1. Les Miserables. I have nothing new to say on the subject, so I'll say it in three words: I loved it.* I read the novel when I was 19 and it immediately became one of my favorite books, so combining the story line with the music was unbelievable. (I still have yet to see the play!) Needless to say, Meet Joe Black is no longer the reigning, remaining favorite movie of mine.

2. Is it just me, or is Winter probably the best of Vivaldi's Four Seasons?

(2 1/2. I have two rules which Max refuses to understand: listening to classical music if I'm making dinner, and listening to golden oldies when I'm cleaning.)

3. My current online activity includes checking for job opportunities at the Ellen Degeneres show...?

4. I am convinced that I was born genetically prone to liking boy-bands. Don't judge, One Direction makes you happy too. Admit it.

5. Is anyone else confused on who this guy named Te'o is, who his girlfriend was, and what the hoax is all about? I've read seven articles today (seven!) and I still have no idea what is going on.

6. Helen Keller is the best Apples to Apples card you can have.

7. "I'll wear your granddad's clothes, I look incredible." You've probably heard it, too. I like it.

8. I spent an hour (or two) in bed this morning watching "Learn How to Speak French" videos on Youtube. It's still not coming.

9. If you were born in the late 80's and are female, you most likely saw at least one of the Mary Kate & Ashley movies growing up. The movies that somehow always left me questioning why their parents never interfered with their pre-teen love lives? Anyway, I should mention that somehow (I really don't even know how this happened) I started watching part 3 of Our Lips Are Sealed and I was so embarrassed for them that I covered my eyes. I literally covered my eyes while watching it. I was dying. I still am.

10. Max doesn't get home from class until late on Thursday nights, so going 14 hours without seeing him feels like 14 days. Because of this, Thursday nights often turns into our late night/make-up-for-lost-times date night and we've already talked about it: but seriously? Buy one Big Mac, get one for 1¢? You'll know where to find us at midnight.

the future of america tonight.

"It's been a part of the American experience to know that its future is better than its past...Let us begin that future for America tonight."

I voted early, and nearly ran once we parked the car to get in line outside of the Utah County Health building, to wait patiently for my own turn at the polls. I'll have to be honest in admitting that regardless of what the majority of my fellow Americans vote tonight, and even though I so desperately hope that the next President of the United States will be Governor Mitt Romney, I felt proud (as I'm sure we all do) that I was voting as an American first and foremost, for a future of a country that I so gratefully and proudly believe in.

october.

 Note:
-I married a pumpkin carving connoisseur.  Max takes these things so seriously, but claims it's because it's his first Halloween in three years.
-Max also tagged along with me and my dad to his first ever BYU football game. I think he enjoyed himself, minus the cougar fight song. He refused to sing along with that.
-Witches night out this year was another success!
-If you're not into really, really scary movies, (like me) anything black and white will do. Cape Fear, Twilight Zone episodes, Rear Window... some of our favorites this year.
-And I'm always amazed at how much we get into our murder mystery dinner parties. I almost convinced myself that I had actually had an affair with Al Capone in 1928.

And wish us luck as we throw our first (ever) Halloween party. Homemade root beer and trick-or-treat bags all thanks to Pinterest will be on the menu, (ps. remind me to tell you which gift bag not to recreate, because it's impossible to be that cute, and I wasted two boxes of brownies on it) - anddd no UVU dances for me this year, thank you very much.

And thank you, dear month of October, for always being so great. I'll be missing you these next 11 months, until we meet again.

politicalness.

I shy away from any talk of my political beliefs, because chances are some of you might agree, a lot of you may disagree, and I probably won't sway anyone's opinions regardless.
But I'm going to go for it again anyway.

A lot of people care about a lot of different things: some people find passion in women's rights, in going green, even in saving the dolphins... But somewhere down the line, my interest and passion took root in politics. I have asked myself once or twice why I didn't major in political science? Whatever the reason, it's a big mystery to us all. Whether it was seeing my parents involvement, September 11th, the 8th grade debate team, I really couldn't say; but something, somewhere down the line was triggered and has since been something that has mattered to me so much that I physically feel this need, this impulse to voice my opinion, to stand up and to say something.

