September 2, 2012

Oh, I should so be doing my Pearl of Great Price Homework right now.  See, I just kind of attempted to do it (and completed one of two worksheets, so kudos to me), but definitely bought the wrong packet of readings - Doctrine and Covenants instead of Pearl of Great Price.  Fail.  Whatever, so that's going to have to wait until Tuesday, when I can buy the right one.  

Also, I'm attempting to write this while watching Megamind.  Inadvisable. Have you missed that one?  I think you have...I don't remember...Grand Dreamworks animated film. Focuses on a really crappy supervillian with a heart of gold and his arch-nemesis with a giant chin and great hair.   Voiced by Will Ferrell, Tina Fey, Brad Pitt, David Cross and totally hilarious.  You'll have to see it when you get back if you didn't catch it on the way out.  Of course, following your immediate and undoubtedly repeated viewings of HP 7.1 and 7.2. 

First week of school.  I love school.  I'm such a sick person.  I forget how insanely exciting is the first week of school - I was practically vibrating with happy energy all of Monday.  Classes seem like they will, at the very least, be a lot easier than last fall semester.  Perhaps even an improvement upon Winter and Spring Semesters :)  I kind of love my classes, and my favorite professor - who was supposed to retire, but got roped into one last class - is teaching one of my classes.  I'm excited.  Do you ever feel like some things are promising because they remind you of other really awesome times in your life?  This feels like the beginning of my fall semester sophomore year.  Most auspicious :)

Hahaha the other thing about first semester of school, however, is that Chris is back in my presence on a regular basis.  

Dahahahahhaa.  

First of all, he was good enough to shave his head.  Well, buzz, if we're being fair.  Regardless, he looks nothing like himself.  That's convenient for me.  It's really difficult to do that stupid thing where you reminisce while creepily staring at someone when their head stares back.

[Interruption of regularly scheduled programming to inform you that I just saw a picture of Gandalf with Morgan Freeman's face captioned "Gandalf the Black."]

Also, his girlfriend is a civil engineer (too lazy to check if I already told you that), so I've seen them wandering around the engineering building together.  So marvelously, hilariously awkward.  The way we determinedly avoid eye contact on these occasions is a work of art.  I've decided that awkward totally improves my life.  Awkward is magnificent.  It's hysterical.  90% of my dating stories would stop being funny if awkward weren't a significant part of them.  

Eh, and at least Spencer is off being good with someone else's family now :)  The girl he's marrying is, like, ridiculously beautiful.  She's all giant slanty blue-green eyes and lots of dark wavy hair and some deeply enviable clothes. As long as we're talking about how strangely my mind works, I will confess some weird depression upon seeing her.  I don't miss Spencer (although he's absolutely a wonderful person), but there's nevertheless something unsettling in feeling that you threw away someone who subsequently proceeded to procure an upgrade on you.  

Actually, I could go on for a while about my thoughts on being around people who knew me at specific parts in my life, and how I prefer to avoid people who are connected to certain eras. 

 The reason I have more thoughts to share on this subject: I was surprised to find people in my current ward - boys - who lived in my freshman ward and remembered me.  Was also surprised to find some level of discomfort with that fact. Not their presence - I rather like both of them, actually.  Honestly, I think I weirdly expect people like, not to recognize me if they last saw me during a completely different phase of my life.  Granted, this desire for shock and awe is a little more justified in their case, as I was all chubby with hair about ten inches shorter and practically black the last time they saw me, but still.  This really strange thing happened freshman year...it's like I was moving on a trajectory following high school, completely changed course freshman year, and then went in an altogether new one for the rest of my college experience.  I wasnot. happy. for so much of freshman year, which is a greater contrast to how I am now than the way I look.  I suppose I want people's jaws to drop at how different I am, even if they have no hope of seeing the true depth of my transformation.  And, it must be said, sometimes I vainly just want them to be like, "hey, weird, that girl's actually sort of hot now.  Who knew." 

August 27, 2012

La, la la la, la la.  That reads a lot more entertaining than it did in my head.  So this evening, I finally moved into my gloriously beautiful new apartment.  And it's really every bit as awesome as I'd expected it to be.  My room is giant, compared to many I've had before, and everything else is lovely.  Extra bonus: all the girls here are awesome.  No reservations, they are grand.  I'm going to enjoy this year.  Ha, especially as one of my roommates happens to cook, quite a bit.  But, she says, mostly desserts for her roommates.  Mwahahahahahahaha I have hit the jackpot of places to live.

This week was one of the fastest that has ever passed in my entire life.  I could swear that I was just sitting and typing to you from Lake Chelan.  The week in Chelan and Seattle was marvelous, though.  La.  

So, in Chelan, we first took the ferry up the lake (it's fifty miles long, so I read yet another book on the ferry ride there and back) to a town called Stehekin, which can only be accessed by boat.  It's small, quaint, piney, and perfect.  Oh, my.  It's really quite a stunning place, Washington.  I can't imagine anyone going there and not falling hopelessly in love.  Unless, of course, they lack a soul or similarly crucial element of humanity.  We hiked around Stehekin and got too much pastry and salad and chicken-bacon-feta confections (yeah, that thing was one of the best I've ever tasted) at the local bakery.  Serious.  It's so pretty.  Then Heather and I played around in the lake all day Tuesday, and commented on how we essentially act like ten-year-olds when we're together.  Hahaha.  We got out goggles - which will always make all human beings look like enormous dorks - and dove for rings in the shallow (read: between six and twelve feet deep) place behind the dock, we took turns leaping into the lake into the most exotic fashions we could and did some Olympic gymnast presenting for our dives, because that just seemed necessary.  We painted our toenails on the dock, I threatened to shove her in (and should have, it would have been funny) when she was being a pansy about how cold the water was, and really, it was just awesome.  We then proceeded to take the jet skis out, and Heather let me drive.  

Mwahaha.  

I'm rather more reckless on jet-skis than any other motorized vehicle, and it's really easy to make Heather freak out.  Well, not really, but she squeals loudly, which is entertaining.  I was flipping lots of donuts and seeing how fast I dared crank it to and generally being entertaining.  At some point in there, I started singing Call Me, Maybe.  I really don't know why.  In a magnificent moment that was criminally not preserved for posterity, I was singing at the top of my lungs while turning into a rather hastily accelerated donut, and somewhere in the middle of "Before you came into my life, I-", we were forcibly thrown from the jet-ski, head over life jacket, in what I'm fairly certain is one of the most entertaining moments of my life.  

There was also a really long political discussion amongst my family, as Dan posted a picture of him with Paul Ryan and Mitt Romney on the facebook page for his barefoot shoe company, and got plenty of seriously negative backlash. The people who were respectful enough to write things such as "You can support whoever you like, and I will choose to use my money elsewhere," have my full support.  I'm totally on board with that.  It's the people who were full of, "the founder is a brain dead tool," "moron," "hates women and should be ashamed of himself" with whom I take umbrage.  Dude, where is it written that disagreeing without vitriol is not allowed in politics?  I hate that attitude.  Disagree like a grownup, and for heaven's sake, stop extrapolating to the lowest common denominator.  Come on.  

"Tell me, Kristen - what is it you want in life and how do you see yourself?"

Let's reverse these, because that's more fun.  And this is going to be some very very candid things from me, which in this case means it's going to sound arrogant.  Bear with me.  

How do I see myself...I see myself as someone who loves, above all else.  Imperfectly, unfortunately, but still.  And we're not just talking about people. Quotes from Chris, "It's kind of hilarious, really, you love...like...everything.  Music, movies, people, food, nature, driving, anything.  You love it all."  I will maintain until the end of time that I'm happier because so much makes me happy.  The more people you love, the more people in your life who make you happy.  Ditto everything else.  

As for the rest, I could quite narcissistically go on about myself for ages at a time, but I'll be brief.  I feel like I'm an unusual combination of a lot of things. I'm driven, sarcastic, musical, tough, and have a strong religious center.  I'm content being single, have incredible friends, crack plenty of jokes - witty and off-color alike, enjoy biting off a snappy comeback with a smile, am occasionally wise, and have been told by a remarkable number of friends and family this summer that I can be counted upon to make smart, well-reasoned decisions. 

There's a line in that Carrie Underwood song, from the Enchanted soundtrack - "you just might wind up being glad to be you."  

