Uggos, Crazies, and Bailers

I was watching the season finale of 30 Rock recently and Liz Lemon's boyfriend of the season, Criss (James Marsden, in the one role in which I don't find him completely annoying), said something that made me laugh and then made me think. He was explaining to Liz why he was stressed about their relationship, saying: 

“You know what kind of women in their 40s have never been married, Liz? Uggos, crazies, and bailers. You’re not an uggo. And you’re haha crazy, not oh boy crazy, which means you bail!”

While I'm not in my 40s (although you could argue that the pressure on an LDS woman who is single and in her 30s is roughly equivalent to an non-LDS woman in her 40s), the comment stuck with me. I'm aware enough to know I'm not a complete uggo, middle school pictures to the contrary, and I like to flatter myself that I am endearingly and amusingly crazy, not scary crazy. That leaves one choice: bailer. Once I started to think about it, it didn't see so far off the mark.

A brief and non-scientific analysis of my behavior would show that I am the first to leave any situation. If I'm in a conversation, 99% of the time, I'm the one to end it. In an sort of communication situation, I'm so worried about making a fool of myself, I get out early before I can embarrass myself. You can imagine how the stakes rise if I'm actually in a situation involving a guy in whom I might be interested. A ticking timer starts in my head the minute one of those conversations start. I can only imagine what kind of signal it sends to the guy I'm talking with (gentleman readers, if you exist, please chime in).

Additionally, if several of these conversations, with their abrupt endings, occur and nothing comes of it, I assume there is no interest. I bail on the possibility of something, which inevitably becomes self-fulfilling prophecy. And since I assume they are not interested, you can imagine how much shorter the conversations become and how much sooner I'm ready to pull the plug. Which does nothing to change the situation.

So, how do I change my behavior? That internal timer is so habitual I don't realize what is happening until the situation is over, til I sit back and realize I've done it again. Suggestions?

Five Years

I didn't want to get out of bed today. There are multiple reasons for this; I'm still not feeling 100% after having a death flu that turned into an ear infection. It is rainy and gray. I didn't want to go to work. Underlying all of this, however, is that it is the fifth anniversary of pretty much the worst day of my life.

Five years is a long time. The world has changed, there are lots of things that have no reference to my mother. I've cycled through a whole new wardrobe. I had to give away the suit I wore at her funeral because it was too big. She would be thrilled at how little of my wardrobe is still black. There's a whole crop of television addictions and fantasy boyfriends I never had a chance to tell her about. My life plans are radically altered. But there are some things that don't change. Hearing a James Taylor, Carole King, or Billy Joel song still makes me melancholy. I feel homesick when I see rose bushes. While it happens far less frequently now, I still reflexively think of calling her whenever really good or really bad things happen.

And that is the rub. All the things she hasn't been and won't be a part of is the hardest bit. The good things in life, the happy moments or great opportunities are always a little bittersweet because she isn't here to share them. The bad things, the sad moments, the unfortunate blind sides in life are all a little worse because she is no longer just a phone call away.

I remember shortly after my mother died, my aunt telling me "Welcome to the Dead Mom's Club. It sucks." And it does. That is really all there is to say about it when you lose your best friend and confidant. You make do, and you move forward. You try to refrain from wallowing, because she would be irate if she thought you missing life because of her. But it's never the same.

Things I Am Currently Obsessed With

I've been Debbie Downer on this blog a lot lately. Possibly because I'm one lost hour of sleep away from a nervous breakdown on most days. BUT I do have things (besides sleep) that keep me from that nervous breakdown which I thought I would tell everyone about. Because I can. And because it is abnormally slow at work today (knock on wood) and there isn't much I have to be doing right now. So, here are my random, yet happy-making, current obsessions.

• Ray LaMontagne - I love this man's voice. If you haven't heard him (which, hello, I'm always late to the music party, so you probably know him) I suggest you leave this page now and go listen to him on your choice of music providers. I find his voice extremely soothing; his is the go-to albums after a long day at work. Which means I listen to him pretty much every day. Songs I recommend: "Trouble," "Shelter," "Hold You in My Arms," "Hannah," "All the Wild Horses," "Let it Be Me," "You Are the Best Thing," and "Achin' All the Time." Just to start off with.

