Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Reasons Why I'm Stressed:

This morning I was feeling a lot of stress, so I decided to blog about it. If you don't wanna hear my whine, stop reading.

1. For Dahl's birthday, I got us tickets to see Jack Johnson, but now his mission BFFs (yes, both from his mission) are getting married and have a reception that night. It's 6-9, and the concert starts at 7. The doors open at 5:30, and it is supposed to take 2 hours to get there because of concert traffic, normal Friday night traffic, AND construction. Sooo now the plan is to drop by the reception at 6, leave at 6:05, and book it down there, but even then we won't get there until about 8. STRESSFUL! Fun fact, did you know that people sitting in traffic have more of blood pressure rise aka feel more stressed than soldiers about to go into combat? Yeah. Ridiculous. Luckily, our friends David and Amy are going too, so they will try to save us seats, but it depends on how early they get there, too. Still stressed though. I mean, if we're lucky, we'll only miss an hour :( ALSO, we are going to the Tim McGraw concert July 30, so that will be our little test run :)

2. My mommy is coming into town! That's actually not stressful, just exciting, but it does mean I have to take off work, which leads to something I actually am a little stressed about:

3. Getting a new manager. I've never worked under a manager here, because the last one resigned/ got fired for stealing money from the university. So now we're about to have a new one. What if she's mean or strict or no fun??? I'm trying to be optimistic. But it's hard to re-adjust from having complete freedom to not so complete freedom. We'll see how this goes.

4. I am still trying to sign up for my college courses for next semester. I REALLY wanna take Children's Literature to fill one of my requirements because it is only 2 credits and super fun and easy according to Heather, which is something compared to the other options. If I can take that, I will have one credit left to fill, so I can take an aerobic and a dance class! Which will be super fun :) BUT majors have first dibs, so I probably won't get it :-/. I kinda wanna make Heather get a friend to sign up for it and drop it last minute so I can have it!

5. I have to get a passport so I can go to Mexico. ASAP. If I wanna go. I also have to request off for then, too. I also have to figure out if I can go to Kali's wedding (I want to soo bad, I'm supposed to be a bridesmaid!), and I have to wait for Larissa to tell me the plan before I can buy a plane ticket. Also, I'm helping to plan her bridal shower!! Which is more exciting than stressful, but we do need to get a move on about that. I hope Katelyn has gotten off of work...

6. The stupid light in Dahl’s apartment. In his kitchen, it is ridiculous. It is constantly flickering and it drives me crazy. I just called maintenance, hopefully it goes through, because I hate it.

7. And the carpet. It has black sticky spots on the floor. I hate them, too.

8. I have to go visiting teaching. Today is the last day of the month. I've tried to schedule before, and it has fallen through every single time. So this is my/our (my companion who I have never met and am probably driving crazy in my attempts to schedule us all through text) last shot!

9. Teachers not turning in their receipts. If you look at my entry about my job, you will understand better. Today I had to call and email tons of faculty. I don't really mind, except I've emailed them multiple times, and it seems like they just ignore me. Today Layne went on a rampage and tons of people last minute turned them in. This= lots of last minute things for me to enter.

10. Amy, David, Dahl, and I were supposed to go with Amy's family to St George? Now her dad sold the house though, so this isn't exactly stressful to me, just kind of sad. Because I was SOOO excited!! They still wanna go and maybe just camp out, but Dahl says that will be horrible because it's too hot to sleep outside when it's 100 degrees.

11. I should be applying for scholarships. And I'm not. I only got a half tuition scholarship for next semester (I know wahhh! But I've always had full, so it's a new concept to me to be paying for school at all. I know I am spoiled. Buuttt I have better grades than you do, so I deserve it. Kinda. No JK, but I do work hard for scholarships.) so I should be trying to get someone else to pay for the other half. We'll see where that goes.

12. We're out of dishwasher soap and toilet paper in my apartment.

13. Lori's leaving me and going on a mission! But I'm super excited for her, I'm just sad because I'll miss her. And what will happen to our presidency??

14. Heather needs a job. And so I'm helping her apply and stuff. Which is fine, don't get me wrong. I LOVE helping my sister, she is my best friend :) And I would do it without anyone telling me to. The stressful part is that Dad is super duper into the whole process, and keeps saying things to me like "I know you are such a good sister, so you're gonna help Heather get a job!" "You're so good at this Kelly, you're gonna make everything better." Whaaat?!?! I mean I'll try, but talk about pressure. It's seems like it's this weird kind of way my dad is trying to encourage me, so that I will feel obligated to help because I am already being praised for helping. Instead of reverse psychology, it's like pre-work psychology. But it's okay, I love my Daddy :)

15. I have terrible cramps. Bleh.

16. I feel like I just keep getting fatter.

So that's it. Don't worry, I'm still a super happy little girl and I know I'm very blessed :)

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

How Cautious is Too Cautious?

This might seem dumb, but I think I am far more wary than many of my female Provo counterparts. And sometimes, I think it may be unnecessary. I mean, this is PROVO, right? Nestled in the middle of Happy Valley! I have been more nervous than usual after that girl got attacked ( the trail Dahl and I like to go on walks on. I have always been cautious about where I go alone, and I have never been on that trail by myself. Dahl would not allow it, and even if he did or didn't know, I would be far too scared to do that. I have always been counseled to be cautious by my Daddy, and I always have tried to keep myself out of potentially dangerous situations, but sometimes I feel a little ridiculous. Especially because I have never had anything truly horrible happen to me. I have lead, up to this point, what my mom likes to call "a charmed life". I have always been very blessed with protection and safety. But, I still feel nervous when I find myself in a situation that could easily turn ugly.

So, before you read on, make sure you understand that this thought process might sound a little over the top, but that is kind of the point, and all of these thoughts are accurate. And I kind of wonder if other girls think this way, too. I bet they do.

