Turn and Face the Strange

I've always prided myself in being the kind of person who makes plans. I knew where I wanted to go to college when I was 14. I was going to go to school, pick a career, get married at age 24 and have children at 26. This is something I told myself almost everyday for five years. I rattled off this plan to my coworker one evening after he'd asked me my plans on marrying Jayson. He laugh and told me, "You can plan stuff out like that all you want. But God always has stuff in store for you that's not in the plan. My life now is not the life plan I had two years ago." I shrugged it off. Maybe his plans didn't work out but mine most certainly would. God, The Universe or whoever always threw me curve balls. Everyone gets those. But Earth shattering, life changing stuff? Not me. The Universe loved my life plan.

Of course, that's not what happened. Life decided that after months of going smoothly and happily it was time for me to get punched into another dimension. At first that's what it felt like. When I found out I was pregnant I felt reality split into two different time lines. I watched my perfect plan dissolve in front of me and turn into a big scary pile of nothingness. I panicked. I got angry. This was NOT how I'd pictured my life turning out. It wasn't that I wasn't happy or excited. There was a part of my heart that was thrilled. But for a really long time, that joy was choked out by raw fear and anger at myself and the world for not sticking to the plan.

While I write this, I feel very sick and very guilty to even admit having those feelings. I've grown a lot in the last few months and I see now that this is the right path for me no matter what anybody else thinks. I'm working very hard at not caring about how other people see me. (I'm terrible at it, but I'm trying!) This is my life, and my plan has changed quite a bit. I know it's the right plan, though. I wouldn't trade the life I have right now for anything. I know that sounds stupid and cheesy. It kind of is, but it's the truth. Stuff got sped up. That's all. I met my soul mate at 19. At 20, I'm going to be a mom. And I'm excited! I'm embracing all the crazy and loving it.

I can't wait to meet my daughter and teach her about the world. I can't wait to see the kind of dad Jayson is going to be, or the kind of mom I'll be. I've spent so much of my life being a girl with a plan and trying to be someone I'm not. Now I have the opportunity to go with the flow and try to be the best version of myself I can possibly be. That's the plan now. Embrace the insanity ("Turn and face the strange, ch-ch-changes" as David Bowie wisely sings).

I probably won't blog again until my daughter arrives, or I have another existential breakdown and/or revelation. Whichever comes first. Until next time friends! Don't forgot to listen to David Bowie when you need life advice, He was a wise man, and has guided me from beyond the grave many times.

New Year, New Me (No but Seriously)

Once again, long time no blog. A lot has changed since my last post, and for once it's all good things.

BEWARE. Insanely self indulgent post ahead. Read at your own risk.

It's no secret that 2016 was a complete and total shit storm. There's really no other way to phrase it. On a massive scale, it was terrible. On a personal one, it was an emotional roller coaster.

I want to be candid, honest, and real here. I spent the first nine months of 2016 horrifically depressed. There were days last February where I couldn't leave my bed, even though I had class. I would go to work at night to a job where I was surrounded by people who had been mercilessly beaten by life. Drug addicts, ex-cons, recovering addicts, these were the people I spent my evenings with. I loved them all dearly, I really did. But being around that much hopelessness while I was already depressed wasn't exactly good for my mental health.

I spent the summer rootless, bouncing back and forth from St. George and Orem so often I never really knew where I was gonna be. I found myself incredibly isolated from all my friends and family, even though I was with them. Everything just felt wrong and awful all the time.

Around September, I hit rock bottom and found myself hysterically crying in the passenger seat of my friend's car. I was exhausted. I was overwhelmed with my own problems, and I was dealing with some things that were just too intense for me to handle. After that night, I realized that I shouldn't have to carry my load, and the loads of all those around me. I decided to make a change.

I shed the baggage. I cut ties with people who weighed me down. I spent more time with people who didn't ask me for favors or advice, they were just people who wanted to spend time with me. I reached out to a boy I had a crush on. I got a job where the people were fun, hopeful, and cool. I surrounded myself with positivity and my life changed. My grades improved, I lost 20 pounds, I fell in love!

I'm starting 2017 happier than I've ever been. I just wanted to share this rare occasion with you all. Cut out the bad stuff, round up the good, and even though I still have bad days, I have more hope than I thought possible.

