Never gonna give you up

With the news that Prince William and Kate Middleton are finally engaged, many women around my age are joking that their teenage dreams (or even grown-up) dreams of being the next English princess are now crushed.

As for me, I never really had a thing for Prince William or Prince Harry. But if any of these fellows tie the knot, my teenage self will be devastated.

Jonathan Brandis (sadly, he committed suicide in 2003)

Andrew Keegan

Rider Strong

Devon Sawa

Jonathan Taylor Thomas

Matchmaker, Matchmaker

So you want to set Amanda up on a date?

Congratulations! You've chosen a hobby that will, at best, give two of your friends everlasting happiness (not to be confused with Everlasting Gobstoppers, which are lovely, but Amanda can get those on her own) or, at worst, cause two of your friends to never speak to you again because it failed so spectacularly.

Would you prefer it to be the former?

Then let's set up a few ground rules.

1. Both parties must be single. If one person is already juggling four other people, it's probably best you don't throw another one into the mix.

2. If asked in advance, both parties must have given permission.

3. You should probably ask in advance. Surprises of this magnitude rarely go over well.

4. You must have a reason why you think these parties should meet - a mutual interest or hobby, for example. Reasons Amanda has heard that are less than acceptable:
a. You're single. He's single. Go for it!
b. He's a nice guy, you're a nice girl. I'm sure you'll get along great!
c. You won't be a jerk to him. He could use that.
d. I just met him myself, but he seems like a good guy to me.

Following these simple guidelines will not necessarily guarantee success, but at least it won't be a total catastrophe. Your friends will appreciate that you care about their happiness.

We thank you for your attention, and wish you the best of luck in your endeavo

Killing loneliness

I'm a solo librarian, which means I work alone to run this library. I also live alone. Needless to say, I get a LOT of alone time. This is great, because I'm an introvert and I like that kind of thing. But there is such a thing, even for me, of too much alone time.

Remember all the snow where I was stuck inside my house for DAYS on two separate occasions this last winter? Yeah, I was ready to start hanging upside on my furniture I was so tired of being cooped up and away from people.

One of the benefits of living by my lonesome is that I get to choose the amount of social interaction I partake in, so on days I'm feeling socially off, I don't have to wonder who is going to be in my house.

One of the downsides is that when I do want social time and to see friends, I don't automatically have one around and I don't always have the success I'd like of getting together with the people I don't live with.

That's when I get lonely.

I can get discouraged easily when seemingly everyone and their dog says they have something else going on. If I'm discouraged and disheartened by my social situation, I find myself even more willing to just go somewhere by myself, or stay in and watch Netflix. I like myself, and I don't ever bail on me.

The key, I've learned, is not to give up when I don't have someone readily available and willing to spend time with me. Sometimes, I have to rack my brain to think of others who might even be remotely interested in getting together AND available at the same time.

But, as I remind myself, I do have friends, and many people I don't yet know well who might want to be friends.

William Butler Yeats said, "There are no strangers here; Only friends you haven't yet met."

I just have to reach out and be a friend to find a friend. "I went out to find a friend and could not find one there. I went out to be a friend, and friends were everywhere."

Easier said than done sometimes, but the rewards can be eternal!

All By Myself

I love having my own little apartment, all to myself. I know to some people it sounds reclusive or lonely, and maybe it is sometimes, but most of the time it's really perfect for my current situation.

Most of the time.

There are certain problems with living all by my lonesome.

For example:

Missing things - I'm highly organized and fairly predictable with where I put things, so anything going missing can be really disconcerting. Recently found - large whisk, angled makeup brush. Still missing - tape measure, one red flat (that's a shoe, boys). Where could they possibly be?

Stuck/broken zippers - I know Eilonwy will laugh about this, but I just got absolutely stuck in a zipper again. The skirt fit, but the zipper broke just as I finished zipping it up, and rendered it both unwearable and unzippable. Fortunately, my visiting teacher arrived as I was fighting with it, but she couldn't get it to move either. So I seam ripped my way out of it as we talked. Whatever works, right?

No divvying up of chores - If I want something cleaned/cooked/folded, I have to do it myself. Even for a small apartment, this can still be a lot of cleaning/cooking/folding.

The mess is always yours - I can see three pairs of shoes that should be put away from where I'm sitting. And they're all mine. I can't make anyone else put them away.

No one to talk to - I like being in charge of when I interact with other people, and not be surprised by roommate's friends I wasn't expecting. But sometimes, no one answers their phone or is online when I am in a social mood.