I think this drives Max crazy to be honest. In fact, I know it does. He makes me turn off the TV when I start getting antsy, and then we have to play a round of tennis when Obama has frustrated me again, (which lately has been a lot). I know my friends have always joked about it (they just need to ask me about socialized Obamacare) and truth be told, a lot of them just don't find interest in it. I can't entirely blame them I guess, because I don't have much to say about saving the trees either.

But what I do have to say, no matter who it is, no matter your interests, no matter your party affiliations, no matter what basically: (and I am shamelessly going to use my small soap box online to say it right here right now,) is that we all have an obligation to vote. Many of us know it is our privilege, but that is exactly what makes it so much more of our responsibility.

In the 2008 election, only 64% of people in the United States eligible to vote actually went to the polls; Utah had the lowest voter turn out rate in ALL the county (53%), yet so many of us just don't! So many people say it won't make a difference! Utah will be a Romney state no matter what. New York will vote for Obama. Some say there's a little bit more of a reason to vote in a swing state like Florida or Colorado ... but as for my generation, the generation who will be the most affected by everything going on right now: today, tomorrow, this presidential election... We are the one's least likely out of all the age groups who will actually get registered, and get out to vote. If statistics are right, only half of us will this upcoming November 6th. So I'm pleading with all of you who read this: Just go do it. Vote.

I know this sounds crazy, but I care so much I could cry. I truly believe that this is one election where things will actually drastically change depending on whose elected President of the United States of America. Things will be very different one way or another four years from now.

I love this country, I love what it stands for, and I love that we are the children, and grandchildren, and great-grandchildren of heroes who have fought and died and lived for an idea that they believed in and that they'd put their life on the line for: for freedom to speak, to act, to choose, and to live. We are privileged and we are obligated to go out and make our vote count, not only because we can, but because so many hundreds of thousands of people never could, never have, and never may be able to. So please, please, please - just do it. Register. Wake up early to beat the lines on November sixth. Go make your vote. Use your voice. I know this entire post may sound like a public announcement ad -- but out of all the many things I believe in, the United States of America is right there at the top of the list.

(Print can be found via)

bad day daises and stuff.

1. Smash Book - a birthday present that I've finally started using and I absolutely love it.
2. Bad day daisies, which have lasted for more than two weeks! 14 days of insta-cheer.
3. You'll know me by these polka dot pants, because I've matched them every outfit I can. Love them so.
4. The Disneyland fund jar. So far Max and I have saved $116 dollars (amaze!!) But even though we're short a couple hundred, I think Mickey's Halloween Party sounds like too much fun to miss. (and people think I'm joking when I say I get onto disneyland.com once a week... #fact)
5. My partner-in-crime, who bought me a pink tennis racket of my own!
6. The reason why I hide his guitar on the weekends. His ability to focus on any of our conversations drops negative one hundred.
7. Getting ready for The Dirty Dash. A group of us talked ourselves into doing it, (not sure why) but it's happening this Saturday, ready or not.
And 8. If it's not bad day daisies or a cheese pizza, Max knows the only other way to my heart is a fridge full of diet coke. Clearly my health matters to me.

but why?

I remember the first time I attended an Opera. It wasn't romantic... or that much fun. I was 13 years old, and my dad had bought tickets for the family to attend a Saturday night production of La Bohème at Capitol Theater. I dreaded going, I dreaded even the idea of sitting through an entire two hours of people singing in French, and worst of all, I dreaded spending any Friday night without the company or quality of my Dream Street CD.

I remember asking my dad why we had to go. A lot. I'm sure he said something about spending quality time with family, but when I kept persisting, but whyyyy ... I remember him saying something about the importance of broadening our horizons.

Years later, in a British Lit class at BYU, I had a very wise professor ask us why we were in college. Beside, perhaps, becoming informed citizens, gaining necessary credentials, and socializing - why were we there willing to study History? Art? or Literature? Why did something that happened in 1809 matter over two hundred years later? Why read Wordsworth? Practice the piano? Travel thousands of miles to see the Mona Lisa? Or barely survive reading The Odyssey for the first time? Why do we care?