Cuz hugs are overrated just FYI

Joe at the time I jumped on the JoBro train. 

I used to tie my entire identity with  a band. In middle school, I wore my Jonas Brothers t-shirt every Friday like a badge of honor. I would post stupid Facebook updates, make posters to hang up on my walls, I even spent the majority of my free time writing thinly veiled Mary-Sue fan fiction about dating Joe Jonas.

And me at the time, a real dweeb. 

The day I fell in love with Joe Jonas (and the other two, mostly because I sort of had to) is still one of the best memories I'll ever keep. I remember the moment he walked out on stage and I felt my insides burst into a white hot flame at this ridiculous 18 year old boy. 

That was nine years ago, which has me feeling all sorts of weird feelings. I have this tendency to compare myself and the stages I'm in within my life to where Joe was when he was my age. It makes my head spin to think about my 13-year-old self idolizing a 20-year-old dude and thinking he was a full fledged grown up. He was a pop star at 18 while I was an obsessive high school newspaper editor. When he was 20, he was working on his not so great solo album. I'm drowning in stats homework.

October always makes me wax nostalgic about life when I was a weird little dweeb whose biggest concern was making it home from school in time to catch the boys on Ellen.

I'm still a dweeb. Just less obvious.

Growing up is weird, but it's been strange comforting to grow up alongside a band that still holds a special place in my heart. My celebrity crush has also been an older brother to me. He has no clue who I am, but we've grown up together. He was there for me every good time and every bad one. I don't know the "real" him, but his persona has always been so open and honest that I feel like I do. When girlfriends broke his heart, I felt for him. When boys broke mine his music was there as a comfort. It's a beautiful thing that I will always been so grateful for.

This guy's still a dweeb too. I swear.

I look back fondly on all the nerdy things I did. Fanfiction gave me a community and gave me the confidence to pursue writing. I decorated posters and created an identity for myself during a time when identity feels so crucial. I'll listen to those Jonas Brothers albums when I need a good dose of nostalgia or a good laugh.

Even now, I support Joe's new stuff. DNCE is a great band and every time I hear them on the radio my heart swells up with pride. I'm hearing him be himself for the first time in 10 years of fame and I feel like maybe someday I'll find my niche like he has. I guess I'll have to compare myself at 27 to where he is now when the time comes.

True love never dies. It's been an honor growing up with you dude. 

You're not the only one

I've never listened to an album that let me sink inside of it. My life has been musical introductory by other people, showing me music that means something to them that eventually means something to me too. I've spent an entire year reading and meditating upon Carrie Brownstein's book, "Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl". (A review will be up on my other blog in a few weeks.) To celebrate the fact that I finally finished the book this afternoon, I listened to Sleater-Kinney's album The Woods and just lost the air from my lungs. 

Carrie Brownstein has been a hero of mine since I started watching Portlandia, and I had never heard of Sleater-Kinney until their reunion a couple of years ago. I didn't even know what riot grrrl music was. I tried the music, but felt a disconnect from it. The guitars were angry and disjointed, the lyrics fuzzy and angry. It wasn't my style. At least, not in that point in my life. I was 17 and my fixation was on the silly and lighthearted. I wanted music and culture to distract me, not fire me up. 

Fast-forward a couple of years, and I am angry. It's bubbling under the surface at all times, exploding in a fiery mess every few weeks. Sleater-Kinney (and more specifically, The Woods) found their place. Corin's angry wailing feels like its coming from that fire under the surface. Carrie's gentle, lyrical rage sounds the same as the way I carry myself from the day-today. (Above my bedroom mirror I have a picture of her with "Get Angry" written in bold Sharpie as a daily reminder.)

I drove through Provo with the windows rolled down, autumn air leaking into my car and filling my lungs. The radio was blasting, and I wailed alongside Corin and felt like someone truly understood my heart for the first time in years. It was beautiful. It was transformative. 

Scream when you need to. You'll feel lighter in places you didn't know were even heavy. 