This morning I got up around 9 so I could run and grab my laundry that was left in the laundry room overnight. I was by myself, and I wasn't worried until I heard a man come into the laundry room. If he were a college student, I would have just brushed it off as him getting his own laundry, but this was an older and larger man who I had never seen before. I vaguely remembered Dahl saying that the laundry room seemed like a sketchy place for a girl to be on her own, because a lot of times no one is there. I realized that I was the only other person in the laundry room, and my guard was instantly up. He didn't look mean or threatening, but I knew if he attacked me, I wouldn't stand much of a chance. I did take self defense last semester, but I'm pretty sure that would do little for me if I were actually in trouble. He started talking to me, which is a good sign, because then I would be able to remember a description if questioned BUT what if he wasn't going to leave me alive? I had a HUGE suitcase I brought to carry my laundry, and I could've easily fit inside (I had randomly had this thought as I walked into the laundry room and saw it sitting above the dryers). I tried to concentrate on what he was saying:

"How are the dryers working?"
"Good..." I said, looking at him warily, trying to keep my distance.
"Giving you any trouble?"
"No... well, last night that machine ate two of my quarters."
"Oh, well let me check my pockets, I bet I can pay you back now."
*He puts his hands in his pockets. I can hear jingling that sounds like coins, but there could totally be a knife in there, too*
"Here we are," he said, pulling out two quarters.
He asked me a few more questions about the dryer not working, and went on his way.

See? He was totally nice. There was nothing wrong with him, and he wasn't trying to threaten me at all. He undoubtedly works for my apartment complex. I wonder if he could even tell that I was nervously thinking of what to do if he attacked me. Probably not. But what if he was actually dangerous??

I remember another time, when I was probably about 18 or 19. I was walking in a dark, almost abandoned parking lot of maybe a Wal-mart? No one was around, and an awesome lightning storm was going on. I believe I was just about to go inside of the Wal-mart to wait for my mom to pick me up or something, the details are fuzzy. I was suddenly addressed by a guy who came out of nowhere. He looked like he was in clean clothes, and he was clean cut, so I don't think he was a homeless man, but he still worried me when he seemed to stumble a little bit as he almost pleadingly asked me if I had any money. I felt bad, but as a general rule I don't give out my money (I am a poor college student, and I am kind of selfish. I mean, I pay my tithing and that's the end of my charitable donations.) and I was instantly on alert in case he meant me any harm. I actually did have money, but I said, no, sorry, and left as quickly as I could. And I don't think that's such a bad thing. He could have been a law- abiding, contributing-to-society man who just lost his wallet and needed gas money to get home. BUT, he could have also been something more dangerous, and he was approaching me in an almost abandoned parking lot late at night. I don't think anyone should put themselves in a situation that seems like it could be sketchy, and especially not me.

One time, my mom told me a story about her friend from our first ward in Maryland, a lady who was about her age, who was driving on an empty country road in the middle of the night. She said this lady soon heard sirens behind her from a policeman who was trying to pull her over. She waved to him to acknowledge that she knew he was there, and continued driving until she got to a road that was more out in the open. When she did pull over, the policeman charged over to the car and angrily asked her why she had not stopped earlier. This lady was never one to mince her words, and I remember her even scaring me as a little girl, so what happened next didn't surprise me at all: She scathingly rebuked him, and told him that she was perfectly within her rights to wait till she got to a more open area before pulling over. She said, " I am a woman who is all by herself, driving on a secluded road. There is NO WAY I am pulling over for you until I get to somewhere more safe. I don't even know who you are! You could have been someone who stole a police car or a dirty cop. That situation makes me vulnerable, and I don't care if you are law enforcement, I will not put myself in a situation that is that dangerous." He sputtered an apology, and I have since learned that that is the accepted advice, to not pull over until you get to a more populated area, and if you are suspicious, to call and ask the police station if the person trying to pull you over is legit. Of course, this story has a happy ending, and the cop was not a threat, (except maybe to her insurance) but I have also heard similar stories where the man was a convicted rapist.

In all of these stories, things worked out just fine. No one was ever hurt or threatened, and I (or this sister from my ward) were relatively safe. But, the point is, it could have easily been reversed. They could have been horrible men who meant us harm, and who knows what could have happened?

So, I guess what I'm asking is, how cautious is too cautious? Should girls carry around pepper spray everywhere they go? Should they never walk alone? How much do these answers vary based on location and time of day? Should men follow this advice, too?

Just food for thought :)

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Something I Hate

Cattiness. Before I continue, I am going to provide a definition, because when I told the guys at my work that I was writing a blog on cattiness, they had no idea what I was talking about. So,the definition of catty is: "Subtly cruel or malicious; spiteful: a catty remark."

I am NOT going to say I have never been guilty of this. I am a girl, so of course I have had my catty moments. I still have them. I can be a total brat sometimes. I grew up in a family that started out with four girls. If you don't think gossip was a favorite topic of conversation, you are dead wrong. I remember multiple times at the dinner table talking about how "Oh my GOSH he said.... and then she said...!!!" "I cannot BELIEVE how rude she was to her! I mean, seriously!" "Whatever, she's not even cute!" My mom always cut us off quickly when the topic got catty. "No gossip! Her name is safe in our house!" (What does that even mean??) Usually we would just continue our conversations out of earshot, but I still knew that gossiping was not something that was tolerated in our house.

In my current ward, I was always on top of the gossip. My friend Brent, who was even more into it than I was, used to say I was the gossip queen of the ward. Now I am significantly less on top of it, mostly because I got a boyfriend, but I still like to know what's going on. However, I was never mean in my gossiping. It wasn't about what someone was wearing or how stupid so and so is, it was about how so and so was dating so and so and who liked who. And I didn't go spreading things, either. Mostly, I just knew things. So, yes, I have done my fair share of gossiping. But I have never once gotten to the level of cattiness that I have observed around me in High School and sometimes in college. I've never been responsible for a horrible rumor, I've never tried to make it so someone didn't have any friends, I've never told someone they were ugly/fat/stupid, and I've never enjoyed listening to it either.

