Welcome to the land of a/c and bonfires.

Today I rolled the windows down because I was a little too toasty for comfort. Do you know what this means, my friends? Spring swiftly approaches.

My ladies are in the Big City without me this week, and I'm kind of heart broken. I was going to be the best room mom on the Earth.

Asian food is exceptional, I decided. Especially at this little place called Shoots in the Riverwoods of P-town. A group of us Pack and Shippers celebrated my Beyoncé buddy's birthday with Asian delicacies and flirtation and dares that have to do with fire. These are more than co-workers, though. I'm proud to announce that they're my friends!! The frumpgirl has friends!!!

Unicorn shmoonicorn. I'm content with myself right now.

Being a perfectionist has burned me out, I believe. Which is a real big bummer because I miss being able to seamlessly do well in school. Now I cannot for the life of me find motivation in schooling. Advice is welcomed.

"I don't ever wanna say goodbye
I just wanna steal this moment right away from time."

P.s. No jokes, I was nearly crushed by an elevator door today. Mini heart-attack? Yes.

Thank you for that.

There is something so peculiar and intriguing about you. I can't quite put my finger on it, but every time you open your mouth, I'm at a loss of words. You fascinate and inspire me. Thank you for that.

"Say the word and I'm already there"

Thank you for your amazing masterpieces. I've never admitted to anyone (until last night) how much I am captivated by your work. I lose myself in it. And I find myself, too. You taught me to do that. You also taught me it's ok to be vulnerable at this part and this part, but at this part you need to protect your heart for a split second. You taught me the difference between an admiration of a dashing prince and an endless love for a real-life human being. Thank you for sharing your heart with me through music and dancing and theater. Thank you for teaching me how to break down any and every barrier and to give my whole imperfect soul to the viewers. You opened my eyes to new dimensions of story-telling and new depths of emotion. You've made me the dancer I am today.

The curious part is you'll probably never even know that you made such an impact on my life.

New journals and other real life news

Guess what, friends?

Homegirl is out of her boot!!!! Halle-freaking-lujah. Now it's up to a trusty little ankle brace that has complex straps and likes to suffocate my foot to protect my scar. Which by the way, I can't wait to show that little sucker off this summer.

Oh, summer. Even thinking about it makes my skin tingle with the soft, radiating warmth of a sunny day at the pool. I'm in love with summer. I will, however, never be able to top last summer's joys and adventures. That was totally epic and ideal in every sense. Starting with the night of Cavestock to the very last night of September. Easily the best summer of my life, bar none.

Sorry. I got pulled into a reminiscent trance. Where was I?

Oh yeah, other good newses. Which is not a word. Don't worry about it. Walking in two shoes is actually really weird, and I've never noticed how much effort it subconsciously takes (except it is very much a conscious effort for me). It frustrates me to the moon that I can't walk quickly like I used to. I assumed I would just be out of the boot and perfectly normal again, but that is FAR from the case. Reality tells me, "Um think again, Frumpy. You will now have to stroll at a pace just slow enough to attract attention and concerned looks. Gotcha." Thanks, Reality, but can I at least wear sweats today? "Sure, you couldn't look much frumpier anyway." Gee thanks, Reality.

I got the most adorable journal today. It has L'arc de Triomphe on it and kind of looks like a passport. Thank you, BYU Bookstore and my employee discount. I can't wait to pour out the deepest desires of my heart that no one else should read into its pages.

I got some new envelopes today, too. Can't wait to fill them with letters upon over the next two-or-so years. I'm really great at pen pal-ing, just in case you were interested. And I have really neat stamps. So if that isn't convincing enough, I don't know what is.

"If your sky is falling just take my hand and hold it."

Invisible ink

How silly of me. Here I've been mentioning giving away marbles, and I didn't even post an explanation of my theory about them! This was supposed to be posted before I got my cast off. Which was awhile ago. Anyway, hopefully this will shed some light if you were confused about this post.

"These days
Everything is all about different.
Different shoes, different hair,
Different opinions.

But what is so great about having to be different?

I have to wear a purple cast
Much larger than the normal kind.
I have to hobble with two sticks called crutches, but I can't even hobble straight.
I run into walls and feel myself falling uncontrollably.
People look at me funny. But why?
Aren't I different? Isn't different good?

Oh. So I'm a different kind of different. But shouldn't my different be different from your different? If I was your kind of different, it would take away your differentness. Instead, it would create a sameness between us, wouldn't it?

So, in reality, everyone wants to be different, but we are all attempting the same kind of different.
Therefore

Aren't we all trying to be the same?

It's not that I want to be labeled as one who "follows the crowd," but I simply don't care for consciously trying to be the most unique person. I don't believe in hipster. I believe that the best way to develop yourself into your own unique is to look to others. People look to their friends and peers and subconsciously mimic some of their attributes. It's like trading marbles.

The Marble Theory:

Every human being starts life with one hundred marbles. No less, no more. As life experiences happen and as we cross paths with other homo sapiens, we trade marbles. So think of a close friend you had in high school. You probably traded about forty marbles with him/her. Those forty marbles plus the sixty of your original create a new you. Now let's say you dated a boy/girl and gave them fifty of your marble mixture. But it turns out that he/she only feels like giving you fifteen marbles {aka you've been friend-zoned}. You are left with a slight discrepancy. That small discrepancy causes more adjustments to who you are. At the end of your life, hopefully you've given all your marbles and received all new marbles. People are more colorful and brilliant when they've shared a little of their uniqueness with other unique souls.

You don't have to try to be different, but you don't necessarily have to try to be the same. Just be the you that comes naturally to you.