Quite honestly, the first time I really listened to that line sometime in high school, I cried.  Because I frankly couldn't imagine what that was like.  However, the arrogance that I've been cultivating since you've been gone has come with a sense of appreciation for who I am.  I regularly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.  It's hard to imagine people having it much better than me.  Life is not a contest, and there are plenty of people prettier, smarter, wittier, more talented, whathaveyou.  In the last two years, however, I've found a magical ability to see other people with their talents so clearly outshining mine and still be very, very happy about who I am (usually).  Indeed, to know that I'm exactly who I'm supposed to be, having exactly the experiences I'm supposed to have.  There's a contentment that wasn't here before.  

What do I want from life...  I want other people to feel that contentment and happiness that I feel.  I want to help people reach their potential, because in exploring my own, I've already been astounded at what I'm capable of.  In a year, I'll have a diploma in chemical engineering.  I can't tell you how insane it is to know that I pulled through this, and even acquitted myself well in so doing.  I want to help people be happy like I'm happy, to be happy because they are capable of unlocking their own greatness, and in turn, to help others.  

Up to proofread, down to bed :)

August 20, 2012

Oh, my good, glorious, paradise.  Have I told you about Lake Chelan?  I'm sure, I can't resist gushing about it to people when I get the chance.   Lake Chelan: eastern Washington state, composed of glacial runoff that is icy cold but so window clear you can see straight to the bottom in thirty feet of water.  Where we stay in Lake Chelan is spectacular. Heather's in-laws  own this place right on the lake which was recently renovated. It's a small grey shingled affair with a red door that kind of feels as though you stepped into Nantucket.  There's a big old dock with jet skis and a super nice boat out back - Dan, Heather's husband, ran a wakeboard school from this very dock for several summers both before and after his mission, and consequently has mad wakeboard skills.  It's really enjoyable to watch him do ridiculous things.  The house has a state-of-the-art kitchen and is perhaps exclusively furnished in aggressively tasteful antiques.  That are strangely not twee, actually, which you might expect.  The house is gorgeous, the wrap-around porch is spectacular, and the view of the lake and surrounding town is unbeatable.  

So basically, my life is perfect.  You should be incredibly jealous.  Here's how I've spent my evening - Heather and I went to a farmer's market, where we fed the goats (which are kind of freaking adorable, and that's not as weird as it sounds) and bought sugar cane root beer and blueberries, cherries, and peaches rather larger than my fist and hooooooly crap, they're amazing.  Then we grilled lemon garlic chicken and corn on the cob, ate said fantasticness, Hez and I watched So You Think You Can Dance, we all made peach cobbler together while listening to Tony Bennet and Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble, and then ate said peach cobbler (again, freaking tasty) and Heather and I went and sat in the hot tub and had a crazy long conversation about the mysteries of life.  

You don't care, and I don't care that you don't, you get to read how awesome life is anyway.  

That conversation with Heather was really grand, too, by the way.  Sometimes, I can be helpful in dispensing advice.  This pleases me on the rare occasions that it manages to happen.  Although, a disturbing amount of times tonight, I sounded like a swallowed a fortune cookie.  Or a really lame self-help book. Heather and I are strong where the other is not.  Heather is selfless and humble where I am selfish and conceited.  I am confident in my own worth and assured of who I am where Heather second-guesses herself.  It really is completely perfect that we're sisters.  I was thinking, too, about how amazing are the people that my siblings married - every last one of them.  I love that I have two new sisters and an older brother, all of whom I respect enormously and love, all in their own rights.  

Related on multiple fronts: Cara, Nate's wife and I were talking when I was in Baltimore the other week.  I simply adore Cara.  She is down-to-earth, unassuming, happy, and loving.  Oh, my gosh, I love her.  [Let's be honest, who'd expect any less awesome a spouse from my this-close-to-perfect brother.]  They got married in 2010, and the first time she met me was at high school graduation. I was saying something to Cara, last week, about how I felt like I had changed enormously since coming to college.  She agreed wholeheartedly, "Honestly, I feel like you're...practically a different person, at least from the one I remember.  You...I don't want to say you're a lot calmer, exactly....But you found out what you wanted to do, and I feel like that grounded you, and centered you.  It's obvious that you have far more of a sense of self, and of what you want and who you are."

I've been reading more in the last few days than I have in (quite possibly) years :)  Mmmm, glory.  I reread HP 7 on Thursday, read an entire book called Fated on the drive up, and have since read the first Stieg Larssen novel.  You have to have heard of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.  There is absolutely no way that you're running around Scandanavia, even under cover of a white shirt and black tag, and escaped the pull of that one.  It's good.  Excellent, on a lot of fronts, including literarily (although I will never pretend to be a true judge.  Especially as Google informs me that I just made up literarily).  Graphic, though, definitely.  My brain was a bit mired in strange Swedish impassiveness after finishing it.  

"Fresh off the GRE test as you will be when you read this, I'm sure your superior brain powers will understand what I'm saying beyond my ability to write it. "

Ha.  Hahaha.  hahahahhahahahahhahahaha.  That's sweet.  My brain was essentially deep-fried for all the use I got out of it for the rest of that day.  

"You know, someday I'm going to end up with diabetes, and will be relying on your very successful brother to save my life, and you'll stop him from ending my suffering as retribution for all of the times I've mocked your sciencyness."

If I were feeling obnoxious, I'd inform you that my brother is studying Type 1 diabetes, which you are born with, whereas the type you can develop is Type II.  

August 12, 2012

I can't stop singing "You're So Vain." That is an insanely catchy song.  And I'm singing it because I have my dad's laptop this week, and scoping through his music is an entertaining, if extremely vintage, experience.  This week is so enjoyable.  Mwahaha.  See, the Colony, where I lived this summer, made us all move out August 11.  All other housing contracts for fall begin around August 20.  So, translation - I was really concerned about having to commute down from Salt Lake, like, every day this week so I could go to work and take the GRE (tomorrow.  Morning.  Gah.) But luckily, one of my wonderful and yet mildly crazy friends down here is out of town until this Friday (at which point I'm leaving for Seattle for a week anyway), so I get to stay in her completely empty and very nice apartment  all week long.  My life is glorious.  Seriously, it's so cool to have a place all to myself.  I can do stupid things and walk around in whatever state I feel like and NO ONE is going to interrupt me.  I can play music insanely loudly, I can play my guitar forever.  

You know, Provo really is very pretty.  This girl's room has a gorgeous view of Y mountain and Rock Canyon.  Okay, amendment, Provo itself isn't particularly pretty, but the surrounding mountains are stunning.  Seriously.  I can't tell you the number of times (it may be every year, sometime in February or March when the snow absolutely refuses to go away and I'm drowning in school work) that I look up at Timpanogos, covered in snow and shrouded in pink or purple bits of cloud around sunset, and decide that Provo is worth inhabiting just for that view.

Speaking of inhabiting Provo, I had such high hopes for never getting in trouble with University Parking enforcement (Satan's Provo Cavalry in silver Jeeps).  But then, yesterday, I woke up to a boot on my car, because I'm staying in aforementioned friends house and it's basically impossible to park most places if you don't live there.  Stupid.  But meh, it really wasn't that bad.  I would have appreciated having those fifty dollars back to spend on something else, but....whatever. 

Hahahaa, I also found myself rereading through old facebook conversations the other day, because I got bored.  No one should want to associate with, much less date, someone who finds themselves as stupidly funny as I do.  I legitimately started a word document of all the funniest things I said.  In my opinion.  

Samplers: 

"Waking up in the morning can be a challenge
The enormity of both my greatness and my head are difficult to lift from my pillow."

Me: Oh, you're making assumptions about me, now? Unsurprising.  If unwise.  

Him:  Ha, the funny thing is that I was totally about to call that you'd say something like that.  

Me: potato.  Now stop being so cocky.

Speaking of other funny things you'll appreciate, quotes from Winnie:  "God wrote the bible.  Satan wrote the LSAT."