I remember in High School, for a short amount of time, I was in a group that would have been considered the more "popular" group. I didn't hang out with them much except in school, but I became pretty good "friends" with one girl, who we will call Kirsten. Kirsten was pretty and funny and we would always laugh so much when we were together. One thing that she would do that made me uncomfortable was say snotty things about people for no reason at all. I didn't care too much, because she was always nice to me, at least I thought so, but I always had a hard time responding. Usually I could come up with a relatively convincing, "Eww!" or "I know!" or "So weird!" But I always felt a little uncomfortable and unsure of what to say.

Another place cattiness was readily apparent was Girls Camp. I loved Girls Camp the first few years I went. In fact, I think I loved it all the way through. It had a mess hall, pool, bathroom, and cabins for us to sleep in. It also had an intense amount of estrogen. Holy cow. No girls should be so secluded from men for such a long period of time. I have never seen so much drama in my life.

There was this one girl, who we will call Allie. Allie and I had been childhood friends. In fact, our families had always been close, ever since we moved to our new ward in Maryland. After we hit probably around 12, we stopped being friends with Allie. We remained really good friends with the rest of the family, and we were still nice to her, but I decided I did not need to deal with her more than absolutely necessary. And this is why: She would say some of the meanest things to me and my sisters, but mostly me. She would tell us we were ugly, no one liked us, and we were dumb. Seriously. It was horrible. I knew all of these things were untrue, but it still hurt my feelings, especially because we had been such good friends, and I didn't know what had happened. I usually just left as quickly as I could whenever she started on one of her snotty streaks.

At girls camp, this exploded. I had a friend who was not so apt to take crap as I was, and we will call her Katie. Katie was one of my best friends from church. She was super nice to me, and everyone who was nice to her, but she stood right up to Allie. I specifically remember hearing them screaming at each other in our YCL cabin, and Allie cussing all over the place. I believe I was in my bed pretending to sleep, but Katie told her exactly how it was and how it was not okay to be so mean for no reason at all. I'm pretty sure Allie stormed off, and told her mom. Later on that day, I believe, her mom (who was a camp leader) came to my dad (who was a Bishop visiting for the day) screaming about the situation. I can actually still hear her voice in my head. "You know what Sid?! (I have had it with this, my daughter is in the Mess Hall crying her eyes out because of Kelly! You have said that my daughter is abusive and mean to your daughter but it is MY daughter who is hurt and it is YOUR daughter who has been abusive to MY daughter!" Her finger pointed at me in a very accusatory way, and she looked almost crazed to me. I was mortified. We weren't the only people around, and I was completely unprepared to respond to someone so angry. Luckily, my dad put his arm around me, and said, "Why don't you go on to testimony meeting?" As I began to run down the hill, I remember hearing him say in this incredibly calm voice, "Now Belinda..." but that's all I heard; I remember bawling all the way down the hill. Luckily, everyone knew at least some of the situation, and no one thought I was at fault, so it turned out fine, and my dad was able to effectively calm her mom down. She never stopped being mean to me, but she did get less extreme, especially as we learned to avoid each other more.

In college, I thought cattiness was basically over. I knew it would never completely end, but it seemed a lot better. That is, until I moved in with some friends I had made my freshman year. I had some misgivings about it from the start, but I brushed them off; they were, after all, my friends, and I was sure everything would be fine. This next girl we will talk about we will call Anne. Anne had some insecurities, which she exhibited through hating other people. At least, that's the only way I can explain her behavior. She and Megan, the other roommate we had moved in with, HATED the new roommate, Sandy. I was the only one who was nice to her. There was really nothing wrong with her. She was always nice to us, they mostly got upset about when she would touch the temperature controls. I never thought the temperature was horrible either way, and I didn't mind paying $5 for the electric bill, but they did. They would talk about it for HOURS. And I don't think they ever really talked to her about it, so I don't know how she was supposed to know. I remember one time, when she was walking by the apartment, Anne called me over laughing hysterically. "Look at Sandy! Oh my gosh she looks pregnant! She's huge!" (Sandy was NOT that big, but since Anne had just lost a lot of weight, she found a lot of enjoyment in making fun of people who were bigger than she was). I probably said something about how that's so mean!! And left, but I feel like that might have been a turning point for her and me. I think it legitimately bothered her that I would not join in with her and Megan in making fun of Sandy or talking bad about her. And it bothered her that I would include her and talk to her like she was a normal person, which she was.

Sandy moved out halfway through the semester, and then Anne turned to hating me. It almost seems to me like she needed someone to hate in order to feel validated. It started small, but it ended up being unbearable for me to be in the same house as she was, so I was almost never home. Everything she said to me was snotty, everything I said she had to contradict. She would throw my shampoo and conditioner on the bathroom floor and out of the shower. One time, I was doing my make up next to her at the vanity, as she was blow drying her hair. She pulled her cord so that all of my make up was knocked to the floor. I looked at her, expecting at least a sorry, but she just smirked and continued blow drying her hair, while I picked everything up. She also spread rumors about me, although I am not sure how far they spread or how many people believed them. I remember this one guy telling me that she had told him that I was a total slut, which, by the way, I am not, and she had nothing to back up any of her statements. I could go on, because the list of the mean things she did to me is kind of ridiculous, but I don't really want to, and I'm sure it wouldn't be that interesting to you.

One time, she and Megan decided to have a talk with me. It started out with them saying something about how they felt that I was being mean, and I snapped. I said that I hadn't done anything to her, and all she did was be mean to me. I said I could deal with her being mean in my apartment, but spreading lies about me was going way too far. She didn't have anything to say back, really, so I went to my room. I could hear her crying to Megan in the background, but for the first time ever, I didn't care that I had hurt someone's feelings. I was so done taking her crap. I got an opportunity to move out, and I took it, so by the next semester I was back in friendly company.

