Mini-me x 2

Gotta love this kid. Apparently she's been repeating a lot of things I say to her... in conversation form, but only with herself. For example:

"What do big kids do? Go pee in the potty! That's right!"
"This is hard. I'm doing great!"

Thankfully, besides picking up an optimistic and encouraging response habit (who knew?) Edyn also picked up other things I say a million, billion times... like the numbers 1-10 in order, as well as the alphabet in song form and the names and sounds of numerous animals. "What does a cow say? Mooooooo!"



Also, Coda has gotten better and better at mimmicking. If you say "yay!" she'll start clapping and offer up a very unenthusiastic sounding "yay" but it totally sounds like the real thing! If you whisper "dah-dah-dah" to her she'll usually whisper it back, too. Oh, and she loves having wailing/grunting/high-pitched-squealing conversations where you make a noise and she makes it back. Over and over and over. Love it. :)

An elephant may never forget...

but apparently whales forget. It has been brought to my attention more times than I'd care to admit that I forget to smile. And enjoy life in general, actually. The other day I caught myself opening a Dove heart, popping it into my mouth, chewing it, AND throwing the wrapper away without reading the saying on the inside! None of it was deliberate... it was all completed in a most zombie-like fashion. I hope I don't get taken to girl-jail for it... but seriously. When did I forget how to slow down and really experience what I'm experiencing?

We had a ward activity a couple weeks ago and a guy there mentioned to me that I never smile, and always look stressed out. Gee, thanks. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Couldn't you just try to make me smile instead? Or have you ever wondered if maybe I don't smile when I'm around you because... well... I'm around you? But it's not just that guy. Alta told me the other day that I look like an old lady. There's even this other guy that has, for months, made comments about how it always looks like I'm thinking about something or am distracted, and has on several different occasions said "That's the biggest I've seen you smile today." Uh... thanks for that?

It took me a while to admit to myself that these reactions to my existence are not unwarranted. In general I feel more stressed and stretched out than I ever remember feeling while I was in school. At school there was always at least one good reason to get out of bed... one good thing to look forward to that day... one thing or person that always seemed to cancel out the other drudgeries the day held. These days I feel like I have to literally drag myself everywhere I go, and once I get there I have to focus on "having fun" (or pretending to) or I don't. There's nothing to look forward to because tomorrow is the exact same thing over again.

I count down the hours I have left to work before my last student loan is paid off... before my car is paid off... before I can finally start keeping the money I earn... before I can quit my jobs and move on to something new.

I hate counting months and weeks and days and hours. Especially when the numbers only seem to get bigger when they should be getting smaller... I even count the minutes of sleep I miss for every minute I stay up later than I "should." I can't remember the last time I stayed up recklessly late, let alone without meaning to or caring that I did.

I've noticed lately a recurring theme of "enduring to the end," or "taking things one day at a time." I tagged along with the missionaries to a new member lesson, where they counseled that worrying about everything that's happened and everything that's going to happen is overwhelming, so to simplify things it's better to live in the moment. Live one day at a time, and focus on what you're doing today--right now. Have you met your goals today? Nevermind what you have to do tomorrow or what mistake you made yesterday... what about today??

I need to work on that. I saw my profile picture for Blogger and wondered where that youthful, happy person went, because I haven't seen her in a long time. And I never thought I'd say it... but I miss her. This new me basically sucks.

filling holes

It was an ordinary day-- nothing too special. I woke up at the same time I get up every morning. I got ready for work, went to work and had an awesome day. Driving home from work, though, I was randomly hit with a powerful realization... I miss having friends.

(It's no mystery whether I've missed my friends since graduation-- how could I not? I have the best friends on the planet. However, I can also survive for long periods of time with, well, absolutely no social life. I suppose it's thanks to some defense mechanism I developed after 6 socially traumatizing years of junior high and high school. I think I got spoiled at college with all my great friends and acquaintances. They overflowed my social quota so much that the supply has only barely begun to run out. But let's get back to my story.)

The next day the ward was going to a corn maze in a neighboring town. I'd told a girl from the ward (we'll call her "Iffer") that I would go with her since I bailed on Tiffani and Suzuki last week. I thought to myself: "Alright-- it's time. Time to make some friends."

It was an enjoyable evening, despite the fact that I was taller than the corn, spent a good portion of my time in the maze wandering by myself and got the crap scared out of me by some guy from the ward who was trying to make the activity more exciting. (I punched him, by the way. Regrettably, it was not in the face. I've always wanted to punch someone out of self-defense or as an uncontrollable reflex. But only if they deserve it, of course.)

I was one of the drivers and all the girls in my car were pretty ok. Except that when everyone was preparing to leave the maze one of the guys came up to our group and asked if we wanted to hit up this tasty taco place in El Paso with him and his friends. I looked to my group. They looked at each other or off into space, all with equally unreadable faces. "Well, ladies?" I asked. One of the questionable girls looked at me and said "I'm actually up for going home." Hm, I thought. That's no way to make friends. The same girl readily consented to ice cream and a movie on our way home. Interesting.