• Essie nail polish - I love the range of colors Essie has, specifically in the blue-green and red-orange spectrums. Also, the names are fun and the bottles are compact and aesthetically pleasing. The best part, however, is that the polish is thin and spreads really easily. It is not gloopy at all. Sure, it means an extra coat, but because it is thin and non-gloopy, it dries quickly. With a base coat and a top coat, my home-done pedicures last at least a week without touch-ups. A few touch-ups stretches that to two or three weeks. Which is fantastic, since I don't have time these days for doing weekly pedicures.

• Old Navy's plaid or gingham camp shirts - I apologize for sounding like a massive advertisement, however, I tried one of these on last week, loved it but put it back because I couldn't justify buying a shirt. Then I obsessed about it for a day or two and went back and bought one (the white with small red/blue/purple plaid). I received many compliments on it, plus it was just so comfortable. It was cut perfectly, with just a little nip at the waist to provide shape, but not too much so I felt like I should be wearing a corset with it. The bonus was I thought it was only a 3/4 length sleeve that had been rolled up, but it is long sleeve, which means it will be perfect for layering in the winter. So I went back and bought three more in different colors.

• Mystery novels set in Britain in the past - These are my brain-break books. When I need to check out, I will happily escape to the rarified (yet oddly dangerous) estates, manor houses, and small villages of England of the 1920s, 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s. Agatha Christie is obviously a fave, however, I also recommend the Lord Peter Whimsey series by Dorothy L. Sayers and the Flavia De Luce series by Alan Bradley. I recently found a new series, the Honourable Daisy Dalrymple series by Carola Dunn. I read the first book Thursday night and enjoyed it. Imagine Agatha Christie's Miss Marple as a young 25 year-old impoverished aristocrat (complete with tragic tale of a brother AND a true love killed in WWI) working as a society writer traveling amongst characters culled from P.G. Wodehouse and Dorothy L. Sayers novels. It makes me wish I were British and could say things like "topping," "spiffing," "old thing," and "cheerio."

• Beets, edamame, and chickpeas in salads - I'm semi-successfully trying to improve my eating habits, specifically eating more vegetables and less non-vegetables, especially meat. If I had the means I would spend every lunch hour eating from the salad bar at a local grocery, because they offer fantastic things like beets, edamame, and chickpeas that make a salad tasty make dressings unnecessary. I've had to use frozen and/or canned versions of them to make my own, as it is far, far cheaper. Plus, it adds some heft to the salad. Add some crushed walnuts or sunflower seeds and you have got yourself a delicious and filling salad.

• Costume jewelry, specifically huge cocktail rings - For some reason I enjoy wearing a massive ring. It gives me a sense of power for some reason. Try it - they are just fun, plus they are a trend right now so you can find them for under $10 in most clothing stores.

• Doctor Who t-shirts from teefury.com - Teefury offers t-shirts loaded with pop culture-y goodness with a large helping of geek. The catch of the website is you only have 24 hours to order, then they print and ship. I've missed some fun ones, which are saved as bittersweet reminders in the gallery, but I also have a growing collection that I rarely have the opportunity to wear. But who can turn down a $10 t-shirt?

• Finding surprises for my nieces and soon-to-be-born nephew - I love being able to spoil them and since their birthdays (and births) are all happening in the next few months, I get to spoil them rotten! Also, how can I resist buying superhero onesies when I find them at Old Navy? Start the geekifying young!

• Adding the color orange to my wardrobe - After years (possibly decades? Am I really that old?) of dying my hair a dark auburn, I let it go back to something resembling my natural color. I think. It has been a while. Anyway, now that my hair is not auburn, I have found I can actually wear colors in the red-orange/orange/coral family. Which is fabulous. I love the color, especially paired with turquoise or green-blue. I have been adding quite a bit of it to my wardrobe recently. Dresses, shirts, tanks, anything really. I'm now on the hunt for orange shoes because I want to recreate this look Obviously also in the hunt for a similar dress, but that really has nothing to do with anything.

