While talking over lunch with my new BFF Brittney this past weekend (seriously guys, in the most non-creepy way I can think of stating this: it is so much fun to meet online friends in real life! I'll definitely have to explain more on that meeting later...) we started discussing the popularity and amount of "Mormon Mother/Women bloggers" and I have to ask all of you the same question -- have you ever noticed some sort of trend in that area too?

Being LDS, I can often relate to their lifestyle and am familiar with a lot of their religious beliefs and certain aspects of life portrayed through their blogs (family oriented, focus on motherhood, etc) but it was interesting to see it from another point of view:

Why I Can't Stop Reading Mormon Housewife Blogs

If you have five extra minutes, I'd recommend the link above (it's actually kind of really interesting)

What do you think?

looks like spring.

i love her dress. her hat. her lipstick. her flowers.
everything, everything, everything about this look is flawless and beautiful.

dear springtime,
please come 3 months early?

via

we call it true love.

I kind of loved this poem. A lot.

And I apologize for all the poetry lately, but I can't help but share what I love. And I know in the past it's usually been my confessions about Zac Efron, but over the last few weeks it switched over to poetry. So please share this particular love with me (because the real life ones I'm never willing to share) and read on:

It is true love because
I put on eyeliner and a concerto and make pungent observations about the great issues of the day
Even when there's no one here but him,
And because
I do not resent watching the Green Bay Packer
Even though I am philosophically opposed to football,
And because
When he is late for dinner and I know he must be either having an affair or lying dead in the middle of the street,
I always hope he's dead.*

It's true love because
If he said quit drinking martinis but I kept drinking them and the next morning I couldn't get out of bed,
He wouldn't tell me he told me,
And because
He is willing to wear unironed undershorts
Out of respect for the fact that I am philosophically opposed to ironing,
And because
If his mother was drowning and I was drowning and he had to choose one of us to save,
He says he'd save me.

It's true love because
When he went to San Francisco on business while I had to stay home with the painters and the exterminator and the baby who was getting the chicken pox,
He understood why I hated him,
And because
When I said that playing the stock market was juvenile and irresponsible and then the stock I wouldn't let him buy went up twenty-six points,
I understood why he hated me,
And because
Despite cigarette cough, tooth decay, acid indigestion, dandruff, and other features of married life that tend to dampen the fires of passion,
We still feel something
We can call
True love.**



*haha. my favorite part. p-squared theory comes to mind here (remind me to inform you about the p-squared theory later)

**what do you think true love is really like?

ambiguity.

One by one the petals drop
There's nothing that can make them stop.
You cannot beg a rose to stay.
Why does it have to be that way?

The butterflies I used to chase
Have gone off to some other place.
I don't know where. I only know
I wish they didn't have to go.

And all the shiny afternoons
So full of birds and big balloons
And ice cream melting in the sun
Are done.I do not want them done.
-Judith Viorst
I consider myself having some sort of a mix between a Peter Pan Complex and a Martha Stewart Syndrome (I kind of invented that last one).
I sometimes hate the idea of change, or at least the change that I wasn't planning on.
And sometimes I decide (a little too early on) how my life should and shouldn't turn out, and that basically boils down to me being tremendously idealistic.

We should be friends forever because that's what it's like in the movies.
I need to marry him (yes him!) because we fell in love when I was only 17.
I have to graduate with this degree, because, after all, my blonde hair makes me look the part.

And fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the day, I'm realizing more and more and more that life does not go according to plan --
And it's not as if I was ever naive enough to think that it did necessarily, but in my mind there was one road map to my life, and the detours and back roads were only a little part of the picture. Everything else would still inevitably fall into place of course, just like I had planned.
But I've been proven wrong.

Admittedly, it was a little hard for me to swallow at first, but for whatever reason over the last little while I've not only come to terms with it, but have sort of grown fond of the idea that I really have no idea where I'm going to end up.

So the Martha Stewart Syndrome is kind of fading, my desire to never grow old is being replaced by some of my other hopes and dreams --
But one thing that isn't changing (and maybe I kind of hope it never does)
is the fact that I remain tremendously idealistic.
Tomorrow always looks better that way.

how i feel today.