Hmm, what else.  Oh, funny, weird story.  So, there's this kid from a few months ago that I'm fairly certain I never mentioned (except perhaps in saying things like, "Woo, I have a date this weekend," or similar).He's in Tau Beta Pi presidency with me, and he asked me out early on, and I wasn't particularly into it.  I tried to give him a no, but he insisted that we at least get to know each other, and he would just happen to pay for dinner to facilitate that.  I caved, even though I didn't see it being super likely, but hey, I told him what I thought, and if he wanted to throw money at me anyway, I was definitely not going to stop him.  We went on three dates, between which, I discussed with him the fact that I would be sure to tell him the second I felt like it really wasn't going to happen - we both agreed that that would be a fair course of action.  Haha.  Somewhat hilariously, I began a text conversation after our third date with something like, "Hey, you wanted me to tell you when I was sure..."

and he jumped in immediately with, "Ha, hey, guess what, I'm really not feeling this!"

Bahahaahahaha and even though it seemed fairly convenient, I did believe him.  He and I get along, but there's no real spark.  I don't think.  

Which is why this last week is so strange.  We hung out twice - once, to see Dark Knight Rises (ha, not the first time for either of us) and ride his motorcycle, and once to just eat food and talk.  This second time, we stayed up until two-thirty talking on the couch.  But both times, there was this weird....weird, weird tension.  Christian, it's so bizarre.  Perhaps I'm just crazy.  But I swear to you - I don't like this kid, not like that.  I have no desire to kiss him, and I'm fairly certain that he has none of the same for me.  But there was this distinctively palpable sexual tension when we went to the movie and the other night.  At the movie, he lingered a little in examining my bracelets, pulled me a little closer than necessary on the bike (on the pretext, or perhaps for the actual purpose of making me less cold - dude, going sixty five miles an hour in the wind when you're wearing short shorts and a tee is frigid, regardless of ambient temperature).  Then, when we were talking on the couch, we were sitting way, way closer than was necessary, his hand on my knee (that said me knee originally, bahahah) and occasionally MOVING it. 

Knee tracing is so much more a big deal than simply having your hand on someone's person.  The latter can be an accident, it can be for convenience, it can simply be comfortable.  The former, however...The former is deliberate.  So that was weird.  

Oh, and before you cry foul and say that he's obviously still into me or similar nonsense, we discussed his girl situations all night long.  With a few of my stories thrown in for color, but mostly just, "Oh, what about this girl, this happened with her, do you think I have a chance?"  

The kid does value my opinion a lot, so that's flattering.  

Ha, I don't need to prove cause and effect on marriage and boring.  I just feel like being single sounds like so much more fun.  It's funny, Winnie and I were talking about this this week. Yeah, we want to get married, and it's what we expect to happen at some point down the line.  However, we can both say that we don't really have a problem with the concept of living on our own for the rest of our lives.  As long as you have friends, family, people who care about you....As long as you really do have people in your life to love and support you, it's really not bad at all to be single.  Seriously.  

August 5, 2012

Forgive me for mentioning your life and my lazy summer in the same breath.  I should have thought more that it would sound like I was saying you're not doing anything.  I realize that life is stressful, but enjoy stuff that isn't school stress while you can.  Maybe it's just me who glories in having things that aren't papers and tests and homework to worry about.  It seems like everything else matters less that school.  Obviously, the church is a different story.  But even so, the gospel seems so much harder to mess up in a gigantic way than does school.  Can I explain that?  Nah, not really, it's late and I'd undoubtedly do an abysmal job.

Thinking I'm funny may legitimately kill me one day.  It would have already if my self-entertainment extended to feats of physical comedy.  

Being in Maryland has been lovely.  My nephew is so freaking cute, man.  It's ridiculous.  He talks so much.  He's only two, but he always speaks in full, very articulate sentences.  He's going to be a freaking smart kid, and he's already a crazy smart toddler.  Haha he loves people so much, too.  Samples of our conversations:

Brecken:  I like your blue eyes!

Kristen:  I like your brown eyes!

Brecken: Hahahaha I like my brown eyes, too.  

Brecken:  Ha Ha Ha Kristen, you're funny!!

Brecken (seriously, not making this up): Kristen, look at the excavators digging in the fields!

Brecken:  Oh, I like this book, it's interesting!  

He's hilarious.  And adorable.  And freaking does not listen to me at all, because is well aware that I have no jurisdiction whatsoever.  But still.  Love him.  He likes it when I read things to him, and make up more voices than I knew I was capable of for all of his stuffed animals.  

My niece is also adorable.  She's just sweet and happy.  She's Nate's daughter (Brecken belongs to Dustin, whose wife, Carrie, is pregnant with a little girl) and I'm at Nate's tonight, having spent most of the week with Dustin and Carrie.  I get to see Nate's lab at Hopkins tomorrow and I'm sooooo excited.  

July 16, 2012

I just read an article on the history of mooning, and reflected that this is one of many reasons I'm happy to live in the information age - even stupid and yet strangely fascinating information such as that, at my fingertips.  Lovely.  

 Apparently, Chris really didn't know if we were officially broken up or not, and so just waited a few days to see if I'd text him, and when I didn't, concluded that we had, in fact, broken up.

My friend Heather was dating a guy for about six months, they broke up in January.  A week later, he started dating a girl who'd broken off an engagement herself in the past week. Then they got engaged a month later.  
These things work for some people, they really do.  I still find it fascinating that this got to happen, though, because if any of the above were key points in one of my relationships, my mom would lock me up and declare that I was not leaving until I agreed with her that I was acting crazeh.  

As for other things.  Haha, I got back together with and broke up with Chris this week.  And had some really good support for my rule about not talking to exes for a while after you break up :P  

To the recounting of tales!
(Don't ask where that came from, I really have no idea and it's weird.)

We missed each other, started texting on Monday, and I finally just threw caution to the winds and told him that I wanted to see him.  So we saw each other, hooked up again, and (kind of hilariously) as he was leaving that night, I grabbed him by the face and said, "Hey, you know that there's every possibility that I will wake up tomorrow and think that this was the worst idea ever, yes?  And there's just as legitimate a possibility that I will want us to get back together?"  
Chris: "I know.  But you're smart, you're rational, and you make good decisions.  I trusted your choice to break up, your decision to do this today, and wherever you decide to go from here, I trust your judgment.  I really do."  
Obviously, I felt like we should maybe give this another try.The second I told him, I had this immediate, very calm feeling that that was not a good decision.  
Haha to which I was like, "Er....but....I'll revisit that again, if this sticks around for a little."
It did, as a matter of fact, I just kept feeling really strongly  that it was not a good idea.

So I knew what I had to do, and really, really didn't want to - this back-to-Chris experience really only let me know more how much good there was in that relationship.  And subsequently remind me that I had to chuck it.  Things that suck...
 
But bahaha, please enjoy the tale of the world's weirdest break up with me.  

I told him exactly how I felt, and he said again that he trusted my judgment, even in this case.  

We then spent the next three hours on my couch joking and being stupid and telling each other all the things we'd appreciated about the relationship and each other and how happy we were that we had that experience.  Extolled each others virtues at length and in great detail, and told each other what we'd miss about each other.  We told all of our lame inside jokes and talked about how we can't hook up and how I won't be texting him for a while, to prevent this happening again.  He made me promise not to hook up with stupid guys anymore, to which I responded that I couldn't even really see the appeal anymore.  

All of this was interspersed with comments on how this is absolutely the weirdest breakup that anyone ever had.  

July 9, 2012

 Legally Blonde is on in my hotel room.  She gets a flipping 179 on her LSAT.....that's kind of ridiculous.  Extremely.

Anyhow.  So you're old.  Hope you celebrated that acceptably.  I probably ate enough cake for both of us - I went to a wedding for a second cousin tonight near Valencia, California, and I'm there for another twenty-four hours.  This has been such a very strange week, I've been with some form of second cousin all week, and eating like three or four times the amount of food I should be.  Dang, I really have to be crazy good when I get home.  And go back to work....Boo...

More on my ridiculously great week later. 

Oh, gosh, and legally blonde is ridiculously distracting.  Good heavens, this is taking me forever.  

Continuing.  

Interesting.  I feel like I occasionally have serious disconnect from my emotions.  Kind of because I don't really remember the last time I felt desperately sad or completely, impossibly angry. As in, those were years ago.  I get twenty-four-hour displeasure or mild stress for a week or two, but I always know that things are going to work out, and therefore have trouble getting seriously depressed about things.  As for angry...I just don't really have an explanation for why I don't get pissed off to the same extent I used to be capable of.  Annoyance still happens, sometimes to an extent that worries me, but...dang, I used to be all mildly crazy and FEISTY, and I really can't explain what happened to that.