My dad must have taken a class from this same professor, because he said something about broadening our horizons, too... But then he quoted something I doubt I'll ever forget:

Make your mind an interesting place to live for the rest of your life.

the best day.

I have wanted to write this post since the day I got home from our honeymoon, but I feel like time is the one thing that changes the most when you get married, because it goes by so much faster.

When we got our wedding pictures back, I was just over the moon (thanks a million to Sara and Robin and their dad too!) Looking at them make me so happy. That day was truly the best day of my life -- and you'll hear that from anyone who gets married, (and everyone may have different reasons,) and although there are a thousand of reasons why, and a million tiny moments I would wish to live over, the best part would have to be the time we had in the temple.

Up until the day of the wedding, everything went by so fast it was almost hard for me to really grasp the fact that I was actually getting married. I'm sure it's different for everyone, but it wasn't until the moment we pulled up and I saw the Salt Lake City temple across the street, and knew for the first time I'd be getting to go in, and I'd be going in to get married... well, it all finally sank in. Right then and there.

Words will never be enough for the way I felt. The sacred and special and profound realization at the enormity of the decision I was making (or had already made,) companioned with a tremendous amount of assurance, faith, peace and most especially a love for Max and for eternal promises and for families that I had never felt so profoundly before -- it made me cry and smile and feel so, so happy, that happy doesn't even begin to describe it. I kept telling Max that life is worth living for that one day alone; it is tremendously, incredibly, unbelievably special.

I was reminded of all those feelings last week, and probably not for the reason you'd think. Max and I got in our first big disagreement. (disagreement always sounds better than fight, doesn't it?) Big enough that we both needed an hour of the silent treatment. When we finally got around to making up, I was not only upset with myself for the way I had acted, but for wasting two hours of our weekend on this pointless fight. So I cried. I apologized two or three times, and so did he. But Max, who is usually the better half, just smiled and told me that those two hours weren't going to be the end of the world (or our weekend, for that matter). We have a very long time to love each other.

And that's what reminded me.

Knowing that relationships last forever, and that the promises I made that day in the temple were blended with the world eternal; knowing that I get to work on my own relationship with Max forever, that I get to have him forever, and that our time together will be forever... well, I felt so happy, it reminded me of the feeling I felt the day I got married. And happy doesn't even begin describe it.

--

(I'll post more pictures this week! I have a million + one thousand more that I love.)

our time capsule.

Three years ago I talked about a time capsule we buried. I referred to it as a treasure box, something that held my most favorite memories. And just a few weeks ago, we finally opened it – the five year marker had come.

Opening that box, sitting on the high school bleachers, with the two best friends I had buried it with years ago, was nostalgic and bittersweet in a thousand ways. I could list the hundreds of memories it brought back, mostly all the things it made us miss, but that would take too much time. It was enough, though, to make me feel 17 again.

We had buried our first cell phones, old wallets, corsages and our 2007 graduation glasses and tassels. I had forgotten about the high school mixtapes, msn conversations (don’t judge us for printing those), matching Hollister boxer shorts (you can judge us for that. I would too.) and passed notes. But what I found most special, out of all the memories I had wanted to place in that box, was a letter I had written to myself five years ago.

Truth be told, I was actually amazed at how insightful this letter was, considering I was just graduating high school at the time I wrote it. I had written a list of what I had expected out of myself, what I hoped I'd do in those five years, what I hoped would be different and the same. Although I won’t write all of it down, I will treasure that letter almost as much as the treasure box itself.

As we finished going through our pile of memories, laughing and even gasping at some of the final things we found, I guess what I really felt the most was this sense of time that has passed. I felt it. Those five years have come and gone. Five years spent in so many ways. So much has changed, so much has remained the same – mostly though, so much has happened; so many “clever twists” as Kylie would say, and that has brought both heartache and joy. Endings and beginnings. (I’d like to add, all for the best, too.)

