green pencil skirt and patterned top from Banana Republic. turns out it is really hard to take a decent picture of yourself with a self timer...

oh and i decided i am not even buying a car when i have to give my nephew's back in june. i mean, i already own a bicycle... because as you can see i am very good at riding bicycles.

i always deliver

a smattering of notes i found in my room from jr. high all the way through college.

my tornado of a room

This thursday being Valentine's, i thought i would write about love and sometimes the lack there of. Where is there a lack of love you ask? Jr. High, the hell hole of all hell holes.  A few many months ago i was cleaning out my apartment in provo getting ready for my move to the big apple. As i poured over everything that i owned trying to decide what needed to never be seen by my eyes again, i found a box containing basically all paper proof of my public education. It was full of photos, school assignments, notes, letters, and trinkets (i might have a slight problem of keeping almost everything along those lines...)

Among the many treasures i found this note that i wrote to myself. 

My freshmen english teacher made each of us write a letter to ourselves that we would get back when we graduated high school. The first sentence pretty much summed up how i felt about jr. high (and high school later)--"Where can you start about junior high? It pretty much is the worst of all worlds." (I then go on about how irritated i was with my best friend stephen because he had a crush on this girl and stopped giving me the attention i deserved. i was so dramatic. I probably should have just told him i had a crush on him instead of annoying him to death with my whining about this other girl...)

When i found this note i started to think, what made jr. high so bad? Then i found the following note:

Apparently for me, junior high was full of me picking fights over little things like "the accidental pencil stabbing incident."

I can't remember what i did to make this girl think that i deserved a pencil to the head, but i do remember one incident with her. 

This girl always thought that she was the best at everything. She played sports, was smart, and wasn't an awkward looking pubescent so really she did have a lot going for her. However, she liked to tell everyone how right she was about everything in this nasally nerd voice that made even the nicest (which is hard to come by in junior high) kid want to punch kittens. During one of these rants, probably at lunch or in some classroom when i was confined to the same God forsaken corner as her, she punched me in the arm.

Now this punch wasn't the most forceful--i mean she played basketball and made sure that everyone knew, she had to have had some upper body strength--and i am sure that it didn't leave me with bodily harm but it made my blood boil. First this girl was going to get in my face and now she had the gaul to touch me?!

Calmly i turned to her and said, "you know i will get you back, right?"

She of course shrugged it off and went on to talk about me and how much i sucked and what not and how i would never do anything to her.

i spent most of jr high apparently looking nervous

Now we fast forward to lunch a few days later if not a week. I was standing in a small group of people; this unfortunate creature was across from me and two boys were on each side of us. As calmly as i had delivered the threat of getting her back but with the quick reflexes of a cat (if you have ever been of of the fools that tried to tickle me you know what reflexes i speak of...) i delivered one sound punch directly to her left arm. This was not a weak sauce encounter like the one she gave me, but a decent--if it was a math test i would have hung it on the home fridge in pride--punch. For the first, and quite possibly only, time in my life i felt slightly bad-ass.

As she grabbed her arm with her other hand and stared at me dumbfounded, trying to come up with some snide come back, i calmly said, "i told you i would get you back."

Needless to say the boys were more than a little confused and probably think to this day that i have anger issues.

at least in high school i pretended to be cool by being in the Homecoming court and stuff

The girl and i had to interact at least a little for the next 5 or so years of school as we both went through the accelerated, AP, church seminary and choir classes. Did we ever make up? Never. In fact she drove me up the wall. the. entire. time. And for the record, i was not the only one bothered by her, just ask anyone from my sophomore chemistry class. She ruined our prefectly sound plan of only reminding the teacher to check our homework on the days that we all actually did it "Mr. Jacobsmeyer, you forgot to check our homework!"--but remember to say it like a girl Steve Urkle and imagine her waving her perfectly done homework in front of her face...

I saw her once in college. I was walking out of my apartment complex back in 2008 when her mom stopped me to ask me how i liked living there. I am pretty sure that she noticed who i was, but just like how i didn't admit to knowing her or her mom, i quickly answered her question and went on my way.

Ironically i have had two friends mention that they ran into her lately and both mentioned that i came up in conversation. One told me that she admitted to feeling horrible for how she treated me all those years ago.

And all these years i thought i was the only one that remembered.

And why would i post this for Valentine's Day you ask? Because not hating someone is almost like loving them and it turns out that after hearing--even if it was not from her--that she is sorry i don't hate her anymore. It is also good to know that no one is the same person as they were in public school.

This proves to me that there really is a God. He might have a twisted sense of humor for letting public school exist, but at least he fixes us in time for our ten year reunion. 

all my Valentine's also get sealed with wax (like most of my letters...)

But on to real Valentine's Day, i love it. I don't care that i have never been on a hot and steamy date or had a boyfriend during the holiday--it is a holiday where i get to be all crafty and gushy and no one can think it is weird! I crafted it up this year and repurposed my three favorite books, All My Friends Are Dead, I Like You, and The History of Love that met their demise in my recent flood into one-of-a-kind valentine's. The only thing you have to watch out for is when you are making a valentine for your mother and the page that you ripped from The History of Love happens to have a not so good word very prominently placed on the page--we almost had a very inappropriate Valentine fail.

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...)

up up down down left right B A start

Sometimes i feel like my life is a video game--things seem to be at the mercy of snotty nosed teenager that is too busy trying to get my avatar to jump over magical rainbows to snatch lofty gold coins that might add up to a free life than actually get me to the next level of the game--one step forward and two steps back. (Maybe I shouldn't have said a snotty-nosed teenager--i doubt God would like being compared to such a creature...)