• Tall, skinny, British men who act - This isn't necessarily a new obsession (see: Tenant, David and  Grant, Cary) but I've found some new ones to obsess over. Also, it isn't necessarily the fact they are actors that is part of the obsession, but they are the only tall, skinny British men to whom I am exposed, seeing as how I still haven't found a way to move to England. The latest additions to this sub-genre of the Fantasy Boyfriend League are Benedict Cumberbatch (who has, perhaps, the best English name ever!) and Tom Hiddleston. Benedict Cumberbatch is best known for being Sherlock Holmes in the BBC series. Also, he has a dreamy voice. IF you don't believe me, listen to this. Mr. Cumberbatch will next be heard as the voice of Smaug in The Hobbit in December and the villain in Star Trek next summer. Tom Hiddleston is best known for his role as Loki in last year's Thor and the record-breaking blockbuster that is The Avengers. He also played F. Scott Fitzgerald in Midnight in Paris (which you need to see if you haven't already - the movie is genius.) Mr. Hiddleston is currently working on adaptations of Henry IV (parts 1 and 2) and Henry V, which should be on British TV for the build up to 450th anniversary of Shakespeare's birth in 2014. Hopefully it will cross the pond shortly thereafter. He will also be part of Thor 2, which was announced recently. I can understand that if you are not attracted by men who are slightly (or more-than-slightly) unhinged and your only exposure to him is as Loki, you might not get my new obsession with Mr. Hiddleston. To which I say, do a Google image search of recent photo shoots and photo calls for The Avengers. You can thank me later.

Gratitude and Eternity

I will be the first to admit that I resemble Veruca Salt in far more ways that I would like. I often forget to be grateful. I focus on what I don't have and not what I do have. I often get so focused on not having the job I want now that I forget how blessed I am to be employed at all, and to be able to mostly support myself on the wages from that job. I also have the opportunity to occasionally substitute at a middle school, which is great. But I focus on what I don't have that I want.

Lately, I've had trouble of a different sort. I've started not to be able to celebrate others' successes. I see people moving forward in their lives through a myriad of ways like career advancement, marriage, having children, buying houses, etc. and it is getting increasingly difficult to wish them well in their happiness. Some of it is the envy that Elder Jeffrey R. Holland spoke of in his talk in General Conference this month. Some of it is simply feeling left behind. It has been fifteen years since I graduated from high school, ten since I graduated from BYU. I've watched successive generations of friends move on with their lives that I still haven't. They have careers, families, foundations. I'm still working dead-end jobs that have nothing to do with my degrees, single, and nomadic as ever. I've learned that my friends' successes, while amazing for them, mean a separation for me. Our friendships don't end, but they move on, move forward, move away, move into demanding spheres of responsibility that have less room for me. Our lives simply don't overlap as much. And while their moving forward brings them into contact with a widening social circle, mine seems to shrink and require me to go out and work to build new friendships. None of this is bad, but it is difficult and somewhat lonely. I'm not an extremely social person by nature, so I find the work it takes to build new relationships rather exhausting and not a little unfair.

This is where my Veruca Salt-ness directly confronts my faith. Do I believe in the blessings of eternal life? Most definitely. I'm grateful for it everyday. I'm grateful for it every time I think of my mother, every time I wish I could her on the phone, every time I think of my grandparents and aunts and uncles who are no longer with us. I'm grateful when I think of my brother, when I see my niece's disappearing scar from open heart surgery, when I think of my nephew who will be joining our family this summer. That is not in question. Rather, do I have the faith to endure if all the blessings I want in my life don't come until eternity? I was reading in Isaiah today during the Sacrament and came across this verse in chapter 51:

 3 For the Lord shall comfort Zion: he will comfort all her waste places; and he will make her wilderness like Eden, and her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness shall be found therein, thanksgiving, and the voice of melody.