No one to hang out with - Again, I like knowing who is going to be in my house when, but sometimes there is no one here when I want them to be.

Only decision maker - This definitely can be a good thing, but just as one example - 3 meals a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. I love cooking and food, but it gets old deciding what to eat all the time!

Fortunately, the good outweighs the bad, and I still love my home!

On a related note, this video and poem is awesome, click through if the frame gets cut off:

Diamonds and brass hid behind painted glass in the heart of Cairo

When people found out that I was going to Cairo, Egypt, or find out that I recently returned from there, the response was almost inevitably "Oooooh. Cool! Why?"

Why?

Why not!?

That's really the answer, but with an added bonus of having friends who live there, the Heisses. A place to stay in a country where my hosts speak the language and have lived there long enough they're practically locals and I have the money and time to make the trip? I'd be a fool not to go. They're coming home at the end of this month, and when I found that out, I realized it was now or never.

It was amazing.

I didn't make any plans, just notes of things I'd like to do . I figured the Heisses knew what was best and how to factor their adorable children into the mix, since traveling with children changes everything.

I figured right, and happily so. It was a perfect ten days of hitting everything I wanted to see, several things I never expected, and still having some time to relax, just as I had hoped.

But first, I had to get there, an adventure all on its own, as it took one five hour drive, one cab, three(!) trains on three different rail systems, one plane, and one more cab to make it from my place to the Heiss' front door. I also picked up an Egyptian boyfriend on the way.

In researching my flight options, I discovered that a direct flight from JFK (plus the drive and trains to get there) would cost less and take approximately the same amount of time as flying from DC and having a layover somewhere in Europe.

As for the boyfriend, after a lifetime of living and traveling in countries where being an average sized blonde allows me to blend in, I knew that I would stand out in an Arabic country, but I didn't realize quite to what extent.

Until I reached the airport terminal.

There were a handful of other Americans, but even so, a blonde and purple-haired fair-skinned woman stands out.

My boyfriend spotted me as I was charging my cell-phone. He tried to strike up a conversation, and we introduced ourselves.

"So, we are friends now. We sit together on the plane?"

"Um. Maybe. If there are extra seats."

Then I walked away, hoping I could avoid him for the next hour. Which, of course, I didn't. I even had a plan. I was standing near a nice looking couple, so if my boyfriend started coming my way, I would ask them to talk to me and not be available for him to approach me. Of course, they'd disappeared by the time he found me again. We talked about where I was headed, and what he was doing in the States (though all he really said was that he travels the world for business).

"So, all my family was killed in a car accident."

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

"So, we can be family now?"

"Um."

And then he put his arm around me and tried to kiss me, but as I moved out of the away, he only caught my cheek. That's weird in my culture, but public kissing is absolutely taboo in his, so I'm not sure how he thought that was okay. Fortunately, it was time to board then and he was not so bold while standing in line surrounded by people. Our seats were in the same row, but, thankfully, on the opposite sides of the full plane, so I only had to see him again when I ran into him back by the bathrooms in the middle of the night. For all I know, he saw me go back there and came back to meet me.

I told the American couple I was seated with about him, and they looked out for me up until I found the cab driver the Heisses had hired for me.

For the rest of trip, I did what all the guidebooks suggest single women do and wore a ring on my ring finger (even if it was my silver butterfly ring turned around so just the band showed).

This means that everyone probably thought I was married to Andrew when he was around (as were Josie and Nancy, since one man can have up to four wives there), but I'd much rather be a sister-wife to Andrew than some unnecessarily forward anyone else.

As long as that's okay with Nancy.

Johnny Be Good

I love Family Home Evening. I can't say that I've loved every single FHE I've ever been part of, but I definitely have a testimony of it's importance in strengthening family relationships. My parents made it a priority in our home, and I'm grateful for that. When I spent a month with my grandparents, I orchestrated FHEs with the three of us, which they admitted they hadn't done for awhile. The format changed over the years, naturally, and it wasn't always on Monday, the traditional FHE night, but we always had it.

I've continued to make it a priority even out of my parent's home. I only have vague memories of attending in my BYU wards, both freshman year and the year after I graduated, but I know I attended when I could. I've made more of an effort here in DC, attending as often as I can, fully participating, and actually getting to know the members of my group. I don't attend every week, sometimes because there is a conflict and sometimes because I just don't feel like it (one of the perks of it not being a real family just yet), but I generally enjoy it when I do.