"hot dogs can last up to 20 years in landfills" (and obviously i meant 'expiration'...)

I have been working on a number of blog posts over the past few weeks with amazing titles like: 50lbs, 10 miles & 20 flights of stairs (what it was like moving every 1-6 weeks in Manhattan), Dress Pants or was it Dress & Pants? (my response to 'wear pants to church day' and correct misunderstandings of my post about the subject), 6 ways to eat 6 hotdogs in 6 days (cleaning out my fridge in new york made me eat worse than when i was in college), Pin This! (how Pintrest got me a job offer, even though my personal account only has zero followers),  and last but not least--Diplomas, Old People Jobs & Shoebox Living (how 2013 is going to be my year with a move to NYC to live in my own studio and go to a big person job with benefits and everything).

But alas none of those have graced the blogsphere.

Three weeks ago i was sure this was going to be my year. My NYC boss sat me down the day before i left and offered me a full time job because she liked how i handled the business's Pintrest account and she found me very resilient from all my bouncing around the city. Needless to say she was impressed with me. The next week i was back in Utah and successfully cleaning out my closet and getting ready to move. The New Year came and i made one resolution: to spend the 12 months of the year getting back into prime shape so that i can be 125 while i'm 25. Things were looking good, i was going to look good and my career/living were looking good.

Then three weeks went by without the boss calling me to give me the official offer,
       weeks thinking i was moving next month so most of my things stayed in boxes,
              with my boxes staying the photo lab that is detached from my brother's house where i am squatting...

reunited after 4 months.

Now fast-forward to this past Wednesday.

Milo loves that i live with levi because, well, Milo and i love the same thing: sleep (i have always been that weird kid that gets 8-10 hours of sleep every single night). We went to bed around 10 but then at midnight, after a series of attempts by Milo to wake me up, i took him out to pee. In my delirious state i let him out, talked to levi for a minute, and then went back to bed. Levi then yells up at me "You need to come outside right now." To someone who loves sleep as much as me this was one of the worst sentences.

Turns out the next sentence was going to be even more awful...

"The photo lab is full of water, you need to come out now!"

This, is of course, the same photo lab where i have been storing a majority of my belongings in anticipation of moving 3,000 miles. I put on some shoes and a sweatshirt and ran out of the house to fish out my boxes of belonging. The night was abnormally warm, turns out the teens feel like 40 when it has been in the negatives, and all i saw was water cascading from the lab over the driveway--I failed to notice sheets of ice that lined the driveway under the newly formed puddles. As i deliriously ran towards the open door of the lab i hit a sheet of ice and instantly was on the ground wallowing in inches of ice cold water. Spinning like a turtle i turned my body towards the door and kept going.

Within a matter of minutes levi and i were wet from mid calf down and were tossing boxes to each other from my side of the lab. Soon the garage was filled with every towel from the house sprawled out along the floor with the contents of my boxes strewn on them. For the most part all the boxes that were sitting in 5 inches of water contained books which swelled so much that it was impossible to pull the books from the box and instead we had to rip and cut the boxes apart. When levi had first gone into the lab he had fumbled to turn on the lights (they were behind my boxes with a space for your arm to fit which wasn't so hard to do when water wasn't pouring out the door...) and knocked a few things down in the process but at least he was able to grab the top box which was full of the only full set of magazines that my dad was in.

all my friends are dead

For the next few hours we ripped boxes apart, moved stacks of boxes from the lab to the garage, found all spare towels in the house, changed our icy socks and shoes, washed a load of clothes from a suitcase that filled with water, and levi put the wet/dry vac to work. By 4am both of us were thoroughly exhausted.                                    

my dad built this airplane which landed him on the cover of numerous magazines.

The next morning i was able to asess the damage and start the claim with insurance.

50+ kids books
30+ novels
20 cookbooks
20+ cooking magazines
1 Kate Spade purse
1 vintage suitcase
a few textbooks
a couple antique books
and a dozen irreplaceable books (mostly stuff from my dad) met their demise in a cold watery grave.

Now i sit in levi's family room surrounded by books that are still damp at the core and it turns out that while books possess one of my favorite smells--100 books drying in your family room posses a very terrible smell. This was not the worst thing to happen. Losing 100 books is better than losing a dozen magazines of my dads. Loosing 100 books is better than loosing my camera. Losing 100 books is better than loosing everything from all my boxes in storage. and the list goes on and on.

The thing that does suck is that i was only storing things in the lab because i thought i was moving cross country. Two days after staying up all night rescuing my belongings i finally received an email (not even a phone call) from my nyc boss saying that they have to pull their job offer because it turns out they can't afford to hire me.

i am pretty sure you should check such information before you offer a job.

Now i am almost 25 (this friday!), don't know where i am living (and might have to move in with my mom), am STILL living out of boxes/suitcases for the 6th month in a row, don't know how much of a job i have in utah, and am driving my nephew's car because i can't afford my own. i.am.awesome.

but on the plus side, i finally have the most expensive piece of paper of my life thus far, worth a whopping $32,971.58 (plus books and project cost of course) AND i haven't eaten any hot dogs in three weeks.

point of this story: if i told you i was moving to nyc next month and you could visit anytime because i was getting my own apartment, you might want to rethink your next vacation to visit.

second point of this story: i have been too preoccupied with life to think of something fun to do to celebrate my birthday. At this rate i will probably rent a car since that seems to be the only cool thing that comes with 25. BUT i am still accepting ideas for better options.