Huh.

I really like this secret from this week. Yay PostSecret.

Poem of the Month

As if this is something I actually do. But I was introduced to this poem in my Teaching Reading class and it hit a little too close to home for me not to share it. Apparently Richard Brautigan and I are more alike than either of us would like to admit. Enjoy!

It's Raining in Love

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
a lot.

It makes me nervous.
I don't say the right things
or perhaps I start
to examine,
evaluate,
compute
what I am saying.

If I say, "Do you think it's going to rain?"
and she says, "I don't know,"
I start thinking: Does she really like me?

In other words
I get a little creepy.

A friend of mine once said,
"It's twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them."

I think he's right and besides,
it's raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That's all taken care of.

BUT

if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
and I say, "It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it's you, baby, this time
instead of me.

-- Richard Brautigan

Aha!

Today I had a very long and very enlightening conversation with my oldest brother, Treb. (Some of you may know him as trub - I believe that's how he posts on my blog. There's a story about that which I'm not going to write here.)
Apparently, all of my relationship ineptitude is genetic (not that my parents are genetically inept... maybe it was recessive). Despite the fact that my brother and I are 14 years apart in age, we are currently living parallel lives (at least in our heads). We both over think everything to the point of frenzy, are crap at playing the game, and then plunge ourself into despair over nothings. (And make playlists. Don't forget that.)
We decided that we are anachronisms. We have longer attention spans than most of the people we know, and consequently are interested longer and also read books, which means that deep down we would be okay with the romance of a Cyrano-esque wooing or with just bearing our souls. We're searching for a soul to soul connection - the kind that seems to be more difficult to find than some would have you believe.
So today I drove to Payson (Why Payson? Why not?) and tried out my new playlist - it fit the bill perfectly. I feel much more myself today than I have in a week, and since talking to my brother I've realized that last week was me too - I may as well get used to it, because it's in my genes.
I've also decided I need to see Annie Hall for real. I need some perspective on my life. :)
I also love this picture. I first found it on Katherine's blog - it's amazing. The end.

Bah.

Some weeks are very good weeks. I'm not sure this was one of them.
First. I am so sick of fighting with myself to get anything done. After the first two days of this week I had absolutely no motivation to get anything done...and didn't. For some reason I just can't sit down and accomplish anything (even now, which is why I'm blogging.)I hate it, but . . . bah.
Second. I keep losing minutes. I keep doing things and then having no recollection of doing them. This morning I washed my hair twice because I honestly couldn't remember washing it the first time. How do you do something without even noticing that you did it?
Third. There are times when I get really sick of being single, and when anything comes close to something happening I go crazy. I hate being a stupid girl. I hate my own insecurities, my complexes that tell me that I am and always will be the awesome "friend," that I am not really dating material because they probably can't imagine kissing me, etc. And the thing is I definitely send myself over the deep end really quickly - it happens in a matter of a day or two - one minute I'm confident, the next I'm an idiot. I am not a stupid girl - why do I act like it?
I am really annoyed with myself right now. And I don't know why I'm telling you all this, but you love me, so I feel okay about it.
Bleah and double bleah.

Not sure how I feel about this . . .

Although it does sound rather familiar. Does being Pam mean that someday I'll meet my Jim?

Which Office Character Are You?
	You are Pam. You are sweet and likable, but your shyness makes it hard for you to express yourself sometimes. Regardless, you are always there for your friends and will usually come out of your shell to help anyone.
Find Your Character @ BrainFall.com

Did you wear a dress crafted from meat packing paper, as we discussed?