Socially, it's just my speed. A small group (instead of large), a lesson, and an activity, usually with treats. Being an FHE co-chair was a fun calling, even if surprisingly stressful sometimes. And post-FHE activities were good times - going out to dinner, playing video games, or watching "Heroes" (and, for awhile, watching "Heroes" whilst surreptitiously holding hands with a guy from my group who then wouldn't call me again until 7:17 on Friday night to get together to watch a movie, and since being low on someone else's priority list really isn't my style, this only lasted about a month).

Unfortunately, I've had a hard time wanting to attend lately. We don't have the most well-organized group, which doesn't seem to be planned very far in advance, and if I don't know what it is I'm driving upwards of 30 minutes to do after a long day, I'm not always keen to go.

I'm glad I went tonight though. The boundaries for my FHE group are on the far west side of the ward, but we were meeting at the bishop's home, on the far east end. It was a bit of a drive, but I was looking forward to it.

Apparently, I was the only one. Somehow, it was just me, the bishop, and his wife. And, it was lovely. They offered me dinner, which I happily accepted, having not been home yet, and we sat around the kitchen table chatting as I munched on a chicken sandwich, chips, and mint chocolate chip ice cream. Bishop did make sure I had a lesson - "Be good."

I think I can handle that.

The rest of my group really missed out on getting to know this lovely couple better.

What about you? If you have Family Home Evening, what do you do to make it an enjoyable part of your week?

They're on the trail to fame and glory

38-21 - Today's final score between BYU and Air Force. Go Cougars!

I used to not care about football. My brother and dad tried to explain it to me, but I never really got it. I'd go to games in high school to hang out with my friends. I knew touchdowns were good and sacks were bad and that BYU was the team to cheer for, but that's about it.

This changed when I had a football-loving boyfriend who could explain it to me. He was cuter than my dad or brother, and I really liked him, so I wanted to impress him and share his interest. He loved BYU football so much that he watched past games he'd taped over and over again.

Our freshman year at BYU, we bought All-Sport passes together and went to every home game, as well as the BYU-Utah game in Salt Lake. He'd explain plays and positions and I really started to understand and love football. I especially loved our tradition of kissing in celebration of every touchdown.

One Saturday was an away game. I'd had a pretty stressful Friday and wanted to kick back over the weekend, but knew I had to spend Saturday on homework, which is what I told the boyfriend I'd be up to - studying and listening to the game in my dorm room the whole afternoon. He had to work and would then go watch the game with his family at his grandparents' house.

As the game started, I couldn't pay attention to both the game and my homework and I really wanted to see my guy. During the first quarter, I had the great idea to take the bus to his grandparents' and surprise him. I figured I'd get there about the same time he did, if not a little before. I packed up my computer and headed out.

I arrived just before the end of the first half, said hi to his family and started working again. The boyfriend wasn't there yet, and even though his place of employment was way closer to his grandparents' house than his parents', we thought he might have gone home for a shower or change of clothes and didn't really worry about it. Halftime started and there was still no sign of him, but I kept writing and his family scattered into the house, leaving me alone in the front room.

Toward the end of the halftime, he still hadn't shown, but I looked out the front picture window to see him pull up, with a dozen roses in hand. He came through to the door and was completely surprised to see me just chilling by myself in his grandparents' living room. I explained that I was there to surprise him. It was then that he pulled out the roses and explained what had taken him so long.

He'd tried to surprise ME by going to my dorm with the roses, because of my bad Friday, at the same time I'd gone to surprise him with his family. It was quite the serendipitous event, and one of our favorite memories the rest of time we were together. It's still one of mine. Doing little things like that for each other was one of the best things about that relationship. At the end of that day, we still surprised each other and got to spend time together, which was the point anyway!

I still love BYU football. I listened to the first half of today's game, then (sort of) watched the second half with friends. It's hard to watch the games here, being on the East Coast and all, but I enjoy what I can.

One day, I'll get to reinstate my touchdown celebration again.

You know that I could use somebody

Just before I left work tonight, I decided to check the evening's movie schedule and see if there was anything that would tear me away from my evening plans of laundry and dishes. Lo and behold, "Julie & Julia" was playing at the cheap theater. Dishes? What dishes? So, I texted some friends and tried to throw together a last minute outing.

I messaged six friends and got six "I have other plans, but next time!"s. (Okay, one was about something tomorrow, but still.)