Ha, oh, as for Chris, the pretty much entire transcript of our actual breakup:

Kristen - We need to break up.

Chris [Levelly] - Okay.

Long pause, hug

Kristen, from somewhere around Chris's armpit - I want to say something kind of cliche.

Chris - Ha, hit me with it. 

Kristen - I'm sorry this is my fault.  

Chris - No, it's really not.  Good night.  

Kristen - Good night.

Did I mention that as I walked to the door, I had to ask myself if I thought Chris really understood that we had broken up?  Because that conversation was so fast and so simple that I couldn't be sure.  

On to my life, we had a family reunion this week, and I finally got to see my niece.  Oh, my niece.  Five months old, and she has eyes that look like Nate's and a good deal like mine when I was a baby and gigantic cheeks.  You know, as a child, I never understood that incredibly weird relative thing where they pinch your cheeks....I'm going to be that crazy aunt.  So worth it.  Oh, my, there is nothing like having a baby fall asleep on you.  I'd get her after loads of people had held her and she'd just put her head on my shoulder and crash.  Five seconds flat.  McKinley is the sweetest, happiest baby, and she smiles a ton, and I die over how cute she is and seriously, no one has cuter nieces and nephews than I do.  No one.  

My siblings and I all went out on the boat as well.  Oh, glory.  I suck at wakeboarding, have we canvassed this?  Dan was a wakeboard instructor, so he's actually been successful at getting me upright, but I do not stay that way.  Ever.  Embarrassing.  It was so much fun to be with my family, though.  Oh my, and my cousins....Bahahaha.  We play some freaking INVOLVED games of mafia.  Like each round is fifteen minutes of discussion, minimum, and most of us were over eighteen and very skilled at the game.  We played a few times with rounds of discussion on who people should vote to execute that lasted for forty-five minutes, an hour, and I cannot even tell you the amazing out loud psychoanalysis everyone was doing.  

We also play lots of scum.  I was king for several rounds.  Please hold your applause until I get to hear it in person.  

Let's see, what else, what else.....My life is lovely.  I don't want to go back to work on Tuesday.

Belated, but still present

(June 25, 2012)
So I'm slow.  Also kind of shameless in that I'm taking ten or so minutes at work to write this. 

Also, quite pleased that other people are making use of pfft.  It's a very helpful onomatopoeia. 

Will you tell me the story of the mission president trying to get his wife to marry him, please? That sounds entertaining.  

Haha you know, it would be crappy not to sleep in again...but only if you're keeping insanely late hours.  I've been following curfew at BYU for pretty much the first time in my life, and I've got to say that as a result, I really don't care about getting up the same time every day. K, it's only eight, but I still feel like that qualifies as not sleeping in.  You may disagree, forced, as you are, to get up at 6:30 AM on a daily basis (an hour I haven't seen more than once a month [if that] since high school).  But still.  Eight AM all summer long is fairly good, wouldn't you say?


Thank you for giving me the opportunity to report that by some untold miracle, I got an A- in Biochem and a freaking A in UO lab.  Seriously, I was terrified this semester that I was going to pull lower grades than I've ever seen in my entire life, and instead, my GPA will be going up.  Not a ton, mind you, but still.  Hahahaha. 

Hey, and in my defense, I liked high school and the people in it, as well.  I realize why you think I didn't, since you've received a few whinging emails on the subject of "blah, blah, blah, I can't hang out with high school people because I'm pathetic," but really, it's just that I've become even happier now.  And I was seriously extremely happy for most of high school; it was awesome.  I have some journal entries to prove it.  The difference now is that I've learned not to waste time on insecurity, which is something I didn't know how to do in high school.  Unfortunately, I haven't grown up quite enough to be able to hang onto that philosophy even when in similar situations as those that originally prompted such irrationality.

Non-sequitur, I miss your parents.  Like a lot.  Your family in general is really great and awesome. 

"although you are proof that such a divide does not inherently have to stand in the way of anything. Those lazy people."
Anti-laziness WINNN.  Hey, I'm capable of some grand things when properly motivated.  Like writing you somewhat faithfully for the better part of two years. 

More on coordination, I was texting and walked into yet another wall this week.  Chris was around to see it this time, though.  There were promptly many recreations. 

sleep

(June 4, 2012)
Bad things happen when I have vaguely unsettling dreams and my room roommate is gone.  Namely, I wake up a little freaked out and then cannot for the life of me sleep anymore.

But it does mean you get a letter. 

It's the last week of school, and I have no clue what's going to happen with my grades.
Serious.  A little distressed about that. 

As soon as school ends, I have to start studying for the GRE.  And going back to being healthy.  And working hours closer to full time than any I've previously had.

Oh, hahaha to you if you think I'm going to tell you my GPA.  It's not bad, fairly good, so they tell me, but it's still not quite close enough to perfect for me to be happy about telling you what it is :P

My life is good.  Have to say though, the dating is weird.  I keep going mildly back and forth on whether it's a good idea and I keep being surprised at the fact that I'm just so enormously comfortable having most of my time all to myself that that is what is the greatest adjustment for me. 

However, all else is good, so I'm trying to take time on this.
 

(no subject)

(May 28, 2012)
Gah.  It kills me that even though you won't go to bed for about another hour and a half, you won't get this for a whole week.  My own fault for being a massive slacker friend, but all the same...

Answers to the below:
My job actually is boring.  Possibly the worst I've ever had, on that front.  I'm hoping that it will get better when I can devote more time to it, as opposed to school and socializing, in a couple weeks, but....we shall see.  Whatever. Money.
 
Answers from your most recent letter:
Ha and I'm used to Provo being ghetto, but bedbugs are a new low.  You boys should perhaps be concerned.

Don't be rude about my inability to follow lines.  

My six-hour class actually isn't too bad.  And I only have FOUR of them left.  I don't know what will happen with my grades this semester....at all...Oh, dear.  But at least it's almost over. 

You seem to be under the impression that I have a thorough enough grounding in statistics/enjoy them enough to discuss them outside school, ever, to contradict you.  That's sweet.

In which I concede

(March 12, 2012)
ON to the comp drama, which was, as promised, thrillingly dramatic :) 
Here's the thing that I think people (including myself to a significant degree) occasionally forget: Dating. Is. Crappy.  It just kind of is, on a lot of fronts.  This is not to say it isn't glorious when it works out. It is the best example of something in which in an ideal world, you really are only supposed to succeed ONCE.  It's rough out there, full of rejection and losing at every point in the game.  You don't get what you want, or you get too much of what you want and are forced into nasty, unhappy decisions between great human beings.  It's hard for most people, to some degree or another, because it's never entirely within your control.  The best thing to be done with dating is to realize that you can learn and grow from what makes you unhappy, and that God has every intention that you do so.  

Thought I remembered upon reading this story:
My mission prep teacher made a healthy argument for dating people that you don't definitely see yourself marrying; in his words:
"I'm always intrigued by those who feel the need to pray about whether they should date someone.  For heaven's sake - unless they can't take you to the temple, there's really no reason not to just give it a go.  You need those relationships to make key, stupid mistakes.  And if you don't have relationships with expendables [haha a somewhat unfortunate usage he intended to mean "people you're NOT going to spend eternity with"] you're saving those mistakes for the unexpendables, the people you can't and shouldn't lose hold of.  Does that sound ideal? NO!"


Companion, right.  I'm sure you didn't actually intend for me to hop my Clydesdale in quite so significant a fashion when you sent me this, so my apologies.  I just have a lot of feelings, which I invariable decide MUST be shared. 

Also, people are dumb when they assume that losing one great person means they've lost them all.  The way this world teems with people dripping with hilarity, beauty, intelligence, wit, fun, and personability is nothing short of ridiculous.  You start looking for it and begin to get freaked out by just how many people are straight up incredible.  In my opinion.  Corollary: it's easy, but false to assume that being alone equates to being unhappy, because unless you live in solitary confinement, you are not alone.  People should never discount the happiness that is part and parcel with friendship, great hobbies, and generally just living your life contentedly.  