Opening our time capsule five years after it was buried was memorable in every way that it could be. We laid in the grass for a little while afterward, talking about our treasures and as I looked up at the stars, all I wanted to do was pause time. I sometimes forget how fast it flies by, but things like a time capsule certainly remind you.

Soon enough we plan on meeting again to bury another treasure chest. As I’ve been looking around for what I’d like to put in the time capsule this time, I have felt overwhelmingly grateful to be in my skin. To be me. That wasn’t something I’d expect to feel, but I’m sure glad I do.

--
photos:
//the time capsule buried in 07 
//our first cell phones
//homecoming corsage 
//kylie's love (clever twist: then and now)
//mr. clause is actually max! 
//sara's first boyfriend.. and our forever favorite friend mr. lewis.
//sweet sara, who looks like elton john. 
//the letter.

life of pi - trailer

“What a terrible thing it is to botch a farewell. I am a person who believes in form, in the harmony of order. Where we can, we must give things a meaningful shape. For example - I wonder - could you tell my jumbled story in exactly one hundred chapters, not one more, not one less?"

-Yann Martel, Life of Pi

A lot of people I know have a love/hate relationship with this book, but I happened to side on the love end of it. I read it a few summers ago (thanks to my kindred spirit Elin's highest recommendations) and it was also the summer Cupcake Chic came into town; so my memories of reading The Life of Pi are combined with coconut cupcakes. Maybe that is why I love it so.

Just a few weeks ago, I was able to convince Max to start reading the Life of Pi, and he stayed up way past our bedtime last night just so he could finish it. The end of the book is worth reading all 110 chapters alone - and is definitely one of the biggest twists I had not expected the entire time I was reading it.

Two other books being made to movies are The Night Circus and The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (starring Kate Winslet). I loved both of them, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed. People always have opinions about books being made into movies, but if I loved the book, I usually hold out hope for the on-screen version of what I read, too.

I've concluded that Les Mis, Wreck-It Ralph and Pi will probably be my three movie friends this Christmas. I still don't know if I'd recommend the book to everyone, but the movie trailer sure makes it look good.

christmas eve theory.

Last Saturday was my 23rd Birthday.

It was also my one month anniversary.

That same day Max and I had a long drive back from Wallowa Lake, OR to Boise, ID so we did what we do best, and talked for most of our five hour drive.

It was during that drive that I told Max about "The Christmas Eve theory" my friends and I had once come up with. Let me explain:

A few years ago, my friends and I had convinced ourselves that dating really wasn't that bad, (which makes me laugh, because lets be honest: it is.) Dating, as we put it then, was like the Christmas season. And everything was being built up to Christmas Eve, which was our equivalent to falling in love, and getting married. But just like everybody knows, Christmas Eve is way better than Christmas day itself. Once Christmas Day is over, it's all over. No more Christmas cheer. It was over when the wedding was over. Yep. That was our ultra-unaffirmative Christmas Eve theory.

Admittedly, this theory was mostly to console us after an unfortunate realization that who we had liked at the time, certainly did not like us back... But as Max and I laughed in the car and talk about it now, I realized how wrong I was then. I hate to admit it, (partly because I am the co-creator of this theory,) but it is false. All false. There is no such thing as the Christmas Eve Theory. I know I've only been married for a month, but it's been the best month, 31+ days, of all my life. I'll be honest, there are plenty of adjustments: sleeping in the same bed with a wiggle worm and a sleep talker is one of them. I feel like I'll have mono for the rest of my life. But making it to "Christmas day" was a whole lot better than what I already dreamed it could be. Way better than Christmas Eve.

I'm a week late, but happy birthday and one month anniversary to me. I celebrated by coming up with a new theory: my old theory was wrong. Christmas day wins.

latest favs

I feel like I'm always last on the bandwagon, but these are some of my favorites lately:

1. Snow Flower and the Secret Fan

I really couldn't put this book down for a few weeks.  The culture and practice of foot binding in nineteenth-century China was fascinating to read about, (albeit, rather gruesome, too) and was so well written that I really felt like I was a part of another time in history. What especially kept my attention, though, was the story of Lily and her relationship with her "laotong" Snow Flower. Their friendship, the intertwining of their lives through their secret messages and fan; you read their story starting from their early foot bindings at six or seven years old, through their adolescence, marriage, family, children, etc. I thought the concepts and ideas in this book such as "old-sames" and "a woman's duty" were intriguing and thought provoking, and was glad my mom had already read it because it was definitely one of those books you want to discuss and ask questions about.