Oh well!

I took myself, and I'm totally okay with that. The movie was worth it. I'll see most of these friends at a stake event tomorrow. All of them responded instead of just leaving me hanging. I got the popcorn all to myself.

Best Friday evening ever? Nah. Decent? Absolutely.

'Cause I'm a woman, W-O-M-A-N!

I saw it for the first time just before midnight on Saturday. A dark little creature, scurrying across the far wall in my kitchen. A little too freaked out to investigate for 20 minutes, of course it wasn't there when anymore. So, I went to bed.

Sunday morning, when it ran across the open floor, a furry grey body against white tile, I definitely knew I hadn't just been seeing things.

I had a mouse.

I jumped up to follow it/chase it out of the house/something besides just let it run amok. It seemed to dash into my storage nook but was gone by the time I worked up the courage to move the things on the floor. I did notice that the door leading up to the main house had a huge gap underneath, so I barricaded it and moved on with my day.

Sunday night, the mouse had the courage to run by my living/bedroom door, and it was on. I couldn't find it behind my TV stand, but even if I could, what was I going to do? Hit it with a broom?

I called my dad. Who put me on speakerphone. So that the he, my mother, and my brother could laugh at me when I meekly whimpered "Daddy . . . I have a mouse."

Then they confirmed what I already knew - it was time for mousetraps.

After freaking out the landlady (turns out mice are one of her worst fears and oh yeah, the last tenant had a mouse too, sorry I forgot to tell you) by asking if she had any and being told no, I decided that a mouse in the house was an ox in the mire situation, for I would not be comfortable just letting the mouse do its thing.

Not wanting to deal with mouse bodies, I chose the no-view traps, as well as a few glue traps, just in case. Within moments of setting them, the mouse went straight for one, rattled it a bit, but apparently walked away. With six traps littering the floor of my teeny place, I figured it was only a matter of time, so I relaxed and waited.

By 12:30 AM, still nothing, but as I went to brush my teeth, the little devil poked his head out from behind my bookcase, as if to challenge me. It wasn't long before I realized there was only one exit and if I put a glue trap right there, I was sure to win. So I did, with the mouse watching from the shadows. I went back to brushing my teeth, trying not to be to anxious about the whole thing. Less than a minute later, I heard rattling, then struggling. I turned around and saw exactly what I hoped to - a mouse not about to go anywhere anytime soon.

Unfortunately, I had to look the poor thing in the face as I picked it up and put it in a trash bag. It temporarily broke my heart, but really, it had to be done. Sorry, dude. My policy still stands - I don't try to live in your house uninvited, so don't try to live in mine.

None of the other five traps have any catches, so I guess word has gotten out among the mouse community. I prefer that way, as having no one else to take care of unwanted visitors is one of the unglamorous parts of solo living.

But I did it! And I'd do it again. Only bipeds live here.

Well I know that you're in love with him

A guy I knew in high school recently posted on his blog asking how he should know that the girls he takes out on dates are interested in him. I was going to respond in the comments, but just decided to answer his question here.

It's a good question to be sure. How DOES a guy I'm out with know I'm interested in him? Here's a few things I know I consciously do to try to send that message.

Pre-date - Many of the following things apply to whether or not I like you before, during, or after the date. However, some things I may say before even going out with you should indicate that I'm interested in doing so. "Have you seen/done/been to _________ ? It looks interesting. We should go/I've been wanting to go." Translation: I'd love to go on a date with you and if you pick that activity, the date is planned! "Are you going to be at ward activity/mutual friend's party/etc.?" Translation: I hope to see you there. Also, while I am a very busy person, not every minute of every day is totally packed, and if I really want to see you, I'll arrange my schedule thusly and make every effort do so.

Open Body Position - If I'm sitting down, my legs are almost always crossed, but if my arms are not folded and instead are lightly placed on my lap - I'm into you. I may even try to point my body in your direction. If we're standing or walking, the closer I am to you, the more into you I am. I may even so much as switch my purse to the side you aren't on, so that my hand is available for you to hold. I once spent an entire date with my arms crossed as we strolled around the National Mall. I was NOT into him at all.

Eye Contact - I definitely try to make as much eye contact with someone I like as possible. I won't stare you down, but I will make you my primary focus. If I don't look at you at all, that's a sign.