In which boys are stupid

(March 5, 2012) I begin to feel that my email subject lines are like Friends episode titles. "The one with five steaks and an eggplant." "The one with All the haste." "The one with all the kissing." (Yeah, that could legitimately be one of my email subject lines. Well, not for a month or two now, I guess...) And no, I totally didn't just go to Wikipedia to look up the most random and/or entertaining Friends titles I could quickly find. That would be lame.

I have a lot to share. Be excited.

Dang, I'm starting this super late.

Crap.

Yeah, I think a lot of people aren't aware of how religious I am. I wish that were less a conscious decision, but I feel like people tend to stay away from you if they expect judgment regarding their weaknesses or hobbies or lifestyles. Although it would perhaps be better to let my light shine in a different way, I prefer to be someone from whom people don't fear judgment, and therefore I absolutely try not to seem overly hardline on the religion front.
Which is probably kind of a bad thing.
But whatever.
Oo, do tell me why I would not get along with this comp? I feel like this could be entertaining.
[My mother is under the impression that I find a sort of sick satisfaction in clashing with boys when I think I can win. She might be right.]

I'm weirdly magnetic of late

(February 19,2012)
My life is incredibly lovely. Just for the record. It's going to suck tomorrow, when I do pretty much all the homework for this weekend that I've put off (it's Presidents' Day, information which I'm fairly certain needs to be brought to your attention, as you forgot about Valentine's Day) and I have a Tau Beta Pi report due Tuesday. Haha. Oh, crap, and I need to call Provo power and get our bill transferred to my name.

Procrastination is my enemy. I don't know how many times I will have to tell myself that before I will listen all of the time.

Last of all, reading your analysis of the facebook comments made me realize, for the first time, that you might come back and find me really, really different. I know I've been changing, and I know you read a butt-load of my thoughts every single week, and I have no doubt that you've noticed at least some minute differences, but I realized that there's a lot of my personal interaction quirks that have changed that have no way of making their way to you over in Norway :) I think that you still know me well enough that you're right on most counts - notably, that I kind of subconsciously expect most guys to only be attracted to me, if they want me at all. But I think I'm a lot cockier about my attractiveness than I was when you left. No, I'm like, 99.9% sure I'm much cockier about boys wanting me than I used to be. Which I've mentioned, of course, but I don't know that you'll ever really get to see the effects of that. I kind of just realized this because you disagreed with the "everyone at the table" comment, which, hilariously enough, is the statement I considered closest to the truth.

I'm about to briefly showcase that arrogance, so you can sort of see what I mean. See, Christian, in college, I've discovered that if I'm the only girl with a group of guys, I can, with very little effort, control the conversation. I can talk to, and quite frankly, flirt with an entire room at a time, if they're receptive. I'm not saying that they all go home totally in love. I'm not even saying that at any point all, most, half, or even any of them will be genuinely interested. But I can give everyone just enough floor time and just enough direct attention that it's kind of like having seven different conversations at once, and it's fascinating. And I enjoy it to a somewhat disgusting extent. To be fair, if there's any other girls present, particularly outgoing and better looking ones than me (not difficult in Provo [actually, that describes almost all of my friends anywhere at any given time]), they have no difficulty upstaging me and I cheerfully cede that right to them. I almost never pull focus with groups of girls, and I'm really okay with that. I just enjoy the attention when it's me and guys :)

It will be interesting to see what you think in general when you return. Although that particular thing is something you'll probably never witness, as it requires a group of boys we didn't go to high school with, and I can't see us in a situation involving a room filled with boys that don't fit into that designation.

Alright, now, I should close, but I really want to tell you about this week. I was weird this week. Like easily bothered. And a kid called me a bitch. Be excited for the stories.

I was talking to this kid that I barely know on facebook chat. He's told me before that he thinks that girls should give ALL guys at least three dates. Seriously. Regardless of whether or not she's attracted to him, regardless of anything at all she feels about him - three dates. Which is a little crazy, but whatever, I suppose, until I was talking to him the other night. He begins to whinge about the fact that he, and I quote, "can't get any play." He proceeds to say that girls ignore him and shut him down constantly. I mildly suggest that sometimes, the culprit for that can be asking out girls of just one type, and perhaps he should consider branching out.
"Oh, if you're suggesting that I ask out girls that I don't find attractive, that is not happening."

Yeah.

So I might have spewed some nasty vitriol for all I was worth over facebook chat.

Because that's among the most repugnant of double standards that I've ever had the misfortune of hearing. It got better when he said that President Packer said you should date a girl who's attractive over one who's spiritual, because the latter has the possibility of improvement, and the former does not. It got better still when he whipped out a chip the size of Everest on his shoulder about how he's the greatest, smartest, most athletic, most musically talented guy in the whole world, and that he works so much harder on being a good person than any guy ever has, so obviously girls should want him.

It was about when I told him that he could change all he wanted, but if he didn't change his paradigm, he wouldn't get any girls, that he started getting really angry.

I might have called him an asshole. So it wasn't totally unwarranted. But I will never appreciate being called a bitch.

I think the last time that happened was in ninth grade, when I called Tanner Hanks a perv for trying to get me to send him a picture of me in a bikini. That was his retort.

I really don't know what came over me. I apologized profusely to this kid the next day, saying that I didn't know him and that I shouldn't have come down on him so hard, and he accepted, but I feel kind of hideous that I still stand by my feelings - that kid is going to continue to fail in dating if he continues to do it that way.

Ha. So, basically, I was a really bad person this week and felt like crap about that. I also might have been rather unnecessarily snappy to Spencer when he called me a skank (jokingly, but I didn't read it that way).

It was good, because a lot of the time, I think of "treating others kindly and as I would like to be treated or better" as one of those areas that can be left alone in favor of other, more significant personality flaws, but this was a somewhat unpleasant reminder that I'm perfect in no direction :P Hahaha oh, and I don't remember the last time I legitimately lost my temper with someone.
So that was just great.

P.S. I gave a musical number in my parents' ward today, and people were really really nice about it. I just played a Chopin nocturne, but it made me incredibly happy. That is all.

Valentine's Day, Part Two

(February 13, 2012)
Also, I shouldn't keep going, because that email is already longer than usual, no mean feat. But I had the following facebook chat with someone who took me on a date and wish to know to what extent you concur. The following are all statements he made.

You put off this "I can't be caught" vibe, but you talk as if you throw yourself around a bit behind the scenes.

But kissing boys is not what I mean. You put off the vibe of "oh sure, if you're hot and you're a tool, maybe you can make out with me, but no one can REALLY have me."

I got that vibe from you the first time I ever spent any time around you, that being at the Tau Beta Pi initiation dinner, and we didn't even talk.

You're attractive, and not the type that goes unnoticed. You have a knack for having the attention turn to you in a crowd...probably caused by a mix of you wanting the attention and other people wanting yours.

You never got too involved in a conversation with any guy at the table, no matter how hard they were trying to be funny and impress you, but you still laughed at the jokes and played along.

It's really throwing me off. I can think of almost no experiences where I have come away from a first date just as confused about what I thought of someone. I generally decide whether or not I'm interested in one date. One interaction, even. When you know, you know, right? I guess not...

[First, he proceeds to extol my virtues kindly, and then]

But you also strike me in a lot of ways as the antithesis of girls I'm generally interested in. Playing easy to get physically but not otherwise, perhaps a bit too aware of how wanted you are, easygoing to the point of wanting to prove you're a little "bad."



So, none of this is me bragging, I swear. I'm just really intrigued at this kid's take, and wish to know your opinion of some or all of the above - both the fact that he said them so baldly and whether you agree.


Yes, this is all about me.


Sorry.

Valentine's Day approaches!! Hearts are everywhere!!

(February 13, 2012)
Oh, what a lovely evening. I definitely slept a lot today, but given that I was awake until five AM two nights ago and three AM last night, I feel justified. I'm kind of nervous about tomorrow - I have a test in Heat and Mass Transfer, which could either be ugly or surprisingly okay, and then I have a fifteen minute presentation I'm giving on some of my brother's research. I haven't rehearsed the latter and I've barely studied for the former. I've justified my seriously weak studying thus far because it's open book, notes, homework, what have you, but somehow that's only making me more nervous. Bahaha.
Alright, that's boring.
So, uh, Courtney's setting KAITLIN up with Spencer this weekend.
Ba
Ha
Ha
Ha
hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

I confess that when Kaitlin texted me, telling me that she'd noticed that Spencer and I were friends and what should she think of him, I called her and told her way too much. Like pretty much everything's that's happened with Spencer and I. All the same, I see them getting along quite well and I know for a fact she'll enjoy herself, because he's a great guy. I also feel like if it weren't for the fact that Kaitlin will undoubtedly NOT consider Spencer as a serious candidate since I told her about all of our history (I was nice, I'm just saying that I don't see Kaitlin feeling comfortable dating him under the circumstances), they would do quite well together. Kaitlin lacks several major deficiencies I possessed that prevented the Spencer/Me thing, primary among them the fact that she is sensitive where I am not, and enormously selfless where I am not. I see that working.