A few months ago, Heather and Dahl and I were with a group of girls, and the cattiness began once again. One girl, Ella, was talking about how her roommate Susie was being completely inconsiderate, and there was no way they would ever be able to be friends. I knew Susie, and although her actions were not okay, I hardly think taking some otter pops that belonged to Ella and hanging out with other people more was reason to be so hateful. The other girls, who didn’t even know Susie, started saying all kinds of horrible things and drawing crazy conclusions. I sat there feeling more and more uncomfortable by the second. Susie had been nothing but sweet to me, and, although we weren’t the best of friends, we were friends, and I liked her. I tried to say something about how I’m sure that once everyone settled in it would be fine, but Ella said that if someone was rude once, they could never be friends. The conversation drifted to another apartment of girls who were planning a group date. Someone said that Samantha, one of the quieter girls, was planning on inviting one of her other girl friends to come along. “Oh no no no!” said Mary, “She is NOT taking over our date!” … What? Do you even know her friend?? I didn’t even know how to react to all of this, so I kept trying to change the subject, and I was relieved when Heather said she needed to finish a paper, and could we please go home? Later, she told me that I had the same look on my face that I got when I was high up (I’m terrified of heights). Snottiness makes me feel sick to my stomach.

The point of all of these experiences is I think cattiness is ugly. It makes girls who could be the best of friends the worst of enemies. It hurts feelings and doesn’t make you look better at all. I’m not saying that talking about people is never merited, but I do think it would be nice if everyone could just calm down off their estrogen high and be kind. That’s all.

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

My Summer So Far!

· So I haven't really talked about my summer yet, so I'm going to start now :). Yay! And I will add pictures to keep you all wildly entertained :). Ready?? Go!

· Okay so first of all, I went home for a week and a half. It was really fun and relaxing. We didn't do a lot of adventurous things, and the weather was awful, but it was fun just to be with them :) I went to lunch with my parents and to Sarah's baptism; visited all the kids at school, Nicole at her internship, and Grandma at her home; attended church and saw tons of cute ladies I have missed; hosted a bridal shower for Jenn Tippetts; and just overall had fun with the kids and my parents. I love my family!

· Dahl and I celebrated our birthdays together! Mine was the 20th and his was the 21st. Thank GOODNESS my mom hurried up and had me on the 20th, because I would not like to share! But having the days next to each other was soo fun! He gave me: (1) A pink iPod Nano 8G that said on the back "Kelly, you rock my world. iLove you" He even put some songs on it! (2) a calendar that had pictures of my family and him on their respective birthdays and marked important days (1st date, 1st kiss, start of relationship). I now write what we do inside the calendar days. It's super cute, kind of like a journal! (3) He learned "Angel" by Jack Johnson on the guitar and sang it to me :) I gave him: (1) Jack Johnson tickets!(2) A book I made on Picaboo (so kind of like a scrapbook but made online and then bound and printed) that had our story with pictures and then at the end, 100 things I love about him. (3) A flight simulator that he can use to do hours on his computer :) We were the best present givers ever!

· We hiked to Stewart Falls together for Memorial Day! We had a BBQ with his family. So fun :)

We went to IHOP with a bunch of new people in the ward and made new friends and hung out with old friends.

· We got in a cool whip fight after making french toast for breakfast :)

· I did Bikini Body with the Relief Society!

· We went to the Hogle Zoo with David and Amy!

We also did a lot of other fun things without taking pictures! Shame on us for not documenting!

· We’ve gone to Greg’s house (Dahl’s old companion) to hang out with him and his fiancé, Mel, who also served in Dahl’s mission. We saw him (Greg) wrestle calves to the ground and brand them and put an elastic thing around their balls if they were bulls so they would shrivel and fall off. We also 4 wheeled and barbequed. Fun :)

· We doubled with Kali and Shelby and barbequed again, this time at Rock Canyon Park. It was so fun! We played Frisbee and baseball, too.

· We tripled with Heather and Jeremy and Heather’s old roomie Chelsea and Thomas. We went to Trafalga and mini golfed for free because Chelsea works there. We also went to Gandolfo’s. Sooo good!

· We saw Iron Man 2 by ourselves which was sweet and Karate Kid with David and Amy, which was awesome too!

Monday, June 14, 2010

Dahl's Not the Man of My Dreams; He's Better- 'Cause He's Real

So, if you read my last blog post, you know that I was trying to write about something different than what I ended up writing about. I ended up babbling so much, that I decided to make a whole separate post dedicated to this topic, because I think he is a topic that deserves to be given his own post. This post is about Dahl. I haven’t really written anything about him as a person, although the last post had a lot of stories about him, which I found quite entertaining, so I think he deserves a post all for himself. If you don’t wanna hear mushy love stuff, stop reading now. You have been warned.

The title for this blog originated from the quote from the movie 500 Days of Summer. It also originated from the conversation I had with Heather last night/ this morning. She was talking about boys she dated, and she said something interesting that I think every girl kind of thinks. We were talking about a boy she is kind of dating/ debating about dating/ deciding about dating. I was encouraging her, because I think he is a really nice boy, even if he’s not everything she ever wanted, or thinks she wants. She then said, “Well this might sound kinda bratty, but I think I deserve to get everything I want… don’t I?”

This is a question I have asked myself. Don’t I deserve to find that man that has every little insignificant quality that I have always wanted? Shouldn’t he look and act and be interested in every single thing I want him to be interested in? And the answer I have come up with is that would be great, but it’s not really necessary, and finding him would waste a lot of time. And when I did find him, I probably would discover that he’s not really what I wanted at all. Anyway, wouldn't that take out the fun of it? Wouldn't it be less rewarding because it takes out the work and the fight? Isn't everything good worth fighting for? Wouldn't that get boring? I mean who wants to be with someone who is the exact same person you are? I'm not saying you shouldn't be compatible... of course you should be, but I think, possibly naively, that some of the appeal is the willingness to fight to stay together because you love each other so much. It just sounds so romantic. I like the idea that even though you might know that it might be easier to be with someone else, you want to be with this person so badly that you don't care. As Jimmy Dugan said in A League of Their Own, "It's the hard that makes it great."