So here I am in the glorious land of Provo, with my closet organized and my roommates in place. Belmont is a very different place than the Glenwood, partially because it is very, very small. (Note the closet size in this picture - I am pretty sure I need to scrap half of my clothes, because this is ridiculous. The drawers are nice and big, though.) I must say I'm impressed with the person who designed the place - there is storage GALORE even though we don't always have room to turn around. The desks are beautiful, and there are all kinds of cupboards and closets and drawers everywhere I look. Now that everything has a place, I feel much better about things.
It was comforting yesterday that even though I was moving to a place where I'll only know my roommates, I have a strong base of friends right from the get-go. Before I left for Provo on Saturday morning, I got a text from Geoff telling me that he would be helping me unload and demanding that I tell him when I was coming. He was already here helping Jennie when I got here. On my way down I got another text from Todd saying that he would also come over if I needed help, but by the time I remembered to answer we were almost done and he was already here to bring all-sports passes. Marci was waiting at the door with her muscle, and Krissie and Jennie were there with hugs - all in all a good sign for the year.
We had to stop unpacking to get some food and go to the Arizona game. It was weird that my official goodbye to my parents for the year was in the Glenwood parking lot (they decided to continue parking there for games - it's just too good - and my friends were walking over from there). I never really got a chance to do the official cry fest thing because it didn't hit until then, and the parking lot didn't seem like the right place to cry. It's weird that this will be the last time that my parents will move me down to school, and I don't even know where I'll be going after graduation, but it won't be home unless I know when I'll be moving somewhere else. That sounds harsh, but it's too easy to live at home and eat my mommy's food. Once I graduate I feel like I need to find my own place of some sort. Weird. Anyway, the parentals were awesome and helpful and then proceeded to spy on me during the game. :)
I love our group for the games. It's our old group from ye olde 129th ward, and even though we're all spread out now I'm glad we can come together for football. I was happy to be greeted by a chorus of "Megan!" from people I haven't seen for months. It helped that the game was a good solid win, but I used the 2nd and 3rd quarters to catch up.
I love my new roommates (and the old ones.) After the game and a visit to Todd and Jason's new apartment (and a viewing of the new Brian Regan DVD - amazing) we had some serious bonding in Jennie and Marci's room. Krissie and Janie both have amazing taste in books and movies (read: very similar to my taste in books and movies) and I think we're going to be heavy in the good times department.
Our church doesn't start until 2:00, so we had WAY too much time on our hands this morning. I think it will be better next week - I'll know how to prepare and now waste my entire morning (plus I'll be able to eat.) I spent the morning reading in bed and then going from closet to closet trying to find something fun to wear. Krissie kept saying she was bored, so I asked if she wanted to do my hair (hers is always cute) and the result is what you see above.
Our church building (yes, church building, not building on campus!) is very nice, but seems to be engineered to let you show off. We had to walk up and down a lot of stairs while members of the opposite sex watched (this is not paranoia, I promise) and we had to walk into a Sunday school class with the entire class facing us. I never want to be late for that class. (The title of this post was my brother Ty's response to my lament that the first week in a new singles' ward makes one feel very on display. Amazing.) We got a good old-fashioned chastity talk out of 1st Corinthians (always a great way to start the year) but the rest of the meetings were nice, and our ward seemed mostly less awkward than is average for a BYU ward.
My favorite part of our new place is the balcony/outdoor entrance to our apartment. After church we made dinner (I was enlisted to sautée the zucchini and squash, and although I didn't eat any, I was told it was perfection in green and gold) and took it out onto the balcony to watch a rain storm under the cover of the overhang.
Ward prayer was more awkward than I thought it should be - I miss knowing everyone - but I think it will all get better.
Here's a picture of the other half of my now organized room. It's still kind of bare - I plan to use part of Labor Day to decorate - but it's pretty and clean and all of my drawers are lined with nice green and blue shelf paper. I'm sorry that I'm I'm not feeling terribly entertaining today - I'm sure that the hilarity will ensue shortly. Like the first time I forget that I have to carry a key now and get locked out. Curses.

Since my phone still ain't ringing, I assume it still ain't you.

Here is the beginning of a lonely hearts mix. The final attempt will hopefully comprise my favorite songs about every possible means of losing love and dealing with the loss. I'm sure I'll be adding to it for awhile.
"Bruised" - The Bens
"Sore Thumb" - The Format
"Hate (I Really Don't Like You)" - Plain White T's
"Cheers, Darlin'" - Damien Rice
"End of May" - The Actual Tigers
"New American Classic" - Taking Back Sunday
"Grace is Gone" - Dave Matthews Band
"Nothing Better" - The Postal Service
"Heaven Forbid" - The Fray
"Put it Behind You" - Keane
"Pink Triangle" - Weezer :)
"From My Own True Love (Lost At Sea)" - The Decemberists
"Breaking My Heart" - Aqualung
"Another Lonely Day" - Ben Harper
"New Slang" - The Shins
"Cocoon" - Jack Johnson
"Split Screen Sadness" - John Mayer
"We're Just Friends" - Wilco
"Flushed from the Bathroom of Your Heart" - Johnny Cash
"Woke Up New" - The Mountain Goats
"Sad Songs and Waltzes" - Cake
"Cage" - Travis
"Hear You Me" - Jimmy Eat World
"Last Goodbye" - Jeff Buckley
"Don't Dream It's Over" - Crowded House
"Now It's Done" - Straylight Run
"Hannah Hold On" - The Get Up Kids
"Trying to Pull Myself Away" - Glen Hansard