And one of the awesomest quotes ever, to begin your week:

"There is one responsibility which no man can evade; that responsibility is his personal influence. Man's unconscious influence is the silent, subtle radiation of personality - the effect of his words and his actions on others. THis radiation is tremendous. Every moment of life man is changing, to a degree, the life of the whole world.
Every man has an atmosphere which is affecting every other man. He cannot escape for one moment from this radiation of his character, this constant weakening or strengthening of others. Man cannot evade the responsibility by merely saying it is an unconscious influence.
Man can select the qualities he would permit to be radiated. He can cultivate sweetness, calmness, trust, generosity, truth, justice, loyalty, nobility, and make them vitally active in his character. And by these qualities he will constantly affect the world.
This radiation to which I refer comes from what a person really is, not from what he pretends to be. Every man by his mere living is radiating either sympathy, sorrow, morbidness, cynicism, or happiness and hope or any one of a hundred other qualities. Life is a state of radiation and absorption. To exist is to radiate, to exist is to be the recipient of radiation."
-David O. McKay

Oh, the things I wish to say...

(February 6, 2012)
I have so much that I want to tell you right now, because I'm immensely....grrr. Sigh. Throwing wrenches in my own well-laid plans, frankly. However, they involve boys. I will decide, after replying in general, whether or not I will be noble enough to keep these things to myself.

On, pre-church discussion for the dating panel was marvelous because it was much more about general dating things and vaguely gender-political questions as regards dating, which will undoubtedly fascinate me until I'm married and honestly, probably even after that. I had much to say on the subject and was quite pleased to see my words well-received. Among my wisdom (which yes, I'm totally going to quote here under the almost totally un-ironic heading of "wisdom")
*There is a reason girls shouldn't and don't ask guys out. And it's not because the social construct is biased, it's not because we're lazy, or poor, or anything else. It's that girls halve their chance with a guy (at a generous estimate) when they take away so significant an element of the chase. People want what they can't have. Boys most especially want what they can't have. If I'm going to hand it to someone, I'm more than well aware that I will get it back the second they're bored of making out.

* Mixed messages are way more often a no than a yes. Everyone would be happier if they lived under this understanding. If boys don't want to deal with a girl who plays games, they shouldn't - if she's messing with your mind, get out of there. Stop pursuing her, stop hanging out with her. If she really wants you, the texts and the "haven't seen you in a while ;)" s and so on will begin tout de suite.
Serious.

Alright, fine, I suppose I won't be noble and I am going to subject you to this. You probably should hear about it, if you have a vested interest in that general area. Christian....I'm so confused. It's perplexing to want, with great agony and longing, things I don't think I can have, and then have them taken away from me and not be distressed in the slightest. I don't get myself. At all. And for the first time, I'm really concerned about what this could mean. There have been boys that I thought I cared about, and by all accounts I did - worrying about them and helping them out and even praying for them - only to discover, when they waltzed out of my life, that I was totally fine, if a bit out of sorts for maybe twenty-four hours or so. I've never cried about a boy in my entire life, did you know that? I feel like I've programmed myself not to care about boys romantically. It's strange, because I feel as though I do genuinely care about people in general....but boys....I don't know.

Which is the sort of thing I've been worrying about since an in-depth conversation with close friends made me feel like missing the boat on relationships (you know, actually having them and stuff) is going to be a considerably greater problem than I'd originally assumed.

And then, this week, Grant wanted me to make out with him so badly, and we frankly almost did. And I find myself tangled knowing that that would be a horrible idea and realizing how much it distresses me to miss out on that, but feeling like I don't care about him at all romantically while simultaneously hoping in a very sincere way that he's able to work out the things that are screwed up in his life, that he learns to be happy, and also still being attracted to him.

[Would just like you to know that I thought about somehow editing that painful four or so sentences that I decided to put into the unholy amalgamation you see above, but decided not to once I realized just how strongly it reminded me of Hermione's explanation of Cho's feelings in Order of the Phoenix. To which Ron replies that one person can't feel all that at once. Hope you've got more than the emotional range of a teaspoon...]

I'm just so confused....I thought attraction to and sincere concern and appreciation for another person was all you needed to date someone, and if that was reciprocated, boom. Done. Relationship. It seems so simple. And yet I find myself meeting people that I feel both for and don't want to be with, and likewise meeting people who think similar things about me.

Christian....How does this ever work out...for anyone....

I'm just....meh. I think I'm also just grumpy at wanting something I can't have and telling myself over and over again that it would be a capital H Horrible Idea. Knowing that smart Kristen is right. Knowing that if I had the opportunity, I would totally be flouting her advice.


Ha.

Alright, it's one AM, I need to stop. You're probably going to ignore at least some of that.

But I'm pretty sure I did rather well on my first two tests for my tough classes, so :)

My roommate has just informed me that my lotion smells of fruit roll-ups. The things you miss in Norway.

(January 30,2012)
For a change, we'll do random tidbits from my life first and then reply to your emails. Hung out with Spencer again and had a weird convo with him about how it was utterly bizarre to me that I could enjoy hanging out with him and genuinely appreciate him as a person as much as I do and not be remotely distressed at the thought of him dating someone else. Certainly not nearly so distressed as I was at the thought of me not dating anyone else. Dang. The more I see of dating, the more I feel like nothing makes a great deal of sense.

Which is just marvelous, because I got called upon by the bishop to be part of a panel from the ward to discuss dating and relationships for our second and third hour lesson today in church.
Ha. Ha. Ha. At last count, number of people who, upon hearing of this decision, laughed or called into question the sanity of my bishopric: five. Sigh. The bishopric had everybody write down random dating questions, and then assembled a group of seven or eight of us to talk about it before church today to assure, as much as possible, that the lesson wouldn't devolve into a battle of the sexes. Pre-church discussion was actually quite marvelous. Great thoughts were shared, and I took up way more than my share of the floor. This, however, did not translate to church discussion.
Oh, such a painful two hours of church we all endured today....Everyone had something to say. Everyone took a good five minutes to share their thoughts. BLAAAAH. It was death. Someone afterwards suggested that the panel should have done all the talking. While that idea has many deficiencies (among them that I would for all intents and purposes be an abysmally non-representative mouthpiece for girls in the ward), it certainly would have saved us listening to eighty million sob stories of getting turned down and positively painful discussions of making out.

Ha, related. During before church discussion, bishop brought up the inevitable making out question (Which someone had conveniently written, "Is making out okay?" - Thanks, dude.) and said that he really wanted to discuss it, but that he didn't want to seem out of touch. He asked for suggestions. As everyone else seemed afraid to share what I feel is generally accepted knowledge, I bravely stepped forward.
"Honestly, Bishop," I said, somewhat haltingly, "I have to say that it is incredibly rare, in my experience, to know people who both date regularly and don't make out. Really, incredibly rare. While it is technically something that I have been told is not okay, I do not know very many people who abstain purely due to their own decisions."

While I was concerned that this would bring on a firestorm, it was calmly discussed that it would seem out-of-touch and ignorant to simply denounce making out for being bad (Because a majority so healthy it could run marathons does, in fact, make out on the regular and not feel bad about it), it had to be said that making out was dangerous territory, and that everyone should know that they're playing with fire when they make out. Not condoning, but not unaware that it's almost a universal practice. How I feel regarding this subject is a topic for another day. Besides, you probably already know that anyway. What is unfortunate is that for all this, the bishop gave his spiel, only to have his wife stand up afterwards, "I'd just like to congratulate all of you who haven't been in make-out sessions. I always told my children not to kiss while they were dating, and I really do not think that it is necessary to kiss when...."

And I honestly can't report what she said after that.