Conversation - I'm a talker. I like to talk. Would I have a blog if I didn't? We've all been on dates where the conversation is dying or worse, already dead. Uncomfortable silences are just that, so even if I'm not into a guy I'll try to revive the conversation of few times. If I stop even trying, that's a bad sign. The more I'm talking/listening, the more I like you. This is especially true if I take something you said, relate to myself and then relate it back to you or ask you more about it; I'm trying to learn more about you. If I ask your opinion, I really am interested in what you have to say. Also, the more personal information I give you, the more open I am to letting you into my life. I'm not going spill everything immediately, but the more I tell you, the more I trust you. If we're not on a date and I start a conversation with you, that's a good sign.

On my date on Friday night, I broke the cardinal sin about talking about politics on a first date, and asked him what he thought about the recent election. He had voted for a different guy for president than I had, and not knowing what I had done, he shared his fairly strong feelings about why. When he was done, I told him who I had voted for, and he apologized for going off on the guy. I truly didn't mind because I really enjoyed learning about why my date felt the way he did.

Physical contact - If I touch you, whether that's by putting my hand on your arm, shoulder, knee, etc. (you know, tasteful), that's a good sign. If I shy away from physical contact you initiate, that's not so good. I'm not one to make the first big move - the first time we hold hands, the first kiss, etc. - but by initiating light touches and maintaining an open body position, I'm trying to show you that I'm open to the idea. The more I do it, the better.

Post-date - If I had a good time, I will say so. I will say thank you, regardless, because I'm polite, but if I say "We should do this again", I mean it. If you say it and I say something like "Oh definitely" or "Absolutely" then I mean it. If during a future conversation I say things like what's above in the pre-date section, I'm interested in another date. If I reference our date in front of other people, like "Was that what you were talking about on Friday?" or "Oh! He and I just saw that! We really liked it, right?" it means I'm don't mind that people know I went on a date with you. If I don't say or do any of that, it doesn't necessarily mean that I'm not going to, it just means that it didn't fit the conversation or whatever. No matter what, the more time I am willing to spend with you, the more I like you.

None of these things mean I suddenly want to marry you and have lots of babies, just that I'm interested in you enough to get to know you and go on a date with you [again]. Whether or not I like you will be manifested by some combination of the things above. If they are not all present, it doesn't necessarily mean anything, nor is this list all-inclusive and there may be things I do that I've forgotten about or do subconsciously. I'm an honest person, sometimes to a fault, and I try to make it fairly clear how I feel about someone. I only ask that you return the favor. I tend to back off fairly quickly if there is no reciprocation, but if I'm responding to your advances in any of the above manners, you can be fairly sure that I like you.

Remember that I can only speak for myself. I feel it's a fairly general response, but other girls may have different methods or responses.

So, I hope this helps Kurt and any other single male readers I may have. At this moment I am hesitating in posting, simply because it's a post that's going to leave me feeling very vulnerable. Still, I think it needs to be said, because this dating game doesn't need to be any harder than it already is.

That don't impress me much

Going to the salon is always good for dishing dirt, reading gossip rags, and, of course, getting a (hopefully) excellent hair cut, all of which I did this last Thursday. It's also super useful for eavesdropping on other people's gossip sessions.

This time I got to listen in on a conversation about dating between a male stylist and his male client (surprisingly, the stylist was the straight one). I enjoyed discovering that the guys talk about dating the exact same way we girls do. There were some statements made loud enough for me to hear, and a couple times where the blowdryer was left on and the client had his stylist stand in front of him so they could discuss more discreetly.

I was quite entertained, but also learned/was reminded of something. The thing I was able to glean from their conversation was that guys, once they ask us out, want to be impressed. The stylist had recently met his date at a riverside restaurant, overlooking the Potomac, and she showed up in jeans and flip-flops. He wished that she had put a little more effort into her appearance, because, like it or not, clothes really do make an impression on those who see you. My stylist and I agreed that jeans are okay, but with heels maybe, instead of ratty flip-flops.

Personally, I totally agree. I had a blind date with a guy last week, where we met at a mall for dinner and a comedy show. Sure, it was a casual place and activity, but I still wore a nice top, slacks, and heels. My date was not dressed to impress. (He also hasn't called me all week, but that's beside the point.)

The moral the story? Guys and girls need to dress to impress. Look your best (appropriate to the occasion) and you'll be remembered for it. An alternate title to this post could have been "Every girl's crazy 'bout a sharp dressed man", because, by golly, it's true.