And what I did was tell Heather about the quote from 500 Days of Summer, where Paul , who has been with his girlfriend, Robyn, since 7th grade, is asked if she is the girl of his dreams. He says: “I wouldn't say ‘the girl of my dreams,’ no. The girl of my dreams would have a bodacious rack. Probably different hair, could like sports a little more. But... truth is...Robyn's better than the girl of my dreams. Cause she's real."

And that exactly sums up what I think and how I feel about Dahl. I might regret blogging this if we end up breaking up or something, but I don’t think we will, so I’m only very minorly concerned about that. I also want to say that I am super logical, and I think that I have been that way about my relationship with Dahl. I think everything through very carefully. I want to figure it out in my head and in my heart. So, I have thought about how Dahl compares to the “man of my dreams”, you know, the one I envisioned when I was a little girl. I also thought about how he has become the real man of my dreams. This is what I have come up with:

In all my pictures I drew as a little girl, the man was a little taller than he is, and he had brown hair. BUT, Dahl also has way bigger muscles than I thought he would have, so go me! (And him). He also really wants to stay in shape and loves to go to the gym. It’s always been one of my greatest and most superficial fears that my husband will get fat once we get married. Dahl is so in love with the gym, and he always talks about how he wants to be in shape is whole life. Score!

I also always imagined him being more into singing and dancing than he is. My whole life I have seen my dad express his love to my mom by being flirty with her through singing and dancing. He will run into the kitchen and start dancing with her when she is making dinner. He will make up silly sweet songs for her all the time. I seriously think it is the most adorable thing EVER. And I’ve always kind of thought my boyfriend would do that. Maybe it was a dumb assumption, but to me, it shows love. The sweetest, most romantic kind of love. And I have always loved singing, so songs really speak to me. Music has always affected me. I honestly cannot get through the national anthem without tearing up. Part of it is that I was raised to love America, but part of it is the song, too. I just love America songs. I also cry in some church songs sometimes.

But I digress. The point is, Dahl doesn’t like singing that much. He doesn’t think his voice is that great, but I honestly don’t care at all. I think it sounds lovely. Especially when it’s singing to me. I don’t know how he got the idea, probably because whenever he plays the guitar I tell him songs he should learn so he can sing them to me, but for my birthday, he learned the “Angel” song by Jack Johnson, and I cried when he sang it to me. I don’t know if he saw, but I thought it was the sweetest thing ever. In some ways, it was my favorite gift he gave me. Every time he sings to me, I fall more in love with him. And I reward him quite well for it, if you get my gist ;).

I still try to get him to sing it to me, because I love it so much. I’ve tried to express to him how much I love it, and I still don’t think he fully understands (he still doesn’t do it all the time), but the fact that it’s not really his thing, and he still does it, shows me something, something that is way more important than liking to sing. It shows me that he is willing to do things he wouldn’t normally do, because I want him to, because he loves me. And that makes me love him even more.

He also is taking a dance class in the fall. Guess why? Because he is the best boyfriend ever, and I wanted him to. That’s why.

Also, he does other ridiculously cute things. Like sometimes when we go on walks, he gives me a piggy-back ride, and then we go "off-roading". Off- roading is when he runs off the trail and narrates our treacherous journey. He'll do things like take me to the edge of the river and lean over just far enough so that I scream as he says "We're tipping over the edge!" and then he saves me and then he'll jump over rocks and be like, "We're taking a jump!" . I squeal and scream and laugh the whole time. It's not the same as what my dad does, but it's the same kind of thing. It's just super flirty and he does it to make me laugh. Which, I think is a sign of a happy couple, if they laugh a lot together. And we do :). I love off- roading.

So, the point is, Dahl might not have every little thing I ever wanted, but he does have every single important thing that I want:

  • He is kind. I have never ever thought that mean guys were cool or the kind of guys I wanted to date. Honestly. The bad guy thing has never been an issue for me. I only like guys who treat me well and are nice to me. My dad’s enduring mantra is “No projects!” and Dahl is not a project. He is so nice to me, but aside from that, he is nice to everyone. He treats everyone with respect and decency. I have never seen him do anything mean in the entire time I have known him. And from the stories I have heard, he has always been that way.
  • He is a good upstanding member of the church. Self explanatory. Mostly, I love that I can ask him for blessings. My daddy always gave us blessings, and I would never want to have a home where the Priesthood was not there when I needed it. And with Dahl, it always would be. He also makes me want to be a better person. If we got married, it would be in the temple.
  • He always knows if there is something bothering me. It’s amazing. Every single time. I don’t really try too hard to hide it from him, but I don’t think it would be worth the effort, because he always knows. And then he makes me tell him what’s up, and then he tries to fix it. I also love how I can read him, and how I can make him feel better. I love how I want to make him feel better and be happy. I love how being with him makes me so much more thoughtful than I have ever been. I am always always thinking of things I can do for him.
  • I love that he is a generally happy person. I don't have to constantly build him up, or remind him how great he is, his self esteem is just fine, but he isn't a douche or a jerk about it, and he's not prideful. He's just happy and contented. He's not high-maintenance, but I still want to spend tons of time with him.
  • He is constantly concerned for my well-being. He is a gentleman, and he would never do anything disrespectful to me. He always wants to make sure I am comfortable. One time, we were driving, and I noticed he was getting hot. I was still cold, but I turned the air to cool because I knew he would like it. If he were any less observant, he would have had no idea. If he didn’t care, he would have just left it alone. But he looked over and said “Are you cold?” “…Yes” He turned it all the way to heat. “No!” I said, turning it back, “You’re hot!” “You’re cold!” he said, firmly turning it back to heat. I can often see his thought process as he checks to make sure I have enough blanket or I am in a comfortable position or I’m feeling happy. It’s times like that, when he does something like tucks the blanket around me better, without me even commenting or even noticing, that make me think he would be the best husband ever. He always asks if I’m comfortable, not just physically, but in other aspects of our relationship as well. He gets so upset when I’m uncomfortable, especially when it’s his fault, because he never wants me to feel that way.
  • I trust him. This is another thing my dad has always said is important. I believe everything he tells me. He never tries to deceive me or keep secrets from me. In fact, even when he does try to not tell me something (nothing bad), he gives in and tells me almost immediately. He wants to be honest with me. And I want to be honest with him. More than anything. I also know for a fact he would never hit me or abuse me in any way. I also know he would never cheat on me. I think some people reading this will say to themselves, you can’t really know that Kelly. But it’s because I know his character. And his character is not the cheatin’ kind. You still might say I can’t know that, but you’re wrong. I would also like to throw out there that I have really good intuition. I always have. I know I can put on a killer dumb blonde act, but I bet I’m way smarter than most of you think. And one thing I’m really smart about is judging people’s characters.
  • We have really great communication. I can talk to him about anything. Sometimes, I want to tell him something, and I think for a split second, “Wait! I can’t tell him that! It’s about him!” But it doesn’t matter. Because I can tell him anything. So I do. I tell him everything. And he tells me everything. I think he knows me better than anyone, except maybe Heather. In some ways he does, and in some ways she does. I never feel like there’s something I can’t tell him, because he is my best friend. He really, truly is.
  • He gives me lots of attention. Superficial? Maybe. Important? Oh yes! If he didn’t, I couldn’t date him. I need attention. Not only does he give me attention, it is positive attention, which is even more important.
  • He is smart. He used to tell me that he thinks I'm so much smarter than he is, which, in some book smarts, I am, but he's not bad at book smarts at all (I was so impressed when he got the highest grade in his math class, and like a 98% in his psychology class). He is so incredibly insightful, though. He is very good with explaining himself, and his point of view about things, and he always makes good, valid points. I am always amazed by what he can get out of things. He also has a plan, and knows what he wants to do with his life (piloting). He has a back up plan as well (computer programming), and even a supplementary plan (real estate). He is smart with his money, has incredibly good credit, and he knows how he would be able to support a family. He also loves children, and is good with them. I love watching him with kids.
  • He loves me. And he makes me happy. He’s always trying to do more things to make me happy. He thinks I’m funny and beautiful and smart and fun and good. He loves me just the way I am.
I’m sure there are other important things I should have said, but I think this will do for now. The point is, Dahl isn’t the man of my dreams that I imagined when I was a little girl; he’s better. So much better. He has become the man of my dreams.

Sleepy Dahl

Last night I came home late. Like, really late. And I saw the light still on in the room Heather and I share. I was surprised, and thought maybe she had left it on accidently, but there she was sitting on her bed, writing. She said she was writing down all of her feelings. So then we talked until like 8 in the morning. I am on a super weird sleep schedule. Yesterday, I took a 5 hour nap, so, although I was tired, I wasn’t that tired; I’d slept 3-8, woken up, read MormonBachelorPad, gone to ward prayer, waffle night, and Chantra’s sister’s house for cookies. Then I went to Dahl’s apartment and read more MBP. He fell asleep in my lap. I read and read and read. Then I decided to go home. (Poor boy, he is soo sleep deprived. And I didn’t pay that much attention to him, because I was so engrossed in my reading. I did play with his hair though, which should give me points.)

Usually when I want to go home, if Dahl is asleep, I just wake him up. I’ve told him he doesn’t have to walk me home (it is literally a 20 second walk) but he is adamant about it. One time we debated this. He was super tired, and I really didn’t mind walking myself home. Dahl’s tired modes are sometimes so cute. He can become the cuddliest boy in the world. I absolutely love it. I’m about to tell you an experience with one of his tired modes that was less so, but this one was adorable. He grabbed me in this big hug, kind of forcefully and said “I wanna make sure my girl gets home okay!” It was in this super determined all-I-wanna-do-is-protect-you voice, so I argued no longer. He really does want me to make sure he gets up so I am safe.

However wonderful his intentions are, this particular night I could not wake him up. I shook him. I said, “Dahl, I’m going home now!” I said, “Am I going home by myself, or are you walking me home?” I tried to move him to a more comfortable position on the couch, because since I was no longer his pillow I knew it was less comfortable, especially since his feet were hanging over the edge. He would not cooperate or help me at all, so I couldn’t move him. I said, “Okay, fine, give me a kiss goodbye then.” He wouldn’t. I said “Dahl, just give me a kiss goodnight!” He ignored me. I grabbed his face and tried to give him a kiss, and he just struggled away from me. I tried again. Same response. “Alright fine, you better hope the crazy man doesn’t rape me on my way home!” I said and left his apartment. (The crazy man I was referring to was the one who smashed that girl’s face with a rock at 3 in the afternoon on the trail that follows behind Raintree. He then took her behind a tree, raped her, and left her for dead, but she is fine now. Fine is a relative term, I suppose. But anyway, I just thought some people who aren’t in Provo would want an explanation. )

I actually thought it was pretty funny, because it was so unlike him, so I thoroughly enjoyed telling him the story this morning. Which leads to another story. This morning I woke up to go to work, and the first thing I worried about was if he was up getting ready to go to his work. I called him at 9:12. I texted him at 9:13. No response. I waited until 9:20. Then I got worried. I threw on some clothes and SPRINTED to his apartment. His car was still in front, so I knew he wasn’t there. He wasn’t on the couch, so he must’ve moved himself to his bed in the middle of the night. I ran straight to his room (sue me honor code police, I dare you!) I wasn’t sure if it was actually a person in the bed because all I saw was blanket. I yelled nonetheless. “Dahl! You’re gonna be late for work!” He emerged, standing up in a matter of seconds. “What time is it?!” “9:20!” I then stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do. “I have to get dressed!” he said, shooing me out of his room. Right. I sprinted back to my apartment, got dressed in real clothes, and ran for the bus. He called me on his drive to work and I told him about his strange behavior. He has no recollection of any of it, which I think is even funnier.