2. Jonsi



Go Icelandic music.


3. The Artist

I will admit, although I'm sure I've tried to sound cultured (read: trendy) enough in admitting that I enjoy silent movies, and periodically visit the Organ Loft, if I were really being honest, I would tell you that I actually get bored every time. It is only fun for the first five minutes, and then I check my watch every few minutes after that waiting for the end. This silent movie, however, (a very, very big however!) was enchanting, charming and simply perfect from start to finish. Max wishes he could be Captain America, I wish I could be Peppy Miller. I have seen it three times already, and can honestly admit that The Artist is definitely a new favorite in every way.


(and what kind of person shares lists like these without sharing a viral YouTube video. now, that is the bestest... it's yumma!)

engagements - (us!)

Last night Max and I talked on the phone, like we usually do, right before we went to bed. I made sure to remind him that we needed to get our marriage license in the morning, and he asked me to make sure he picked sea sickness patches and a toothbrush at WalMart.

In the middle of all that, for some reason, I was reminded of myself six years ago: sitting in my bedroom, trying to whisper over the phone because my sister slept in the room next to mine.  For as long as I can remember, my nightly conversations with Max have been a part of every day. I remember one conversation in particular, though, talking about life after high school when we were only 17. We talked about what we wanted to be one day, where we planned on going to school, what we planned on doing, and most of all how we planned on living: seeing something, being something, doing something. We talked about our futures.

It's crazy to me to think that six years later, "that future" that I so often dreamed about and tentatively planned on is here. And it's with Max. And for the first time last night, amidst all the planning and commotion over the last few weeks and months, I felt so at peace. I could have never chosen anything or anyone better, or could have possibly wished that night on the phone so many years ago, for anything more.

To still be so madly, madly in love with someone who has always remained my very best friend, no matter the ups and downs and sideways growing up together inevitably brings, words will never be enough.

The future was really never as far off as I thought it would be, and now that "it's here" I couldn't be more grateful and excited for it to be with the boy I always hoped it would be.

--

All images via Sorella Image

when one chapter closes, another one.. opens?

I've only been alive for 22 (almost 23) years, but lately I've noticed that I look back and categorize different parts of my life into "chapters." For example: college, high school, junior high, and elementary school years; the years I lived in Salt Lake, the years I lived in Woodland Hills. Some of it, though, is categorized a little differently: Dream Street days, Hawaii, the summer on my bike, 2010, "ninth grade." (junior high was awful).

And over the last few weeks, I've realized that the time has come for another chapter to close and another one to open. Usually these endings and beginnings can go unnoticed, because it all happens without you really even realizing it... but this chapter is a little different. I know that on June 21st, 2012 I will no longer be just Kelsie Christensen. I will no longer live by myself, make decisions just for myself, or do whatever I want to do every day. In some ways that's scary, in others, nothing has made me more happy or fulfilled.

And then I get texts sometimes, like today at 9:57 AM which read: "I am excited to marry you." And then I wonder how on earth I lived 22 (almost 23) years and chapters, without him by my side every day. I would say that life is one gazillion times better with Max than it would be with even one million sweedish fish and bike rides and sunsets in Hawaii ... plus a years supply of diet coke.

I've never been more content and ready for so many good (and fun, and carefree, and becoming) chapters to close, in order for the most special one to open.

3 more things

dresses from decades,

a cake i've always dreamed of,
and the flower patch at the supermarket
(aka walmart)

3 things

these things i love:

max playing his guitar,
ken's thrifted daisy dukes,
and two rings made out of ribbon
(which max made himself!)
when my ring had to get sized,
and max was insistent that i still wear something on my finger.