The Reason

It all makes so much sense now. (click on the images to enlarge)

It's the little things

I've been on a couple dates recently, and I wanted to share some things that stood out to me. These little things that helped the gentlemen I was with earn points with me, and I'm sure most girls would agree.

Complimenting my appearance - You don't have to go overboard and say something every ten minutes, but I definitely made some effort to look nice for our outing, and it's nice when you notice.

Flowers - They're pretty. Be reasonable, as a dozen red, long-stemmed roses on a first date is a little much. However, seeing the flowers in a vase at home will remind me of the date long after it's over.

Paying for dinner, even after I asked you out - Absolutely not necessary, but a very nice gesture.

Making the most of it - Sometimes things don't go as planned, but having fun anyway is a huge plus.

Post-date text/call - To let me know you got home safe (especially if you live a considerable distance away) and that you enjoyed our date. It also lets me know you're still thinking about me, at least a little.

None of these things are going to make or break an evening, but they certainly add a nice touch.

It's Raining Men

And I'm not shouting "Hallelujah!" about it. Not this week anyway. If things continue like this, I really will end up being a crazy cat lady. Here's a list, in no particular order, of the guys I've had to deal with this week.

• The guy with whom I shared sudden and unexpected mutual interest, but after a month of uncertainty finally revealed his girlfriend had come back around.
  
• An extremely nice guy with whom I have a lot things in common, but so far I don't feel a spark with. Granted, lots of IMs and one phone conversation are no indication of true feelings, so I'm not giving up on this yet.
• The guy who seems it's appropriate to expect physical intimacy after only a few nice dinners. "i used to date a girl like that....kissing was it. and after a few dates i was thinking "ok so...im spending money, taking you out, etc etc...and all u wanna do is kiss? yeah....no i dont think its gonna work" When he asked if I was a "romantic", I said yes. I didn't realize that "romantic" now means "promiscuous and easy".
• The guy who was offended by my admission that I was physically uncomfortable (aka in pain) with the way we were sitting.
  
• An old friend from high school who is stationed near here, with whom I was planning to spend my Saturday, who completely stood me up and has yet to contact me with any sort of explanation. (No reports of "training accidents" from Ft. Meade. I've checked.)
• The guy who invited me to play tennis with him and in the course of scheduling our game revealed he has a fiancee. That's inappropriate and uncomfortable for me. It would be social event, outside of our current professional relationship, and there is no pre-existing friendship. This is the first week we've even talked about anything more than music. I wonder how his fiancee would feel about this?
• The guy who has once again postponed our date for another week. Since being on-call at the hospital (did I mention he's a doctor?) and going home to visit family are legitimate reasons that I was warned might happen, this is another one I'm not completely giving up on.
  

I really hope things turn around soon! Even Eilonwy admitted that I "have a very interesting social life." I like interesting good. Interesting awkward and bad are just that.

Hate is a strong word, but I really really really don't like you

I thought the worst that was going to happen today was that someone I'm planning on spending time with this evening was going to drive with their roommates to a gathering this evening instead of with me. While that could still happen, it's no longer the worst thing.

The guy I've briefly alluded to in previous posts? We're done. It sucks. He did something really, really stupid (to put it mildly), and, as one consequence, we both agree that we can't be together at all right now. Or probably ever.

I need a hug.

Falling, in and out, of love with you

Recently, I've heard the phrase "growing in love" (and variations thereof) a lot. After some thought about the choice of words, I really like it. "Falling in love" sounds romantic and wonderful, but it at the root of the phrase is the word "fall"

fall /fɔl/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[fawl] verb, fell, fall·en, fall·ing, noun –verb (used without object)

1.	to drop or descend under the force of gravity, as to a lower place through loss or lack of support.

This definition:

to pass into some physical, mental, or emotional condition: to fall asleep; to fall in love.

is definition #13!

While the phrase as a whole is extremely positive, it's rooted in something negative. We're all afraid of falling. It hurts. I'm still bruised from a fall I had Friday night, and I have problems from a fall I had six years ago. I really don't like to fall.

However, growing sounds much more positive.

grow /groʊ/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[groh] verb, grew, grown, grow·ing. –verb (used without object)

1.	to increase by natural development, as any living organism or part by assimilation of nutriment; increase in size or substance.

3.to arise or issue as a natural development from an original happening, circumstance, or source: Our friendship grew from common interests.