Additionally, if you've been reading my comments you know my brother Trub has some serious opinions on Lonely Hearts songs, being the original lonely heart himself. So without further ado, I submit the Trub preliminary list. I figure that's okay, because mine was VERY preliminary; Trub's was categorized when I got it, but he told me to take them out because it was going to get too confusing. I just thought you should know how seriously he took this project.
"Black Coffee in Bed" - Squeeze
“Alone” – Blues Traveler
*“I Didn’t Understand” – Elliot Smith
“Lonely Holiday” – Old 97s
“Tired of Being Alone” – Al Green
“One” – Three Dog Night (Aimee Mann does a nice cover on the Magnolia soundtrack)
“I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” – Hank Williams (a hundred covers, I’m rather fond of both Cowboy Junkies’ and Cassandra Wilson’s)
“Unlovable” – The Smiths
“Lush Life” – Billy Strayhorn (maybe the saddest, loneliest song ever)
“Wander This World” – Johnny Lang
“I Do” – Jude
“What a Shame About Me” – Steely Dan
“So Lonely” – The Police
“Another Saturday Night” – Cat Stevens
“Thinking About You” - Radiohead
*“Song for the Dumped” – Ben Folds
“Don’t Think Twice, It’s Alright” – Bob Dylan
“I Hope You’re Happy Now” – Elvis Costello
“Idiot Wind” – Bob Dylan
“Black” – Pearl Jam
“History Never Repeats” – Split Enz (Eddie Vedder covers this one)
“Reason Why” – Rachael Yamagata (maybe the best breakup song of modern times, whatever else you may think of her)
“Smoke” – Ben Folds
“Good Year for the Roses” – Elvis Costello
“Lose You” – Pete Yorn
“Love in Vain” – Robert Johnson
“The Sun Also Sets” – Ryan Adams
“I’ll Sail This Ship Alone” – The Beautiful South (very cheesy, but hey)
“Two Hearts” – The Jayhawks”
“I Walk Away” – Crowded House
“That’s What I Call Love” – Crowded House
“I Will Survive” – Gloria Gaynor (*Cake cover is great)
“No Woman No Cry” – Bob Marley
*Trub warned me that a couple of these songs had some non-PG language, so the starred songs are his warning to use discretion.

Happy moping!

'Til There Was You . . .

This looks like it should be a followup of my post about romance addiction, but if some of you remember my fears about graduation next year and still being single, I thought this was an interesting complement.

"Most women do with themselves nothing at all; they wait in attitudes more or less gracefully passive, for a man to come their way and furnish them with a destiny." - Henry James, Portrait of a Lady

That, friends, is the reason I'm thinking about my post graduation plans. I am not waiting around for someone else to furnish me with a destiny. If something happens to change my current circumstance I'll rethink my plans, but until then I am taking control of my own destiny, so to speak.

Wearing a mask or refusing one?

Are we surprised? Naturally I'm not actually accomplishing anything on the first reading day. (I started on my editing assignment, but I got stuck and I'm taking a break.)
I'm wondering why I can't take myself seriously, or why I take myself too seriously. I'm not sure which it is. I was practicing for my triple swing test the other night, and my friend was trying to help me with styling - throw out the arm here, act flirty here, etc. During the change hands behind the back he was trying to get me to play with my hair, and friends, I couldn't do it.
I don't know why it's so impossible to act flirty in a dance, but I think it has something to do with my inability to flirt in real life . . . at least in any way that actually seems real. I feel ridiculous and like a poser and I just can't do it. I have no problem skedaddling and looking like an idiot, but I can't even pretend to act sexy. Why is that? Am I really that inhibited when it comes to this sort of thing?
And if that's the case, why did I sign up for another dance class?
I'm not sure if this post actually makes sense, nor am I sure why I'm posting it. But I think I am making myself look silly by trying not to look silly - like when they make you sing in church when you're in Young Women and you giggle so no one will actually think you take yourself seriously. Hmm.
I think this is why I love the polka.

Edward, Time Capsules, and From-Behind Hugging

In honor of the amazing book, Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging, I'm considering writing my own book about my love life, which will also be completely blown out of proportion (since that's what I'm doing anyway). The title of this post is the title that Carrie suggested for my narrative, with one change, inspired by my brother. ("Meg, you can totally use this. You make a time capsule. You write about how you feel about this kid, and then when you break up with this other one you tell the first one that it was him you liked all along. When he doesn't believe you, you take him out and dig up the time capsule, and as you open it and the steam rises . . ." Only Ty would think of this as an option for fixing my love life.)What say ye?
I've decided that I'm making my life WAY more dramatic than it needs to be, which is probably because I REALLY need to get out of the Glenwood. There comes a point where having history with half of the boys in the ward (whether they know it or not) is ridiculous and annoying rather than funny. Ugh.
So here will be what's on the back of my book:
Edward: A fictional vampire, but boy do I ever wish he were real. If only the problem was just that the guy has a teensy-weensy desire to suck my blood. . .
Time Capsules: Those dumb things you bury in the back yard with a newspaper clipping and a list of what you ate for lunch. Also my brother's idea for how I can get the man of my dreams to declare his love. Long story.
From-Behind Hugging: A really cute way of showing affection that not only scares me to death, but also leaves me without a clue how to respond. What do I say . . . I missed you too?
Okay, it needs some work, and I'm not British. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon . . .
As you can probably tell, I don't have much to say at the moment . . . I just want to put off my homework. And the picture has nothing to do with anything . . . unless you want to think about how I have too much to chew right now. Ha.

