a period of trial

as you may (not) have noticed, i've taken a small hiatus from my blog.  there was a rhyme and reason behind this respite.  i went through a pretty tough trial recently, and i needed some time and breathing room before i could talk about it.  but, now i think i'm finally ready to share.

on august 12, 2013, exactly three months ago, i was faced with a challenge that left me with two choices.  i could either bury my head and pretend like this trial hadn't come knocking, or take heart and courage and face the ordeal with all my might and main.  though it was hard, and more than a little bit scary, i chose the latter.  so, for the last 92 days, i have (a) worn a new and different outfit every day, and (b) not purchased a single article of clothing.

now, i am the first to admit that my closet looks a bit like this:

let me assure you, i am properly embarrassed by the mass of my crap.  but i obviously have to add to it.  i neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed to buy more clothes because not all of my clothes are created equal.  some are old.  some smell.  some are too small but i hold onto them because i will certainly be back to that size soon.  so, there are just certain items that i cannot wear...or so i thought until one aaron k. dared me to wear a new outfit compiled from my existing clothes for the next 90 days.

i accepted the thrown gauntlet without so much as a whiff of hesitation.  if there's one thing i love in this life, it's a good dare.  aaron must have detected my eagerness because, like lightening, he sweetened the deal.  "i dare you to wear a new outfit for every one of those 90 days AND not to buy any new clothes either."

say what?

i'd be lying if i said my stomach didn't drop and my palms didn't sweat.  retail therapy is a real thing, sweetheart.  and what about when i found things that i NEEDED and would NEVER BE ABLE TO BUY AGAIN?  then again, how could i decline the dare and admit defeat?  i have never backed down from a challenge before.  i'm just not that kind of girl.

i found myself at a crossroads.  my pride and my need to shop diverged in a yellow road, and i--i chose the one most traveled by.  i followed my pride.  and that has made all the difference.

"done." i replied.

the rest is history.  though it took creativity, self-restraint, and late night planning sessions, i met and exceeded the challenge and have been clean for three months (or ninety two days since august and october have 31 each).

thanks, babe, for issuing the dare.  thanks, me, for killing it.

no doi.

i just finished watching the men tell all including the tearful preview for next week's two-part finale.  please watch this video starting at 1:55.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9AQ5tWjn6l0

there are all sorts of conspiracy theories flying around about what devastation is awaiting us around the corner.  but.  i know what it is.  des finally realized she let juan pablo go.

i never understood what got into desiree every time she didn't had juan pablo every rose on every tray.  and, apparently, she didn't either.  while her stupidity has taken three weeks to catch up with her, catch up with her it has.  with a vengeance.  

seriously though, des.

WHAT

WERE

YOU

THINKING?

blushing

blushing can be a beautiful thing.  it can lend a soft, pink hue to one's cheeks, lighting one's visage, and adding a timid and fetching femininity to one's vulnerability rather like this, or this, or this:

or, blushing can be more brazen, more brash, more red. 

i've been blushing a lot lately.  i've often thought (and said) that i go through phases of blushing and not-blushing, phases where my feelings get the better of my cheeks and me, and phases where we master them.  and then yesterday came, and my best friend told me that i have always been a blusher and have been in denial about it for years.  deep, deep down, i knew that she was right.  so, i think it's time to face the music: i blush.  i blush deeply, and i blush often.  i wear my vulnerability on my facial skin.  and that's ok.  it is time to embrace the blushing.  in order to embrace the blushing, i must understand the blushing.

when i blush, i feel scorched, burned, branded, ablaze.  my emotions have seared their way across my very face, and my face does not like it.  no, not one bit.  my face and i are private creatures.  we would rather not let the world know what we are feeling.  it's embarrassing when our embarrassment is tattooed upon us.

but, blushing is not without its virtues.  blushing is honest, open, candid, and frank.  it is bold, daring, audacious, and cheeky.  it does not hide itself.  instead, it displays itself in all of its rosy glory.  i can stand to be more like that.  and so, i will blush loud and i will blush proud.

blush on.

let's get real...

about diet coke.  i LOVE the stuff.

i usually drink this much of it:

but i would totally drink this much of it if 7-eleven would but give me the cup.

it is cool, it is sweet, it is calorie free.  you can drink it plain, or you can dress it up.  i, generally, dress it up a bit.  i throw in a lime.  i put in a splash of sprite.  i go crazy and add a lime AND some sprite.  or, when i'm feeling especially bold, i splurge for a slutty diet coke.  (slutty diet coke: diet coke mixed with any number of slurpee flavors.  especially delicious when paired with cherry, pina-colada, or lime.)  

diet coke has taken me through my ups and my downs.   it is every bit as friendly and comforting during bad days, late nights, and long classes as it is at lake powell.