Sure, growing has its own pains, but, to me, it's much more promising than falling. President Spencer W. Kimball put it this way:

"The love of which the Lord speaks is not only physical attraction, but also faith, confidence, understanding, and partnership. It is devotion and companionship, parenthood, common ideals and standards. It is cleanliness of life and sacrifice and unselfishness. This kind of love never tires nor wanes. It lives on through sickness and sorrow, through prosperity and privation, through accomplishment and disappointment, through time and eternity." (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball (1982), 248.)

Elder Lynn G. Robbins wrote a wonderful Ensign article about eternal love, which I recommend. He also pointed out being in and cultivating love is a choice, and to fall in or out of love connotes a lack of choice, which I completely agree with.

I'm not saying that I'll never use the phrase "falling in love" or any of its derivatives, just that there's a better alternative. Either way, I certainly look forward to experiencing it again.

E-mail my heart

We all know that breaking up sucks. As long as the other person isn't abusive or creepy, it's hard to leave someone you know is a great person but they're just not great for you, for whatever reason. However, we shouldn't make it harder for anyone than it already is going to be. When a breakup is inevitable, the dumper should at least be as polite and respectful as possible to the dumpee. What I mean is - do it in person. Do it as soon as you can from the time you know you can't be with them anymore. Be clear, and concise.

(Disclaimer: Break-up here is defined as one person telling another they don't want to be with them anymore, whether it be after 6 days or 6 years and regardless of "officiality" of the relationship.)

I just heard of yet another instance where a serious, long-term relationship was ended in an email. Seriously? Man/Woman up! Every single time I've had to be the dumper, I've made sure to do it in person. With two notable exceptions. One during senior year of high school, wherein I was a total dork, and I have since profusely apologized and this guy and I are great friends. The second being last December, the guy was so pushy and begging to be with me after only two dates of him being an arrogant creep, that I couldn't bring myself to see him again. If he didn't take it well on the phone, it could have been disastrous, or even dangerous, in person.

I've been disappeared on (where he just went away, with nary a word) twice. Not a fan. I'm also not a fan of the break-up over the phone. Pretending to still be in love with me for four days, so that you don't actually break up with me on my birthday, would make you more of jerk than just breaking up with me.

Just as two people should be very clear about the relationship going into it, they should be clear when it ends. For me, if things aren't working, tell me and we'll either fix it or move on with our lives.

We're grown ups, right? Act like it.

The magic's in the makeup

Women are held to unrealistic beauty standard, thanks to the media and celebrities. We think that's what the men want, and women have killed themselves trying to attain that. This is nothing new.

What we don't realize is that that's what the men think they want too. Think being the operative word. Too many of them, it seems, are convinced they deserve a supermodel, a woman who stops traffic, someone everyone notices. Sure, women like Angelina Jolie are hot (or so I'm told), but we can't all be her. And, I'm willing to bet that she has bed hair sometimes too, and not the sexy kind.

The thing is, it takes a LOT of effort and money to look like that. I certainly can't afford a personal trainer, hairstylist, and makeup artist. I can't spend hours on my hair everyday or even make sure my eyebrows are perfectly shaped all the time. Rather, I can't spend hours everyday while someone ELSE does my hair and shapes my brows. I also don't get paid just to look pretty and not once has a designer begged me to wear his dress to an event.

So, I'm going to look the way I do, which I don't think is half bad. I actually have the same measurements that Marilyn Monroe did (and have an independent filmmaker who's really been wanting me to play her in his most recent project), but by today's standards she's a BBW. Why that category even exists is beyond me. (PS - Don't Google it.)

I do like dressing up and doing hair and makeup, as anyone who has seen my bathroom can attest to. Unfortunately, as a brilliant woman once said, "I have a couture taste, and a Target budget." Plus things like school and work are at a much higher priority.

I don't expect my future husband to wake up looking like this:
So he shouldn't expect me to wake up looking like this:
Because she doesn't either!

What we all need, and deserve, is someone who stops US in our tracks, regardless of what they're wearing or doing. I want someone who thinks I'm just as sexy vacuuming in my pajamas with a baby on my hip as I am when I'm dressed for something fancy. I'll be happy to return the favor.

Dove Campaign For Real Beauty

Save Yourself!

I have sometimes wondered, as a single person living away from home and working so detached from people as I do, how long it would take for someone to notice if I disappeared. I've concluded it would take at least two or three days. While there are some people I do talk to everyday (namely my mother, and usually Fran), it would take them at least 48 hours to realize they haven't heard from me. For example, I usually call my mom on my way home from work, at least to say hi. Sometimes we talk for five minutes, sometimes it's an hour. I recently didn't call her at all on Sunday or Monday, so Tuesday morning she called just to make sure I was okay. It's nice to know someone cares.