The wonderful thing was that I was, in fact, seated at the front, facing the entire ward, meaning that I got to watch about 98% of the wards' eyes widen in collective aghast....ment. tion? ness? Whatever.

Ha and the reason that Grant is weird is the fact that yes, he obviously wants some action, but he also enjoys my company and genuinely wants me to be his friend. All while really really not being interested. What the fuh? That is weird. Come on. And the fact that he flirted with as seeming sincerity as any genuinely interested boy I've ever known, only for me to hear him say that he'd never been interested and really, I was into him? Was kind of ground- and paradigm-shakingly insane, I tell you.

Your email was difficult to respond to, are you aware of that?

(January 23, 2012)
On to more interesting things: I still have stories to tell that I don't know that you want to hear. I'll tell you some of the Grant, at least, because he remains positively the most unusual boy ever.

We hung out last weekend, and I will simply give you a rough transcript of some of the high points.

Grant: Do you want to hear something nice someone said about you?
Kristen [smiling broadly]: Is that a serious question?
Grant: So my roommate Nick saw you walking to school yesterday and came in and was like, "Kristen is so attractive. Like so good-looking."
Kristen: Ha! That is marvelous. On the short list of things I never tire of hearing, that people find me attractive is really really up there.
[Pause, in which Kristen appears to concentrate very hard]
Grant: What is that face?
Kristen: It just became really important that I remember what I was wearing yesterday.
Grant: It's true, though.
Kristen: That I need to remember what I was wearing yesterday? Glad you concur.
Grant: No, you're attractive.
Kristen [cautious, suspicious and skeptical]: uh....huh.....anyway.....

{Conversation proceeds to other topics for a while, and eventually comes around to the madness that was my Christmas break and the week following, and story swapping commences}

Grant: Yeah, and I even kissed a girl the same day I met her.
Kristen: Nice! That's totally on my bucket list. A guy. Eh, well I guess that I've technically done that, if you count dares, but I don't count those.
Grant: You don't count dares?
Kristen: Pfft. Of course not.
Grant: So I could dare you to kiss me right now?
Kristen [who is immediately regarding Grant from one slitted eye]: .....Technically.....but anyway....

[Roommates enter, and Grant and I are unable to talk as candidly as before, and he begins texting me from across the room]
Grant: So my cousin Brady. You should make out with him.
Kristen: Ha. Meh. Might second string him.
Grant: What does that mean?
Kristen: Oh, come on, use that snark for good instead of evil just this once and figure it out.
Grant: So who's first string?
Grant: Say it's me.
Kristen: Oh shut up :P

And then, as he walks me home:
Grant: I was so excited for you to come over so I could talk to you, it's too bad that everyone else had to come.
Kristen: Yeah, I know, I really like just talking to you.
Grant: I was thinking, "Kristen's coming over, this is going to be hot."
Kristen: ...ha....no you weren't.
Grant [In tones of sincerity]: Yeah, I kind of was.

He later texted me that evening and told me that he was hoping we could hook up.

My immediate response to which was: "Oh, you odd person. No, you weren't."

In other news, my brother Dustin called me a skank and told me to stop messing with boys' feelings and then proceeded to give me a really long lecture about how you can't just make out with boys without them caring about you. Sigh. Would that that were true, but excluding notable exceptions such as Spencer (which isn't entirely fair, as he was a substantial part of why we were having this conversation), boys are quite fine if they make out with me and never see me again. Grant certainly would not have been heart broken if we'd taken that particular course. (We didn't).

Anyhow, this should end, as I have enormous homework fixing to do before school tomorrow. Growl. SO do not want to finish homework tomorrow. Oh, and I just decided that I'm going to attach the thought paper I did for mission prep to this email. Am I? huh. Maybe I won't. You're judgy and I wrote it in forty-five minutes or so today. Eh. I'm doing it anyway.

I also want books to read. So badly. When I was sick on MLK, Jr. Day I spent the entire day rereading Hunger Games one. MARVELOUS decision. But now I want more of the candy.

Alright. Have to go to bed.

Give me more to work with this week, and you won't have to endure long letters about things you don't particular care for :)

In which I drone on and on

(January 1, 2012)
HEAVY DISCLAIMER: Having read through it several times now, I can certifiably say that this email is really me using you as a sounding board for some of the at times odd, perplexing, and vaguely profound thoughts of this week. You've been warned. I'll be impressed if you make it to the end, and floored if you can muster any response that is not "Kristen, you are one hundred percent, certifiably, clinically, qualifiably, and under any other number of adverbs, insane. Oh, and you talk too much." Happy reading :)




Whiner. I was going to write you something last week, but as it happens...I ended up spending a massive chunk of the evening with Spencer. That dalliance, incidentally, is rapidly climbing my charts for newest, oddest, most unique and somehow, for all of that, not least pleasant boy dalliance ever. I mean, we aren't dating and we won't ever be, due to my own decision, but still. Odd.

I'll be telling you a lot about that and thoughts as derivatives thereof, by the way, so I hope you're prepared for this to be a fat email indeed.

Let's start with the weird thing that was the Spencer Christmas Special, and go from there.

Told you about the random make out following the Spencer night. I think I also shared that we both said that we had no idea what it meant and that we were okay with that. However, the reason Spencer was over that particular night was that Heather wanted to meet him. She thought he was great, and upon being informed the next morning that I'd made out with him, she gave me stern face and told me that she felt like he was a great guy and in no uncertain terms was I to mess with him. I insisted that it wasn't like that. I don't know what it was like, but I can at least conclusively state that it was not like that. Coming back around by way of the Strait of Magellan to my point, however, Heather liked him, and she and her husband not only conspired among themselves to decide that the two of us should date, she told my brothers about the Spencer. And my sisters-in-law. Which was fine, but they all definitely wanted to meet him. Also fine, but this meant that Spencer not only met, but hung out with my entire family over the break as we played games. It was so bizarre.....Really, just bizarre because it should have been the most unpleasant, weird experience ever. I fully expected it to be. Instead, it was all strangely comfortable and entertaining. Naturally, this cemented an immediate Family Coalition for Kristen to Just Give a Nice Guy a Chance, This Once. Sigh. So weird to have my family know a guy that I'm dating. Or whatever this....is....

Parenthetically, I counted: Boys who have both had face time (of any length, including the please-floor-open-up-and-chew-me-in-half moment that was Tyson saying "sup" to my mom) with either of my parents and kissed me: five. Boys who have actually had some kind of measurable conversation with either of my parents and kissed me....pretty much Spencer. Freaky. Weird. I don't know that I'm ok with it weird.

Anyhow, so we kept with the making out and actually talking (also super weird. Dude. I don't even know what Spencer did to deserve this. So odd.) for a few more days until I felt compelled to text (not say...of course not...) something to the effect of, "Uh...Spencer....I have no idea what to think of this." I was growing uneasy. Because even though he was nice and easy to be around and everything, I knew that I was not going to date him. We'd said that the fact that he lived in Salt Lake and I live in Provo rendered any dating discussion moot, but I was worried that he'd kind of want to rescind that.

After I texted this, he insisted that he talk to me in person about the above, or to be more accurate, he said that he had a "prepared statement" regarding the matter, to deliver. Ha. Said prepared statement, if memory serves, went something like this:

"Kristen, I really like you. So much about you. I would date you if that was what you wanted. I'd totally come down from Salt Lake, it's really not that far, and I've done it before. But I get the feeling that you're still not ready and that you're still somewhat violently opposed to the idea of a relationship. I'm going to be a lot more sad that things won't go that direction now than I was during the summer."

To which I responded with typical aplomb and finesse:
"Yeah...that's all pretty much true."

Silence from Spencer. I'm compelled to explain further.
"You know, the just not ready thing. I don't know. I just don't."

More silence. Kristen's speech is speeding up now.
"Well, and really, I just think that long distance is such a horrible idea, and I'd hate for you to spend that much money on gas and time and etc. to come see me, and I just think that when having a relationship is as much of a step as it is, long distance would just fair murder our chances."

Except that I'm fairly certain that that particularly colorful metaphor wasn't used.

So we've continued to talk and make out a bit and whatever since this time. For my birthday, he got me strings for my new guitar (the pawn shop strings sounded permanently flat) and some novelty picks, of which you received a photo attempt, and a remote-controlled car, randomly and awesomely enough. It's so weird and uncomfortable to be spoiled like this. Not horribly bad, necessarily, I just feel like it's too much and....gah. Dunno.