Wow, I’ve written a lot about not what I was going to write about, so I’m just gonna publish this and write a new one. Enjoy! (Both)

Friday, June 11, 2010

My Job!

This entry was supposed to be about my summer so far, but it took so long to talk about my job, I made it just about that. So here goes:

I work in the BYU Visual Arts Dept as a Student Accountant. In fact, that's where I am right this very second. It's a pretty sweet set up I think. The work is not too hard, except when the members of the faculty don’t do their jobs and turn in their receipts. Then I have to hound them, which is annoying, especially when they ignore me or make lame excuses, the most prevalent one being that they are out of town till the end of time.
My co-workers are chill and make me laugh.

Steve is my trainer guy. He and I are very different; we have different personalities, different tastes in music, and different views on pretty much everything. I am a girl and he is a boy. I have long blonde hair and he has short brown hair. He speaks Russian, I speak Spanish. He is tall and I am short. He likes zombies and I don’t. When we have free time at work (which is often), I am usually on Facebook, and he is usually playing a baseball game (on his computer). I like country and poppy songs and he likes "man rock" (his words). He falls down entire flights of stairs and I fall off of chairs. I love to sing and he hates it when I sing because he either doesn't know the song or doesn't like the song. BUT we are still good friends, I think. We get along well and he always makes me laugh, even when he's not trying to, like when he falls down entire flights of stairs because he was looking at a camera. Here are some things we have in common: We are both cool. That's about it. Back to just Steve, he also teaches me everything I need to know, and reminds me of these things about 10 times a day. He thinks he's the boss of me, but Sharon says he's not, so he's not. He's just in charge of me, as Garrett put it. Which is totally different. Also, he thinks Dahl's muscles are so big, they could rip a car in half. For some reason, I laughed super hard when he said that. I told Dahl, and he said only if I was under the car. :)

Dallas is the other guy who got the job at the same time as I did. He is married, and he has one
baby son. He should bring him in, because I would loooove it! He does more of the accounting than I do I think. I do more of the clerical work. He dresses up every day for work, and I do not, since there is no dress code. He is super professional. He’s really nice, and helps me scan things when I need his help. He’s only been in a bad mood once, and that was the day I got a concussion. So I don’t think he should do it again. He plays the zombie game on his computer a lot. He also goes to visit Layne with me sometimes. More on Layne in a second.

Garrett doesn't work in the same room as the rest of us. He is married too, and has a baby. His
wife is super cute. He shows me pictures of his family sometimes. He also showed us the YouTube videos that are our theme videos or
something. They were funny. I still say "It's not a persona. I dress like this all the time. It’s not a persona this is who I really am I dress like Kermit the Frog!" (Lady Gaga), usually to Dahl. He thinks it's weird. And it is. Garrett likes to eat my cereal, and he’s super nice to me too. He was one of the guys in my interview, and I think he sent me my offer letter. He’s kind of like Dallas's trainer. He just got back from Cancun. How unfair is that?? I share my lotion with him sometimes, too. When I first got here, I thought he was the most normal. I think I have good first impressions. Haha. But they are all awesome!

Then there are 2 secretaries,
Rinda and Becca. They sit in the front and they are both nice to me. I talk to Becca a little more, but I like them both.

Sharon and Sonya and Linda are the older people who work here. But they are still young! Sharon is so funny and nice. She grades our sneezes, and gives us candy. She hates it when people lick envelopes. Sonya is in charge of the models, and she gave us cherries last week. Linda seems to not be here as much as the other two, but she’s nice, too. She gave us Indian food yesterday.

*Note: I have seen a trend where I say the food people give me and say they are nice. Although these events do demonstrate their niceness, I would think they were nice even if they didn't feed me anything!*

Layne doesn't work here, but he does work closely with us. When I go to talk to Layne, I need to set out about an hour, because he loooves to talk! I think I would make people stay to talk to me, too, if I worked in his office, because he is all alone, and even if I don't talk to Dallas and Steve all the time, I do enjoy their company, and I would be terribly lonely without them. As a result, he has told me all about his family and all of their issues, and I've learned about both of his marriages, and every kid individually. I don't mind, though. I think he has a lot of interesting things to say, even if I do wish he would speed up his speech. It's kinda funny, because I feel like I reverse roles when I go visit him; usually I am the loud one, and I talk a lot, but when I go see him, all I do is shut up and listen. I think it’s probably good for me.

Some random facts about me in this office:

  • I HATE answering the phone. It's annoying. I just think everyone should email me. So I avoid it as much as possible. Garrett said I could.
  • I tell Steve and Dallas everything about what I’m doing. I don't know nearly as much about their lives as they know about mine, I'm pretty sure. I think they’re okay with that.
  • I do a lot of side projects here. I applied for a Passport (well the online app), made a collage of me and Dahl, wrote a poem for Dahl, wrote missionary letters, wrote Sarah a card, and I Facebook and G-chat very often.
  • We don't have a manager because the last one got in trouble. I'm scared to get a manager, because what if they don't like my side projects? Or what if they're lame? I think we're fine without one. I don't even know what they would do. But everyone else knows best, and I'm sure our new manager will be great!

Alright. That's it I think! I kind of love my little job :)!

Thursday, June 10, 2010


Soo this past Monday I got a concussion. It was really weird, because I am SUPER healthy. Like, I have never had anything like that happen to me in my life. I guess I have twisted my ankles and fractured my wrist from ice skating on the kitchen floor in my socks, but those were in my childhood; I don't even remember how old I was. A concussion seems so much more serious... Anyway, this blog entry is considerably less happy than most, but it’s still a good story I think, so read on if you don’t mind hearing about me getting emotional and dramatic (sorry, I’m usually way more happy-go-lucky than this, trust me).