My roommates would probably be the ones to find my body. But since there are days on end we don't see each other, it would likely be three or four days before they realize they haven't seen my lights on/off or music coming from my room. Or more dishes in the sink.

Since I don't work with any one person every day, it would probably take a week for anyone here to miss me. The people in my building would probably assume that I was working somewhere offsite, and teachers who don't get their order when they want usually wait at least a week before they ask again. My administrative assistant (in my boss' building) would probably notice when I hadn't reported my hours.

When you have a lot of time to yourself, you think of these things. I also discussed it with some friends one night, so it's not like I'm the only one who wonders.

This morning, part of this fear was realized. I was sitting at my desk, working and chatting with Reimsy when I noticed there were a few random people gathered in the parking lot. I could see about 5 or 6 people from various departments milling about.

11:09 AM me: There are many of the people in my building just standing in the parking lot. Did I miss something?

Lindsay: was there an alarm?

me: I didn't hear one . . .

11:10 AM And I don't think everyone is out there. . .

Lindsay: weird

11:11 AM maybe it's some training thing for them

me: maybe

Lindsay: you could always stick your head out the window and ask

what are they doing out there?

just standing around?

me: yes

some are on the phone, or leaning on the cars.

talking.

just generally not inside the building

11:12 AM and it's people from multiple departments, so training doesn't make much sense either.

I am so disconnected in here . . .

11:13 AM Lindsay: is there a window you can yell out of?

me: it won't open all the way, so no

brb

I finally grabbed my jacket to go ask what was going on. As I passed my larger window, I saw that it was actually EVERYONE from my building, not just a few. When I got to the hall, I finally smelled smoke. This was no drill.

Once I got outside and across the parking, everyone was so apologetic for forgetting me. "I passed your door, but I assumed you'd know." "I'll post a sticky note to remind myself to check on you next time." And so on. We laughed about it, and since there was no obviously raging fire, it wasn't too serious. We waited for the fire department to come and find out that there was an electrical problem with one of the light fixtures. (PS - Some of those firemen were cute! Way cuter than anyone in my building.)

Twenty minutes later, I was finally back and able to tell Reimsy about what happened. We were both relieved that it wasn't more serious, or that I wasn't shelving or something and hadn't looked out the window. I'm sure I would have noticed once the fire trucks arrived, but what if had been too late!?

Maybe I shouldn't be alone so much . . .

Hypothetically . . .

Occasionally, some friends and I engage in an online game of Truth or Dare. Dares must be proven with photographic evidence, and don't happen nearly as often as truths.

Today I received this question:

Wildcard: You have a date tonight with a person who is SO totally hot, but there are signs that there is a good but unquantifiable chance that this person is ultimately a dud.

Sitcom complication: a person you were very into a long time ago shows up, wanting to make amends, or at least go for a date tonight. This person, of course, hurt you, but there are, again, signs that there is a good but unquantifiable chance that this person might well make good.

Whom do you choose?

Me: Having recycled boyfriends before, and knowing that has never worked out for long, I'd go with the hot guy. Sure. It could be a dud, but it might not be. He could be totally great, and he would be new, and there would be no tainted version of our future.

I don't think I could ever choose the 2nd guy. If he really wanted to make amends and impress me, he'll wait until tomorrow night.

Or, if I really wanted to make it a sitcom, I wouldn't choose. I'd go out with both tonight. I would have an early dinner with the first guy, maybe catch a movie or something. He's been told that I have a lot of schoolwork to do tomorrow, so I need to call it a night early and get some rest. The date goes fabulously, and he takes me home. The second guy has been told that I already had dinner plans, but maybe we can go out for dessert at at the 24 hour cafe down the street and then shoot some pool at the bar around the corner. It gives us time to catch up and I can see whether or not I really want to give this a second chance.

And, since this is a sitcom, when the first date goes late or the second shows up early, or the first date decides to hit the bar too, and they meet - the 2nd guy sees how hot the 1st is and realizes he's got some major competition. The 1st guy gets protective. They fight.

I leave with the really hot bartender, who is both hot and intelligent and is tending bar whilst he works on his Master's at GMU. And, since this is my fantasy sitcom, and this is important to me, he just happens to be talking to the LDS missionaries.

Who knows? It could happen.