So we got some ice cream, dropped off one girl and met up with another to eat the ice cream and watch a movie at my house. It was a fun night, and I went to bed hopeful that I am capable of making new friends and, especially, that I have a desire to do so. Wanting new friends has been a problem for me since I've lived here. I have limited time and energy, so why would I want to add a list of friends to my schedule when I'm fine as is? But after a fun night with these kids, my attitude seemed to be turning around.

Until last night.

I went to a pumpkin carving night at Iffer's house. I felt bad that only four people, including myself, went. Especially because she told me she'd invited 20. But who could possibly be a better sympathizer than me? After the experience I've gained inviting hundreds of people to many a movie night/other activity, I've learned never to plan for more than a third of the people invited. Anyway.

At this pumpkin carving night there were two pumpkins... mine and Iffer's. She gave hers to the two lazy boys that came pumpkinless, and one of them carved while the other guy and a random girl that came watched. After only a few minutes they were all in the living room, watching a football game and I was left in the kitchen, carving my pumpkin alone. I abandoned it early since it was failing and I felt I should join the others. For an hour and a half I suffered through boring conversation revolving around sports, racial jokes, incapable young adults and tragic accidents. I planned to leave for about forty minutes before I actually found the courage to do so. After a few lines when I first sat down I hadn't spoken at all. How awkward, then, to get up and leave such a small group. That I hadn't even been talking with. That I'd only been with for an hour. Especially since no one had texted or called me or anything. And it was a weekend. Oh whale! I couldn't take it anymore.

As I was leaving I realized what I'd learned that night: it's hard to make friends you really like. It takes time, patience, and a lot of boring conversation to weed through the nobodies to the people you'd really like to hang around. It made me appreciate the good friends that I do have. If you're reading this post, you're one of them. I just want to give a shout out to you, because I love you and think you're terrific. And you've left a pretty huge hole in my life that all these lesser-humans are going to have a hard time filling. :) Call me, ehkay?

Wednesdays my one roommate

gets done with school at one. A couple of our other roommates went with me to pick her up today. She was chatting with a couple girls from her class and we pulled up some chairs. I commented one of her friends on her t-shirt, which had a cool Halloween design. The other friend stood up in order to better showcase her own Halloween shirt. "And I have Halloween underwear too!" Settle. This is not a contest.

Furia de la Noche

It was after midnight, and we were walking out of the state fair/carnival. There were only thirty or so scattered cars left in the large parking lot, and I had parked on the far side. As we walked to my car, Tiffani was impressed with how it blended into the night and proclaimed "You should name it Hiccup!"
"Uh, Tiffani? Hiccup was the viking. The dragon was named Toothless. And I am NOT naming my car 'Toothless.'"
"Oh."
"However, 'Night Fury' would be ok... I wonder how you say 'fury' in Spanish..."

Turns out it's "Furia." So, "Furia de la Noche." I think I might stick to "Night Fury" or find a nickname based off that. If you have any suggestions, feel free to suggest them.A little about "Night Fury" though:
It's a black (obviously) 2009 Nissan Versa with white racing stripes.
It came with alloy wheels and an aftermarket stereo (I'll be getting a sub woofer at some point in the future, I'm sure...).
It's manual, and has been averaging 35mpg city. I haven't done any road trips yet, but I'm guessing it'll get about 40mpg freeway.
It's short and squatty (like me!).
I love it.

Oh whale!

Even though the "berth" of Oh whale! just kind of happened... it has become a phrase dear to my heart. If you find yourself doing or saying something stupid, just try shrugging and saying "Oh whale!" in that special way Crystal says it. In 90.2% of situations it will relieve anxiety, improve mood and accelerate your journey back onto the path of happiness.
Because, really. What's done is done and you can't change that. Why dwell on it? In the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big of a deal in the first place.

Betrayed by my own.

What Not to Wear is back and better than ever! Stacy and Clinton have seen it all... or have they? Send us your craziest, wildest, most bizarre nominations for the worst-dressed woman you know.

Nomination: Nicole Hengen
   Age: 23
   Size: [extra-super large], 5'5"
   Location: Las Cruces, New Mexico

   Nikki has always dressed like a boy; her hair is always up in a ponytail while she is dressed in a t-shirt and shorts (usually camo cargo shorts). She tries her best to dress up on Sundays for church and she will wear her hair down, but she doesn't really know how to put together an outfit, despite family and friends shopping with her and picking out nice clothes for her. They tend to just hang in the closet. She doesn't wear much makeup, usually just some eyeliner and mascara. I think she's afraid to dress girlie because she wants to be taken seriously but feels like if she dresses too feminine, she'll be seen as an airhead or promiscuous.

[Notes scribbled onto the printout, apparently intended to be added on later to increase the appearance of desperation] Doesn't relate to most girls her age, doesn't really like them--afraid if she dresses like them, she'll be like them. Being single at 24 (relatively old in the Mormon community). Feels hopeless in a dating scene (not that there's much out here). We've tried everything-- ripped up camo shorts, gathered t-shirts for a t-shirt quilt. Needs professional help-- this is her last resort. Maybe hearing it from someone else will help.