These words are full of comfort to those in midst of figurative and literal waste places, wildernesses, and deserts. They are to inspire hope. As I pondered them, my Veruca Salt-ness came raging back, asking if I was prepared to wander in those waste places, wildernesses or deserts if the blessings I want don't come til eternity. I want to say yes. I want to conquer my inner Veruca. I want to be grateful for everything in my life, not just focused on what I don't have. Yet there are days when I can't help but envision a future of watching my friends and loved ones move forward and, often, away while I am consigned to watch like a starving Dickensian orphan peering through a window at a Christmas feast. And that just seems impossibly hard. 

I No Longer Feel Like Hibernating All Day, Every Day.

Spring has sprung, sort of, in Bellingham. The sun actually shone for 3 whole days in a row, which feels like nirvana after never-ending months of rain and unseasonable cold. That is one excuse for not blogging, as nothing was happening AT ALL, because I was either grudgingly at work or curled up under a blanket. Although I had lots of pertinent half-thoughts and suppositions that could have been turned into a thoughtful blog if I had taken any time to write them down. My second excuse is that I've been busy. I've been juggling working at the property management company and substitute teaching, sometimes both in one day, and by the time those days are over, I am brain dead or punch drunk, neither of which are particularly useful for blogging.

The state of non-blogging would continue if it weren't for a promise I made to myself (and requests by supportive people in my life) to post some pictures. See, a little over a year ago I was facing the prospect of having buy new clothes in a larger size, which is the worst possible reason ever to have to go shopping. Also, people were posting pictures and tagging me on Facebook and I hated every single one and only my pride at not being vain (yeah, I know it makes little sense, but stick with me) kept me from untagging myself in them. The pièce de résistance of this unholy collection was this:

This is not a flattering picture. I think if Angelina Jolie were slouched like that it would not be a flattering picture for her, and she has the same girth as a young birch tree. However, it wasn't the only picture taken from the summer of 2010 that told me there was a problem. Here I am at my brother's graduation from UW that same year:

Something had to be done. It didn't happen until I finished my student teaching and felt I actually had time and energy to do something. So, March 2011, I joined Weight Watchers. And miraculously, I stuck with it. The first 30lbs dropped off in five months, but I decided I wasn't going to celebrate it in any public way or write about it until I had dropped 40lbs. Which took the next seven-and-a-half months. But, yesterday, I finally managed to lose 40lbs. Here is me today, in my new Easter dress (which is actually coral, not pink, despite what it may look like in the picture, lest you think I've lost my mind and embraced pink as a thing).

I still have a ways to go, but I feel like I've accomplished something. I'm happier and healthier and, oddly, less concerned with how I look and what people think of me. The most unexpected part is how much more spiritually healthy I feel. I hear those horrible voices in my head that question my worth a lot less. Not because I am a smaller size, but because I have accomplished something through hard work, because I'm taking care of and loving my body, not hating it. 

As I sat in church today, listening to and pondering Easter messages and teaching my eight and nine year-olds in Primary about the resurrection of Jesus Christ, it struck me how integral our physical bodies are to our spiritual well-being. As a woman who spent the better part of the last 20 years both obsessed with fashion magazines and struggling with weight issues, I became increasingly disassociated from my body. It was something I didn't want to deal with or think about but spent quite a bit of mental and emotional energy doing both. The mindset I was stuck in kept me from moving forward and weighed me down. As I've become physically lighter, I've also become mentally, emotionally, and spiritually lighter. As I shed pounds, I also started to shed other unhealthy things in my life that had no relation to my weight. And isn't that what Easter is about; the opportunity to shed the unhealthy, the bad, the sinful, the dark, the sorrowful, and the failings and frailties of human nature and through the Atonement of Jesus Christ become better than we were and be perfected in Him. It is the opportunity to become lighter and lighter until we are filled with light. I hope we all take the opportunity to shed something that is dragging us down and to move forward lighter and brighter than we were before.