Blind Date Billy . . . Again

(Picture taken by Dain Hubley - hope you don't mind, Dain. It was just too perfect.)
Okay, I lied about not having anything to talk about. This weekend I'm going on a blind date, and I've been wondering about my sanity, because honestly, my luck with blind dates has been . . . special. Let's take a survey, shall we?
First, there was the kid my DAD set me up with because we both got the same scholarship. He took me to see Napoleon Dynamite (a movie I already knew I detested) and then to a park to play croquet in the dark and to swing dance. He flipped me upside down, which was . . . thrilling, but oddly enough, not the basis for an enduring relationship.
The blind date I'm going on this weekend is the third setup from my brother, Spence. The first one was a nice enough kid - we doubled with my roommate and his friend - and he was actually creative. We went to a place called Color Me Mine and painted some pottery. His friend was a little overconfident (obnoxiously so) and they kept speaking in Hmong (word to the wise, boys. This is not charming or impressive. You may bring up mission stories if they are ABSOLUTELY applicable, but don't work it into the conversation because you want to let it be known you went on a mission, and DON'T start talking in your language in front of your date unless you have to in order to communicate with the waiter (like, maybe you're on a date in Mexico). It's rude. Rant concluded.) but other than that it was okay. I saw him one more time . . . when he asked me to edit his poly sci paper and practically write his works cited page for him. Awesome.
The second setup was over before it even happened. My brother's brother-in-law had a friend, and when we couldn't get the date to work out, we arranged a meeting at the football game. He said after that we could "decide whether or not we want to go out."
Um . . . holy awkward situation, Batman.
So we met up so he could see if I was good enough to waste a few bucks on, and of course it was weird and awkward (probably more so for him, because I was there with all of my friends) and when he left at halftime to get food my friend Spencer Houtz threatened to put his arm around me when the kid got back. When he did get back, my friend Travis asked him who he was (Travis missed the first half) and the kid hmmed and haaed so much that I thought I should help him out, so I said, "Oh, just tell him! It's funny!"
He told him. In the most awkward way imaginable.
"Well, I've been home from my mission for about 5 years now, and my friends have decided it's about time for me to get married."
Hello? I'm standing right here . . .
We never actually went out.
I did have one good blind date experience - we went out 3 times and then decided we knew everything we needed to and weren't interested anymore. But it was a nice self-esteem boost when he asked for my number after the first date.
And now here I am preparing to subject myself to it again, but I've decided to glory in the awkwardness. What difference does it make if we like each other? I'm beginning to think that a lot of this business of love is luck anyway, which means that until you run into a person you click with you may as well have a little fun laughing at all of the ones that don't work at all. So here's to finding true love in a world in which I really wonder how anyone EVER gets together. Wish me luck.

The X Factor

I realize that this is my third post today, but the novelty hasn't worn off yet, and it's Saturday.
A few months ago my roommates and I conducted a little survey. We decided to try to find out why some girls are date magnets and others are perpetually "good friends." Our survey was, unfortunately, inconclusive. Apparently the only difference between the girl you ask out and the girl you ask for advice is a nebulous "x factor," and apparently some girls have got it and some girls don't. It isn't always a matter of looks or common interests or personality (maybe it's smell, eh, Lili?) but something makes some girls the stuff that dreams are made of while my beautiful roommates and I are the BFFs (that is, until the boys get married, at which point we become invisible.)
The thing is, we have a LOT of guy friends. Last winter we had to hide in our rooms for awhile because we got tired of the constant flow of men in our living room. Most of us had a few guys after us during most of the semester (that semester. The current state of events doesn't seem to be quite so favorable . . . but I'll get to that), or at least so I've been told. Why, then, do so many of us remain so firmly single (and largely dateless)? As far as I'm concerned, my roommates are beautiful and hilarious (we are the hottest thing since soup, and see our quote wall for evidence of our witty tongues). Are we, as some seemed to think, so amazing that we are intimidating? Doubtful, unless every boy we know is a pansy. Are we unappreciated because we are ever-present and our glory has been dimmed? (Sorry for that bit of sarcasm.) Could it be that someone is unaware of just how single we are? Do they think that because we are so single we are incapable of having relationships? (How do we know if no one will try us?) I'd attibute it to our feminist tendencies, but that shouldn't hurt anyone but Miri and me, and Miri has a boyfriend now.
This may go down as one of the great mysteries of BYU, so if you want to be a detective, now is your chance.