photo cred: melinda- "diet coke...cures what ailes ya."

we have had a long and fulfilling relationship, diet coke and i.  but, if i am being honest with myself, i think it has gone too far.  i think i have loved diet coke too much, i have become co-dependant, and i have ignored and excluded all other beverages from my life.  including water.  sometimes, the only water i drink in a day is the water i use to rinse my mouth after brushing my teeth.  which is alarming.  and sad.  and unhealthy.  

so, i am taking a two-week break from diet coke.  i'm leaving it cold-turkey...for fourteen days.  i'm scared.  i'm jittery.  i'm a little lost.  but, i think it's necessary.  and, when this two week probation period is over, hopefully i will be able to go back to my dear cola friend, in healthy doses.

what's happening to me?

you guys. lately, i've been listening to...country music.

i'm speechless.  and a little confused.

mainly, i blame nashville.  its music is just sooooooo good.  for example:

now.  these songs are not traditional country.  they're more bluegrass or folk-y.  they say nothing about trucks or dogs or hunting or beer.  and there is nary a honky-tonk guitar riff to be heard.  they are just beautiful, beautiful love songs sung by beautiful, beautiful people.  with a country twist.  in nashville.  seems innocent, innocuous enough.  and so i downloaded them, put them on a playlist, and played them into oblivion.

then, i heard about a little tv show called friday night lights, and subsequently fell in love with tim riggins in all of is cowboy-boot-wearing, country-loving, texas-forever glory.  behold.

can you blame me?  good.  me neither.  his little drawl and ability to ping-pong between drunken looser and resident wiseman drew me in and stuck me fast.  he made me feel safe and secure in the country.  he made me want to slap on my wranglers, jump into the cab of his truck, and yell, "let's head to the football game, y'all!"

looking back, i think that this was the point where i lost control.

after i found tim, i downloaded this song:

don't let taylor swift's ability to jump from one genre to another fool you.  she's nothing but a country queen in this little ditty, a country queen partnered with two country kings.

then, i downloaded this song:

ladies and gentlemen, miranda lambert is a country music artist.  nothing more, nothing less.  in the last week, i downloaded a straight-up-no-chaser country song.

and, the final straw.  when i heard this on the radio this morning, i thought, "this is awesome."

yes, nelly does blow this track up.  but.  i thought the song was downloadable before i knew nelly was on it.  that means i listened to two verses of twang before there was anything even rap-ish whatsoever about it.  when a song's lyrics are, "in this brand new chevy with a lift kit/ would look a hell of a lot better with you up in it," that song is all country, all the time.

i am befuddled.  i am bemused.  i need to take a time out with this remix of remix to ignition and think about what i have done.

(thanks g for the much needed breath of sanity.)

one car poorer

this one time in march, i was driving on foothill drive at approximately 9:20 am.  due the herds of cars stampeding to research park or the university of utah, traffic is treacherous at that place, at that hour.  and when traffic stops, it stops quickly.  and that morning, stop quickly it did.  it happened like this:

a light turned red.
people screeched to halt.
i was one of those people.
i thought to myself, "self, that was a quick stop.  i hope whoever is behind me stops."
i checked my rearview.
"self, that car is not going to stop."
boom.
i got smooshed into the car in front of me.
i then got pushed into the next lane of traffic.
the car i hit hit the car in front of her.
he hit the car in front of him.
the total number of cars affected was 5.
the total number of damage to my car was totalled.

so, i am down one car.

i took the passing of my elantra harder than i thought i would...though i never thought about losing it before i lost it.  i didn't come by my car of my own volition.  it was my dad's idea.  he gave it to me for my undergraduate graduation combined with the "gift" of a credit history (aka- i had to pay a lot of it off).  i wasn't super excited about the payments that rolled around religiously each month.  but, the car grew on me.  i loved the way it handled in the snow.  i loved that it was a stick shift.  i loved that it had a hatch-back.  i love that i kind of felt like i was driving a silver bullet.  and now, all of that is gone.

when i went to pay my last respects and gather my belongings from its remains, i was more emotional than i expected.  in that moment, i decided that i should have named it Hi Ho, Silver (think of how punny that would have been), and i felt really bad that i never did.  i remembered how often i complained about paying for it.  i remembered how many cool trips it took me on.  i remembered how easy it was to park.  and i was sad.  i've never felt more like a boy in my life.

i guess the upside is that i have a huge sunglasses collection.

for the time being, until i find my new car, i'm driving around this sweet lil' thang:

it belongs to my grandparents, and, no lie, drives like a dream.  but, the hands-down-best part of this champion of a 1995 baby blue ford taurus is how my grandpa attached the registration stickers...

the original timeline.  way to go, grandpa.

yes.

the world cup is coming to utah.

the qualifying match against honduras will be held here on june 18.  i think this calls for a little celebratory coldplay.