My skin is kind of sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white.
My eyes are grayish blueish green,
But I'm told they look orange in the night.
My hair is reddish blondish brown,
But it's silver when it's wet.
And all the colors I am inside
Have not been invented yet.
-Shel Silverstein


Being able to pick up a few more English classes for my minor this semester, I've rediscovered my love for poetry. Ode: Intimations of Immortality by Wordsworth has been my most recent favorite, but today my professor recited the poem above, and I was reminded of my love for Shel Silverstein, and how I can sometimes most easily relate to the simple way in which he says things. I may be a senior in college, and I should now consider Keats, Blake and Browning some of the best by piling my bookshelves high with their Romantic literature, but Where the Sidewalk Ends will forever remain one of my favorites.

new resolutions.

"If one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."Henry David Thoreau

After recording a new years resolution list a few weeks ago, (with over 20+ items) 2011 started off seeming slightly overwhelming. That is, until, I read the quote above, which fits nicely as my theme for twenty eleven. Some of my to-do list items include: making my bed every single day (and considering I have 32 pillows, it is actually quite the undertaking) I'd like to teach myself how to cook a new meal once a week, and... a resolution list wouldn't be a resolution list without some sort of new diet/exercise program: P90x baby. Talk about a workout.

Last year, I'm happy to say that I made a list of about 10 goals and each one was successfully accomplished. Surprisingly, the easiest item to cross off my list was deactivating my Facebook account. Although this was a joint partnership decision, (Kylie Haws inspired me, and the moral support went a long way) we originally thought we'd just get rid of it for 2010, while 2011 was left up for debate. But after 365 days without the book of the face, I decided to keep it up forever... Life regained balance after the habit of stalking was broken, and George Clooney might have convinced me too:

“I’d rather have a rectal examination on live TV by a fellow with cold hands than have a Facebook page.”

Agreed.

kia ora

I had a hard time justifying blogging, or anything internet-related really, while on holiday in New Zealand. So I didn't. But now that I'm home, I wanted to post some of the most beautiful pictures, after one of the most spectacular vacations I've ever been on.

Devonport, Paihia, Mission Bay... I felt like I was a part of a postcard almost everywhere I went. (Everything that is, except for when I saw Rangitoto Island. Inside joke. My parents will get it).

Last Christmas I was absolutely fascinated with the country. But this time, I fell in love with it. To be quite honest, I have so many stories to tell, I will probably wait to cover different parts of my vacation over the next few weeks, but first, I have to share the most exciting story of the year. Or I guess due to the date, it would be the most exciting story of last year. Happy (belated) New Year by the way!

So here's what went down: My family ventured out on this boat called the Excitor while we were visiting the Bay of Islands. Basically, all you need to do is imagine yourself flying over the ocean at 70 mph while seeing all these amazing islands created by volcanoes thousands of years ago, all completely covered in green grass and trees and flowers. The point of the Excitor is to take you to this place called Piercy Island about 45 minutes out into this bay. It was spectacular. Absolutely everything about it. But... then just imagine something going horribly wrong. Instant whip lash. Your boat has stopped. Your head has hit a bar, and you are almost positive you have a concussion. Your sunglasses have flown off the edge of the boat. Your sister has fallen out of her seat. You look back and your dad's forehead is covered in blood. Your mom is throwing up. Yes. This, in a nutshell, ended up being our trip out on the Excitor. In the end, it ended up being not so exciting.

Other than that minor mishap, (and really, my version of that story is extremely dramatic) -- I can't even begin to tell you how much I am growing to love this country. Even with the whip lash. (Just kidding). Everything is green. And not a normal green, but a green, green, green - like somebody took a crayon and colored everything, everywhere you look. Wild flowers cover the roaming hills. Eighty percent of the time, you're somewhere near the coast. The accent (of course) is still the most charming thing to me in the entire world. And out of all the exciting adventures over the past two weeks, I got to bottle feed a tiny little lamb with the help of a boy named Damian (aka my future rugby playing husband) and I have decided that aside from owning a golden retriever named Chester the II, I will one day herd sheep because the baby ones are unbelievably cute.

Anyway, I'll leave it at that for now. I'll try to include some other stories soon, but now that I'm back home, and the new year is here, (forgive me if I post another belated "2010 in review" for my own sake in a few days) I have to say one thing about the past year of my life, because it deserves being said:

2010, I didn't want you to go. I thought everything about you was nearly perfect. You were exactly what I needed, and truthfully, I have never been happier with the success of 365 days well lived. But if on a scale of 1-10, 2010 was an 11, I have a feeling this year just might be a 12.