Here is the story:

Monday's are never the best days of the week, and I'm not even a Monday-hater. However, this particular Monday I was feeling very stressed. Work was not the happiest place (PS- usually, it is, I really do need to write a whole entry about it), I felt like EVERYONE was in a bad mood, including me. I had just started my period (if you don't wanna hear about it, don't read my blog), and I knew Heather was coming back the next day. That meant I had a lot of cleaning and preparing to do. This preparation was not just physical, it was mental and emotional as well, because I was worried about how she and Dahl would get along. This particular dilemma had had me worried to the point of it being unhealthy, I think. I am seriously one of the happiest most content people on the planet, but I had been crying far too often, especially for me. Although it had never been huge sobbing fits, I had managed to tear up each day for the past week which is just not normal, for anyone who knows me, which you probably do if you’re reading this blog. This is not to say I was completely unhappy, I was happy when I forgot about the issue, but it was always somewhere in the back of my mind. All of this emotion must have exploded on this particular day, because I allowed myself to have a full-on breakdown in Dahl's car. Poor Dahl, he was dealing with me so nicely, just telling me it would be okay and in general being consoling, but I refused to be comforted for some time. Finally, I pulled myself together after we got drinks (Sobe and Mountain Dew) and we separated so we could change clothes, I think (I don't really remember). The plan was we would meet back at my apartment, make corn on the cob, and clean for Heather's arrival. We were also supposed to set up my iPod. However, none of these things actually happened. And this is why:

I remember reading somewhere that sometimes people added sugar to the water they were boiling their corn in so it would be sweeter. I thought it would be very clever of me to add a little bit without Dahl knowing, and then see if he noticed or liked it or whatever. The sugar was on the very top shelf of the pantry, so even if I stood on a chair I still had to reach up high to get it. So, I got out my little chair and I don't remember anything except hitting my elbow really hard. So that made me dizzy and lightheaded which is normal, except for the next thing I knew I was on the ground crying and I heard my roomie, Malorie, coming in. The first emotion I remember was embarrassment; I vaguely recall not wanting her to hear me crying because I hardly even know her
, and so I stopped and tried to pick up the sugar and act like I was okay. When she came in and asked if I was alright, I kept saying I was fine and apologizing. She thought I was acting almost like I was drunk (she knew I wasn't because she knows me) but I was just super confused and I kept saying that I wanted to go to sleep (I don't remember saying that). She ended up leaving and going back to her room.

Left alone, I sat down on the couch and began to examine myself. I started to panic as I found more and more injuries on my body: I had a big bruise on my left knee, my right hand was swollen, my left elbow was scraped and bruised, the left side of my jaw hurt, my left ear was bruised as well as my left shoulder, and some of my left side was sore as well. On top of all of that, I was very disoriented and nauseated, and my head was pounding. I suddenly needed Dahl to be there RIGHT THEN, because I knew something was very wrong and I needed someone to take care of me. I called him and asked when he was coming over. He replied that he would be back in 15 minutes (he was actually about to get in his car to get me flowers, cute boy). I didn't think I could wait that long all alone, as my fears were becoming more and more pressing, so I told him what was wrong: "I think I fell..." I dropped off because I had nothing more to say. "What?!" he asked, alarmed. "I don't remember..." I replied, my voice cracking, and my complete state of confusion becoming more apparent by the second. "I'll be right over."

When he got there, I lost all my control once again and started BAWLING, incoherently telling him how I didn't remember what happened and how I was scared and confused and I thought I fell and I don't know what was wrong with me. So then he had me call my dad so we could get insurance information to go to the hospital, and he went to talk to Malorie. She said she had heard me fall when she was in the shower, but didn't think much of it because it could have been anything. She finished her shower and put on clothes and heard me crying about 10 minutes later, so I must have been out for about 10 minutes before she came and found me.

Dahl took me to the Provo Hospital, and I got a CAT SCAN, an EKG, and some blood work done. The doctor said that he couldn’t find anything wrong with me, so they sent me home with a prescription that we picked up on the way. (Weird, the doctor was my old Bishop… small world, huh?) They recommended bed rest, and the information sheet I got said that it was normal to sleep for up to 15 hours a day after a concussion. They said someone should watch me for the next 24 hours.

Dahl tried to find someone to help him give me a blessing, and finally Kevin answered his phone. He anointed and Dahl sealed, and said I would have a speedy recovery. He also blessed me that I would be comforted and my relationships would continue to grow, and he especially blessed me that I would have a good relationship with my sister, which made me happy.

I stayed home sleeping and such for the next 2 days, especially the day immediately following, because my head hurt sooo badly, and all I wanted to do was sleep. I did go with Heather to see Diary of a Wimpy Kid in the dollar theater that night, however. It was super funny, which was great except every time I laughed too hard my head hurt again. Haha. But it was worth it! Yesterday I ventured out to the pool to relax outside which was nice as well. I also visited Greg’s farm with Dahl to double with him and Mel. I met a baby horse-pony mix that was born this morning, and I watched them tackle calves and brand them. If they were bulls, I watched them put a rubber band around their balls so the circulation would get cut off and they would eventually fall off. This makes their meat more tender. Crazy, huh? They did not seem very happy! We also had a BBQ and watched Ace Ventura. We were supposed to go shooting and 4 wheeling but changed plans because of my head.

This is Thursday, the third day after my accident, and I’m at work now as I’m writing this. It's getting a lot better! My head still hurts pretty consistently, but it’s less of a pounding pain which is good. Hopefully it goes away completely soon J

Anyway, I’m really grateful everything worked out the way it did, and that I am safe and healthy!

PS- The beginning of this post may seem slightly irrelevant, but I think it is very relevant because I feel like my emotional state had something to do with the whole thing. If I wasn't so emotionally drained, I wouldn't have been so physically exhausted, and I might have been more able to stay conscious. I mean, I've hit my elbow and gotten dizzy many times, but I've never blacked out. I was never standing on a chair either... but the point is, I think all of these things played a part in the whole accident.