Embracing Myself by Embarrassing Myself

Ever since I was seven-years-old, I have known that the way I view the world has been "other" when you compare it to that of my peers. My 2nd grade class was holding a mock 2004 election, and I was so incredibly excited to cast my vote. After my teacher counted up the votes, I realized I was the only person in my class who voted for John Kerry. I usually tell this story as the set up for a joke about how I've always been a democrat, even before I even understood politics completely. But something else was happening. All the other kids were just voting how they figured their parents were, which is totally normal. We were only in the 2nd grade! I wasn't doing that. My parents hate politics. I honestly don't think they even voted that year. I voted for John Kerry because I thought George. W Bush had his turn, but now it was time for a change. (Oh, the sweet innocence of 7.)

The point is, I've always been a little different in the realm of opinion whether it's controversial or not.What I wish more than anything is that I still had that innocent pride in my "otherness" that I had when I was 7. After another mock election in 2008 (I was in middle school at the time) I learned that my single vote for Barack Obama branded me as Different from the rest of my social studies class.  Now, I don't dare speak up for fear of being branded as "weird" or "LEFTEST-TUMBLR-BRAT". It's not just in politics where I feel afraid to speak my mind, it's in my classes at school too. 

Yesterday my English 2010 class had a simple discussion about higher education and the pros-and cons of easily accessible education. I figured it would be fairly simple and I'd be able to contribute to the conversation quite a bit since I have a pretty strong opinion on the topic, and we were all honor students. Education is important to us, right? I barely said a word. I was overwhelmed by every one's passionate opinions and the constant use of "I disagree, so-and-so. I totally respect you and all but I DISAGREE." For some reason everyone else's passion made me feel gross and wrong about all the things I wanted to say. I was afraid if I opened my mouth I would sound stupid or spoiled or uneducated. So I said nothing, and received a C for the discussion because of a lack of participation. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell my classmates that education is a right, not a privilege. I wanted to fight and argue and participate. But I held back entirely. 

The fact that I didn't speak up has been weighing heavily on me since the moment class ended. I was crying on my walk home from school because I was so angry with myself for not speaking up. My lack of self-confidence made me look like a moron who didn't do their homework before class. The whole discussion I felt my professor's eyes on me as it became increasingly more obvious that I hadn't taken my turn. I left quickly and felt stupid. Why can't I just be myself around these people? Who cares what they think of me? I ask myself that all the time but I never have an answer. 

I've always felt "other". In every setting I've ever been in, and maybe that's totally normal and this is just some self-indulgent rant that everyone can role their eyes at. But I feel other in my own family. I'm far more politically charged than my parents, who will often argue with me because to them, the thing I believe are extreme. I'm too far left for most of my extended family for the most part. My friends are closer to my views, but every time we talk about the election I feel a flash of shame because I'm proud of the fact that I'm voting for Hillary Clinton. I'm ashamed that I know what I believe and it doesn't fit the mold of anyone around me. I hate that about myself. I hate that the idea of posting this is making me sick to my stomach thinking about all of the things people will say about me after they read that sentence. 

I'm posting this because I'm sick of being ashamed of myself for caring about stuff. I'm sick of being scared that someone will look at me differently because of what I believe in. I just want to bee okay with who I am for once. I'm really sick of hating myself.

I Cried Watching Ghostbusters and You Will Too

I promise you will cry tears of joy. At least, I most certainly did. I've seen the movie twice now and the same scene keeps getting me all choked up.

The female led reboot of the beloved "Ghostbusters" franchise has recieved ridiculous amounts of scorn and criticism since the day it was announced. The film's trailer is the most "disliked" video in Youtube history, with a comments section so vile it will make you lose your faith in humanity. This sexist backlash was a complete surprise to me, to be honest. As a feminist in the year 2016, I didn't think that a silly remake of an already silly movie would cause such a stir. But here we are, everyone. For as many men claiming that their "childhoods are ruined", I am happy to say that there are a lot of kids whose childhoods will be MADE by this reboot.

I am a 19 year old girl, and "Ghostbusters" changed my life. I sat in a movie theater and watched four intelligent, bad ass women fight ghosts and be funny as hell. If I had seen this movie when I was a little girl, I would have been sucked in. I'd be playing Ghostbusters all day every day, feeling strong and awesome. This Halloween, I hope your neighborhood is filled with little girls wielding proton packs and wild hairdo's. Kate McKinnon steals the show with every scene she's in as the ecentric engineer, Holtzman. Every smirk, every adjustment of her goggles is pure joy to witness. Her character is the reason I cried in the middle of an ACTION COMEDY. There is a scene where Holtzman is blasting ghosts with the Ghostbusters theme playing in the background. The bad assery of this sequence left me a puddle of tears. Girls can do anything. Girls can love science. They can star in action movies and completely kill it.