However. Let's discuss takeaway briefly. I don't even know what to think of all of that oddness.

Firstly: Family statements - "Kristen, you're letting some stupid, preconceived notions on what relationships should be like cloud your perception and you should really date Spencer." Kristen, however, feels that there's rather a crevasse of material between having preconceived notions regarding just how often a boy will bring you long-stemmed roses and having preconceived notions of the type Kristen was entertaining. Namely, that at the beginning, at the very least, you should be excited, at most, stupid, reckless, but never, ever described as "hesitant" with regard to the other person.

Secondly: Spencer did this freaky thing where he described me the way I often think of myself. That is, a somewhat dizzying amalgamation of types (nerdy, awkward, loud, funny, mildly attractive, singing, skanky, serious, surprisingly empathetic) and unexpected and even vaguely unpredictable for just the above reason.

Thirdly: Ha, Spencer also described me in much the way you once did - a lot better than first exposure would suggest. I believe that he told me that I "emerged from [my] obnoxious, brazen hussy cocoon of pretentiousness" and revealed myself to be surprisingly great.

Fourthly, and most importantly: I realized why I'm so okay with being single. Honestly...and this is undoubtedly about to sound all unfortunately twee, but there is in my life an enormous amount of sincere, uncomplicated love, from so many people I know. My family, my friends, all love me in an easy, cheerful, comfortable way, and I love them back the same. These are people who support and love me, for whom I would cheerfully provide anything from a poor, if listening, ear for advice and empathy to money, a car, hours, days, weeks of time, and beyond. In all those relationships, I know that the other person would do anything for me because I'd do anything for them. I will be there as long as they need me, and there is simplicity and happiness in the knowledge that we will be friends as long as they'd like (or family forever.)

But dating relationships are so annoyingly other.
Why?

Because with relationships, there is a balance of power. There is almost always a liker and a likee. The likee has all the blase and all the control. The liker has all the feelings and all the utter impotence unless games are played. Blech. Where is ease? Where is comfort? Where is happy? I frankly rather disdain being on either end. I hate that feeling of totally powerlessness when I play my last card - whether that happens to be an extra text that betrays how much I want a reply, a last-ditch attempt at showcasing my virtues, or, (rather unfortunately fact, this last) finding an excuse to prance around in my orange bikini. And because I so hate that deep feeling of futility, I take no pleasure whatsoever in holding all the cards, knowing that at some point I'm going to have to admit that the only reason I won was because he cared and I didn't.

I love my friends. I love my family. Easy. Uncomplicated. Dealing with boys (romantically) proves to be nothing but difficult and comparable to higher level string theory in complexity. Frankly, I'm content with the real, easy love. I have no patience for the fake, uncertain, difficult kind.

My singleness becomes less of a mystery with every passing hour :)

Sigh. Haha I should really put this email out of its misery. It's limping along, all woebegone and disconsolate and fair begging me for it, but I shall not do it the courtesy of facing it in another direction and talking about rabbits and sunsets just yet.

Last things:
Still haven't checked my grades. HA.

My birthday was amazing, went downtown to a condo of Carly's friends for high-end hot-tubbing.

Go back to school on Wednesday, have no school Tuesday/Thursday and am really excited that I'll have time to run, finally.

Oh, and chorus of my grumpy post-Grant song:

Fair, what's fair?
You changed your mind, but changed mine worse,
Of course, now that I care
Now I'm demoted, I'm not first
Many thanks for living proof
That love and justice both are blind
Without you I'd not know the truth
But with you, so am I.

Ha. Happy week, Happy New Year :)

End of Finals< End of Grant

(December 19, 2011)
Finals. I'm pretty sure I put forth a mediocre show on most of them. Although I did legitimately do a cartwheel in the engineering building after I finished my last final.
I was totally by myself and just did a cartwheel.

Goodbye, crappy semester of poo.

Did I mention that grades for said semester come out on my birthday? Why, universe? Why?

Oh, this email. Scattered and unfortunate. Ha I'm so very sorry, but I really can't turn it around at this point :).

I really don't have enough to say on the subject of your email, so I'm just going to tell you about what happened tonight.

See, I was rather annoyed at one master Grant because he was being less and less available. Even though I was 99% certain that was him telling me he didn't want me, I really wanted a no. A verbalized, real- life no. Just to cut things off cleanly. What follows is our conversation this evening, after having discussed music and such and whatever for a bit.
Kristen: "So, I have a question for you."
Grant: "Oh, yeah, what?"
Kristen (very closely paraphrased indeed): "I feel like, early on, it was relatively clear that you were at least mildly interested in me. However, in the last week, week and a half, it seems as though your apparent interest has dropped off precipitously, and I was just wondering if this is because your actual interest has similarly dropped off, or what, precisely is going on. I'm perplexed."

Grant [chuckles as if somewhat taken aback]: Oh, my. I... don't even know.

Kristen [Derisively, born of feelings of yeah- that's-exactly-the-response-I-wanted displeasure]: Ha really? You don't know?

Grant: Look, I'm sorry, but....I've actually never really been interested in you

Kristen: [Jaw shatters on the floor of his car]

Grant: Ha, sorry, I mean, I really don't think so....

[Continuing] I just like hanging out with you and stuff...I don't really think of you that way. You're really cool to talk to and all of that though.


Haha is it bad that all I can do is laugh about how ridiculously unexpected that is to me? I mean, it hurts....but, shiz. Life just wanted me to know how stupid I am for thinking I know when people like me.

Craziness.

(December 11, 2011)
Welcome to finals Sunday!!

I'm going to sum that up for you in one word.

Resigned.

(Be prepared for me to totally break that one word promise below.)

Also, finals: I'm terrified. That unfortunate version of terrified that paralyzes you from putting forth a solid effort because the very idea is frightening, even though you realize that said paralysis is guaranteed to fail you. Sigh. This semester is just exhausting. I'm so very excited to be done. And I've been so thoroughly beaten down and ruined by it that I can't bring myself to care if I do poorly (Read: get something in the B+ range for more than one class). I'll still study, of course, and try to do my very best, but heaven knows. I got a 64% on the multiple choice of the Organic Chemistry midterm I took on the last day of classes. Felt like: the most prepared I'd been for an o-chem test all semester. Was: the worst grade I've gotten on an o-chem test this semester by a hefty amount. Frick, that's when the universe just mocks me for thinking I know stuff.

Can I just tell you: I've learned one and only one thing this semester.

I'm stupid.

K, not really. Somewhat said that because I'd really appreciate you contradicting me. But it feels true. I'm so unintelligent.....Blahhhhhhhhhhhhfhkljlkjl;ssaaqwwwww.

Haha, but funny stories from today:

First of all, I'm music co-chair in this ward. Think I've told you this. Anyway. Last week, my other half comes up to tell me that the bishopric has just informed him that we are to put together a Christmas musical program. For today. One week. REally, guys? Ha, so he says, we need musical numbers. I say that I could possibly do something, if necessary. I'm never really asked again about this offer, but my co-chair does ask me to accompany him. I figure that this will suffice for me sharing my talents and don't bother to really look into finding music options for myself.
Welcome to today, ten minutes into sacrament meeting.
Kristen looks at the program:
Special Musical Numbers -
Random guy
Kristen Nicholes
Ward Co-chair
Ha ha Worst surprise ever.

So, I run down to co-chair, and tell him that I'm finding someone to conduct the sacrament hymn and we're asking someone else to play it so that he and I can escape these respective duties in order to practice an impromptu Christmas hymn that he's going to play while I sing.

Two run-throughs of "Oh Come, All Ye Faithful" later, I'm standing in front of my entire congregation shaking like an umbrella in a hurricane and singing a song that I did not know I would be singing ten minutes prior.

It was not particularly good. But could have been worse. And Grant told me I did a good job, so...life will go on.

Also, I just returned from playing the Ty song (lyrics I sent to you, if you'd forgotten) to Ty himself. Hahahahahahaha. HILARIOUS. He was actually surprisingly non-awkward about it. To be fair, I pretended to forget the lyrics for the part that originally said "sack up and take me out" but otherwise I genuinely sang the whole thing. And nobody died. Bahaha.