My different may be different from your different, but my marbles are freely given. I have become who I am because I am quick to love. Quick to trust others with my marbles. I have experienced many discrepancies, but that has merely made me who I am.

I am my own kind of me."

P.S. I'm absolutely heart broken about The Bachelor. But we'll wait to talk about it until I'm not in shock.

More Than Words

Have you ever held back words
because you were scared the other person would be put off by them? Even though you could clearly see that they think the same things as you do? Then why hold those words back?

Because you doubt yourself, that's why.

"It's like you embarrass yourself if you say something, and you embarrass yourself if you don't."

"Sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just, literally, twenty seconds of embarrassing bravery. And I promise you something great will come of it."

That four letter word that people either adore or despise.

'Tis the season, I guess.

Have you noticed, though? Either people are head over heels for the word or they can't stand the sound or even any of the colors that resemble it. What is this word?

FOOD.

Ok that wasn't as funny as it sounded in my head. Obviously the word of the week is Love.

I'm here to declare to my readers that there IS a middle ground on this circumstance. Because that is where I currently stand.

For eighteen and a half years, I've been Valentine-less. And in those eighteen and one half years, I can't ever recall wanting so desperately to be someone's "Valentine". {except maybe junior year of high school, but that was the year of my first real-life crush. And I'll tell you those feelings are LONG gone. Oh, high school.} ahem.... So along with my almost-nineteen-years of life, I've learned and observed many lessons about love and the opinions that coincide with it. Here is where I give my insights and hope you will comment on what love is to you.

Love is actually really hard for me to define. I know it's not tangible to your hands like chocolates and roses. It's not something you can taste or smell or see or feel or hear. And yet it is? But the love I'm trying to define is more complex. And yet more simple.

If you know me well, which all of you pretty much do, you know that I don't say the-three-word-phrase a lot (unless you're family). It is hard for me to let go of those words because once you let them go, they can never come back. I used to force them because it was "the thing to say," but it always felt awkward and...well... forced. I care very deeply about each of those people, but the three short words have a lot more weight and meaning when they come out of my mouth.
Hold up. Don't think I'm saying it means less coming from someone else than it does from me. I just mean that when I say it with complete honesty, I feel like that person has permission to take part of my soul to keep with them. Forever. And giving someone that many marbles ("I Love You" equates to at least twenty) seems a little scary sometimes.

Ohkay, so maybe this post is becoming way more ramble-y and awful than I imagined.

The bottom line is, if you're going to tell someone you love them, please mean it with all your heart. And don't go back on your word.

Love is pure and sincere.
Love is sacrifice.

The best V-tines surprises yet

I wish you were here today, so we could laugh about what just happened to me. And discuss other meaningless nuances of this day. I'm worried a bit that I haven't heard from you in so long. I trust you know what you're doing, and I'm trying to be that patient friend who isn't falling apart inside at your absence. Trying, but failing.

When this said occurrence happened about fifteen minutes ago, I immediately thought, "Oh man. I need to text ______." Naturally. But my following realization made this day a little bit harder.

"You know my paper heart,
The one I filled with pencil marks?
I think I might've gone and inked you in."

Newsflash at 9:45 PM

Vi broke. The saddest part is, I was too pleased to give her back because, quite honestly, she was possessed. I was frustrated. But now I'm beyond ecstatic about Vi's identical cousin that has never been used before.

Ohhhhh.... So that's how a gimp scooter is supposed to behave.

Still no name. Suggestions welcome.

P.s. I'm going through snail mail withdrawals. And I love SMASH and Katharine McPhee. Wait until you hear these lyrics.

The light was shed.

This post is the answer to a post that I didn't post. It was filled with all sorts of confusion and teenage angst that no one should have to endure reading, so I left it as a draft. Because sometimes even "those kind of days" are not meant to be publicly complained about.

There was even a really great quote I was going to remember about hard times in life. But I forgot to remember. It said something along the lines of: "it's better to be tested in life than to know you're not worth testing."

This has been an exhaustingly taxing week in my sophic-mantic department. This semester is one of trial and torture. There are so many misunderstandings in my brain that are dying to be clarified and justified and ratified. I could go on and on in a whiny fashion, but I'll skip to the important part:

With a simple hug and a "say your prayers," my mother made it completely all better.

Turn unto the Savior. He never ceases to comfort those who stand in need.

LOST: Eliza's Unicorn. Call if you have details.

Unicorn: n. A human being of the opposite gender who is sought after but seemingly unattainable.

I have a Unicorn. HAD a Unicorn. Everybody does. But what happens when the "Unicorn" no longer appears to exist as such? I mean, he still makes me nervous, and when I see him my heart skips a beat. But honestly, when I looked at him in that one instant, I knew he is no longer the Unicorn. Not for me. But if he isn't the Unicorn, who is it?? Am I in denial? Has my true Unicorn been stranded in the wilderness? I need help, people.

On the other hand, reunions are great. It feels oddly satisfying to know that you are missed. And not just missed by any Joe Insincere Shmoe, but people who actually consider me a friend. I am a self-proclaimed Invisible is what I'm getting at. Or HAD been a self-proclaimed Invisible, before now. Now I know that I belong here, and I know people, and those people actually care about me here. The looks on their faces when they see me walking {with crutches, but actually walking}, the cheers and hugs and support. The fact that I truly KNOW the majority of the people in this room. I feel loved. I have inside jokes here. I even have a winking buddy! Last night brought a new prospective to light, and it is the best I have felt in quite some time.

Also, today I landed on your initial while twisting my apple stem. I smiled a little too big for my own good, admittedly. Don't mind me being high on the excitement of life.

Things are looking up, friends.



"Nothing new just the same old same,
so I'mma start a new page"