Ps. It's way funnier and scarier than the original, so that's pretty cool.

Go Ahead and Cry Little Girl, Nobody Does it Like You Do

Long time, no blog. I suppose I'm way past due for an update, so here goes nothing.

I've tried to wrote a new post for this blog so many times. My drafts are filled with abanoned rambles, rants, depressing blurbs. But nothing has felt right. It's all been me trying to hard. Often times, I think I use writing as a way to either exagerate my problems or erase them completely. That's not who I am, though, In life am hinest to a fault. blunt to the point of cruelty. (Freinds who know me well, you can confirm.)

I'm still super lost, and stuck in my head most of the time. I let myself spiral out of control and I focus too much on the terrible things in this world. With the news like it is tonight it's easy for me to hate the world. I hate that a man was murdered in front of his daughter for no reason. I hate that Utah's suicide rate is so high, I hate that Donald Trump is running for president and mass murders are happening all around us. That's what I've been doing most of the summer. Hating. Feeling bleak and lonely. I'm disapointed in the world and I am so angry at it. I'm angry at myself for things I can't control. I've been blaming myself for things that are my fault. This week, I've just reached the end. I am going to be honest and say that there has not been a day in the past two weeks that hasn't both started and ended with me in tears.

I don't want to be angry anymore. I'm sick of crying all the time. It's exhausting, I want to be as optimistic as I used to be. As fufilled as I used to be. I thought I'd use this post to talk about some of the good things going for me in my life. Even if they're petty and the world is a mess, I ned to talk about them. For the sake of my sanity.

PIERCEE
My little sister is my hero, guys. Being away from her has been so hard for me but every time I see her, I am amazed. This kid works her ass off. She is wicked smart, wicked sharp, and so brave. That girl knows what she wants. She knows what she doesn't want too, and that's even more important. Piercee has worked so hard and come so far over this last year. I am in awe of her. Her strength makes me proud. It motivates me to be better every day. I look up to her so much. I wish I had her passion, her wit, her bravery. She does things I could never do, and she's so funny. She tells this story about me that is seriously the most embarassing thing I've ever done to her. I HATE it. But when she tells the story, I still laugh every time. (Ask her about it sometime. It involves me trying to fight her, and losing in a humilating display of rage.) I am seriously so proud of Piercee and everything that she does with her life. P, you are so clever and wonderful. You keep me going.

MUSIC
I've just found a lot of great music lately, and that's really helped a ridiculous amount. Part of this is thanks to Piercee, she shows me knew bands all the time that I go crazy for. I've been listening to a lot of PWR BTTM, The Neighbourhood, The Avett Brothers, even the new Nick Jonas album, which is pretty decent despite my recent distaste for him. (Some things never change.) I've also gotten into the habit of listening to my old Jonas Brothers CDs when I'm feeling sad. It makes it easy to pretend I'm a kid again. It helps.

BOOKS
I have been in almost a year long reading slump but I'm slowly digging my way out. I just finished "The Trials of Apollo: The Hidden Oracle" by Rick Riordan, and I feel good. Itt was a light, simple, and easy read. But it was something. Enough to get me kick started. Currently, I am listening to "Glass Sword" by Victoria Aveyard, and reading "Sweetbitter" by Stephanie Danler. A guilty pleasure fantasy love triangle mess, and a very literary "beach read" that has me drawn in.

FRIENDS
You lovely humans, you know who you are. Whether it's a Pokemon Go scavenger hunt in our pajamas, a lunch date at our favorite Mexican place, running errands together, sleepovers, tarot readings, just all of it. I love you all so much and I couldn't do this without you.

MY PARENTS
I've always been super close with my parents. But moving has made us even closer, I feel. I tell them everything. They're my two best friends in the world. I call them late at night seeking advice and they always answer. They always listen. They always take me seriously even when whatever I'm upset about is actually really stupid. I'm lucky to be their kid. I don't always give them enough credit, but they are the most amazing people ever. Without them, I wouldn't be me.

So I'm gonna try my hand at optimism and see how the rest of my summer goes. (I can't guarentee I'll stop being an angry cry baby though. It's kinda become my thing.)