(hats off to G for supplying basically this entire post.)

amen

couldn't say it any better.  feels like i've been training all my life.

but, in the event that there are no positions available, i would settle for writing this blog:

http://www.glamour.com/entertainment/blogs/obsessed/2013/01/that-time-bradley-cooper-took.html

weighing in

i have never been a bachelor fan.  but somehow, this year, i got sucked in.  let's be honest, though.  it was only a matter of time.  i drink obscene amounts of diet coke.  i love us weekly.  i've read all four twilight books.  really, considering my resume, it's amazing i've held out this long.

so, the time has come, and i have fallen...for catherine giudici.

she's cool.  cooler than sean.  she can fit into a tire.  she has a normal voice (not one that's super high, sugary sweet, and hisses out S's like a ssssssnake).  and she doesn't cry all the time, like someone i know...

plus, she does humorous stuff.















and she says humorous things.

she makes the entire show seem somewhat normal and restores my faith in the kind of womankind who apply for and go onto reality tv shows in order to find true love and get married.

also, i'm pretty sure she could kill tierra, my new arch-nemisis.

i would be lying if i didn't say that i generally view "the bachelor" as a battle royal between me (catherine) and dramatic, bratty, temper-tantrum-throwing, volatile, pushy, aggressive, pouty manhandlers (represented by tierra).  so far, catherine and i have won.

come on, sean.  we look great in a wedding dress.

somehow, i feel like my whole life's happiness is contingent on who sean picks as his wife...

o. m. g.

last night my indian roommate told me that my voice sounds like this:

and i'm like, "THANK YOU!"

she said i'd left a song (the above song) on in my room when i'd gone downstairs and she thought it was me until she looked in my room and didn't see anyone except a lone computer belting out this little number.  "you're voices just sound the same!" she explained.

she has front row tickets to my daily performances, as her room is right next to the bathroom.  i have often wondered whether she dreaded my shower time.  who knew all along she thought i sounded like rihanna?  i'm not sure whether or not she thinks that's a good thing...but i think it's awesome, for like a billion reasons including that:

1) rihanna's not white, which has always been a goal of mine.
2) she's got a phenomenal voice, and
3) fabulous clothes, not to mention her

4) hair, face, and bod.
5) she can BUST A MOVE.

6) she has a hot boyfriend, and

7) an awesome accent, and
8) a holiday dedicated to her.  (it's on february 22, so, let's go to barbados and celebrate!)

however, in compiling this list of pros for being rihanna-esque, i realized that many of her pros are also serious cons because:

1) sometimes her clothes are atrocious.

2) as are her hair and accessories (though her face and bod are always on point. ok, well maybe not her face).

3) her boyfriend punches her in the face, and
4) he currently looks like this, complete with the worst tattoo ever tattooed:

5) she probably cries herself to sleep at night remembering that chris brown used to be like this:

and this:

and from the fresh wounds he has inflicted upon her.

so, all in all, i don't wish that i was rihanna, since she's mostly crazy (with a frosting layer of cool).  but i do not mind being told that i sound like her.  and i want it on the record that chris brown will always be an OC band geek in my mind.

in other news, the road to lake powell fell apart.  WHAT. THE. HECK.

thing one and thing two

1) i want this dress to be my wedding dress.

and i want to keep it pink because it is beautiful like a rose petal and who doesn't want to look like a rose petal on their wedding?  no one i care to know, unless you're a boy, in which case i can think of quite a few who don't want to look anything like a rose petal ever.  wedding dresses are generally supposed to be white, though.  so, that is problematic.  as is the fact that it is expensive.  and that i'm not engaged.  i guess what i'm trying to say is that i want to both thank and curse jayne for posting this picture on my wall.  

2) you should not blow your nose like a fog horn in the middle of class.  you just should not.  it is terrible and disgusting.  and don't add insult to injury by blowing that crap into a rough brown paper towel procured from the bathroom.  it is not absorbent.  it is one step up from expelling your nose contents into a piece of lined paper.  all of those boogers will wind up in your hand and not in the towel which leaves my ears ringing from your nasal-honk and stomach churning at the mess now being wiped on your pant.  i'm just saying.

winter schminter

each winter i feel increasingly more like this tiger:

not so much about living in a small place with double-glazing, or about feeling like a kind of piece of object in a box, or about being a car-NI-vore eating fresh meat instead of potatoes.

but for sure about living in a hot country that i have a good weather, a space with blue skies that i can see the sun every day, alright.  that i have nice weather, that i can just have nice water that i can dive to swim in, it means a tropical country.  it's easy.  any part of the world, but hot.  name it.  and i'll go.

preach, brother.

enough of this 12 degree weather already.

(and thank you, gretch.  you know how i love this clip.)