over the past month...

I have attempted to make Persian food while playing "name that 90s song," attended TEDxBYU, had some fascinating conversations, ate delicious homemade crepes, and picnicked in the sunny weather with a certain boy I like.

I'm graduating in less than a month and my life is one big mystery after that, which I'm choosing to be excited about rather than terrified.

This is fun.

image via

finally

It had been about a month.

She'd accepted the truth and had moved on without regret or hard feelings. Of all the times she'd mustered up some maturity, this was one of her best moments.

She wasn't bitter. Not in the least.

She wasn't angry.

She had been a little sad, but that's all. And that was over.

There was someone new. And maybe he was more than that someone else, but he wanted more of her. And that was the best part.

But she turned down the wrong hallway, earlier than usual before class and happened to pass that someone else.

Instinctively, she bowed her head and wondered if he'd notice her or say hi.

And he did. With a grin and a big wave, he said hello and a name. Her name.

Like nothing had happened.

Because technically, nothing had.

And she responded with a quick "Hey, how's it going?" that came out more cautious than casual.

Pit in the stomach. Heart beating faster. Shaky hands.

But, you know, it broke the ice. She'd been hoping to bump into him, to show him she was fine. After weeks of convincing him she's the girl that can stay friends, she finally had a chance to show him she really is.

And maybe that's what she really needed. To finally really completely let go.

And that feels so so good.

hesitation

I'm the girl who waits until she's sure and by the time she knows, it's too late.

Sometimes I forget that life doesn't hold still just because I'm indecisive.

Maybe I fear regret of doing more than I fear regret of not doing.

Or maybe I fear success because I might not know how to handle it.

I'm good at heartache and disappointment. It's familiar and I know how I deal.

But for some reason, it's so difficult for me to believe that success will come. Maybe that's because I think I won't know what to do when it does.

image via

If you knew me better...

you'd know that I've had my fair share of hard conversations and I do just fine

that I will never resent you for your weaknesses, if you're patient with mine

that I will never expect you to do more than just try

If you knew me better, you'd know that I think with my head and decide with my heart

that I'm a natural optimist

that regardless of what happens, I'll be okay

If you knew me better, you'd know that I'm not in this just for me,

and that I'd love nothing more than to be something you need

But really, if you knew me better, you'd know that honestly, I just want to get to know you better

image

*And nearly two years ago, somehow I knew this would pretty much sum it up.

weekend

An El Salvador clan reunion a mi casa with late night pizza making and inside jokes,

a very entertaining commercial shoot,

a fantastic concert by Ryan Innes (blows me away every time, check him out here),

an uplifting and hilarious Sunday watching Downton Abbey and Boy Meets World with a favorite movie-watching comrade,

Kneader's all you can eat french toast with the roomies this morning,

and this beautiful Monday holiday.

Couldn't have asked for a better weekend.

Hopefully this means I'm refreshed and prepared to kick some advertising butt this week getting ready for next week.

Wish me luck.

have a little faith

Right now, I'm learning a little about faith.

In myself, in others and in a loving God who has a plan for me.

Someone who knows the timing better than I do, and who can see the whole picture.

On a less dramatic note, in 11 days representatives from 14 ad agencies are coming to look at our portfolios and I get nauseated just thinking about that.

I'm really excited, but this just means I have to be ready to show my soul to them in advertising form and hope that they like it.

It's vulnerability to a degree that I have not yet experienced.

But I prefer this to stagnant growth any day.

Here's to the sweat and tears that will be spent over the next 11 days, putting my book through the refiner's fire.

And here's to having a little faith.

patience

To the boy who was always in the background:

I definitely, definitely took you for granted.
And right when I thought I'd let you catch up, you seem to have stopped chasing me.

I would say I wish I'd figured this out sooner, but this is all part of the process, really. And timing is tricky, so I think I'll leave it up to Someone who can see the whole picture.

So maybe it will never be, or maybe it just won't be right now.

But I want you to know that I'm not going anywhere.
And, no, that doesn't mean I'm standing still, it just means that I get it.

I was too scared to go for it, for fear of a nasty outcome, but after all this time I'm finally realizing: you're worth the risk.

And if you're worth the risk, you're worth the wait, too.

cannonball--take two

Remember that one time when I was going to be brave?

And just go for it

head first

without worrying about how deep the water was?

I think I'm failing

and I'm too tired to try and catch myself.

Let alone anyone else.

At Her Fingertips--a series of three poems

Eight

She stood with two feet barely
Balancing on the knobby, uneven roots
Of the maple skyscraper in her backyard

Her eyes drew a line
From trunk to tip
Where green fades into blue

So many branches,
And she’d never been very good
At making decisions

He offered his hand to help her
Up to the thick, stable branch just above her fingertips

“I can do it myself,” she countered.

But he said, “Yes you can,
But you don’t need to.”
................................................

Twenty-Eight

She walked down the street
Not watching where she was walking
But who she was walking past.

Their faces told of birthdays and breakups,
Lost and found love,
A soundtrack to the pattern of their steps.

She looked at their eyes,
Curious if anyone wanted to know her story
But no one looked back

Then with a brush of his hand on hers
As he walked by

He whispered her name
And stopped.

................................................
Seventy-Eight

He laced his fingers through hers
As they took a walk
Down the hall with the white tile floors
And that smell that was too clean for the sickness it held.

She imagined they were barefoot on a beach
In Morocco
Forty-five years ago
After wearing an ivory dress and a gardenia in her hair

He tipped the driver of the rusty green cab
That had been their getaway car
And had carried her to the door
Of the quiet cabin that would be their castle

But that night,
When he lifted her onto a bed of clean white sheets
And crawled in beside her

They just slept
And that was enough.


{I wrote these for my creative writing class. I'm deciding that I really like poetry. Writing and reading it.}

these foolish things

Today as I was tidying up my room, Nat King Cole and the sound of rain in the background, I thought about how lovely life is.

Even on days when the power goes out, and it's cold and rainy, and sometimes a little lonely.

The learning and loving and moments of loneliness can be so sweet.

This song started playing and I decided that someday I will dance to it and it will be terribly romantic. As all songs by Nat King Cole are.*

"A tinkling piano in the next apartment

Those stumblin' words that told you what my heart meant

A fairground's painted swings

These foolish things

Remind me of you."

I love rainy day music. It's so...cleansing. Just like the rain.

image via vi.sualize.us (isn't it just gorgeous?)

*According to this little peek into my 16 year old self, Nat King Cole is already on the list to be played at my wedding reception. I'm not sure how many of the other songs I'll keep. But definitely Mr. Cole.

xo

Sometimes I honestly believe all I need in life is an endless supply of good hugs and forehead kisses.

this lovely image via vi.sualize.us

Suitcase Heart

Loving these lyrics by the Weepies:

I held so many people in my suitcase heart

That I had to let the whole thing go

Sometimes I stretch myself too thin.

I try to be everything to everyone.

And end up losing myself and what I want.

Because sometimes it's okay to care about what I want.

And to sometimes put myself first.

Because if I don't take care of myself, how can I do anything for anybody else?

So out of the crazy, hectic, wonderful busy-ness of this semester, this is what I want:

-to create a decent start on my creative portfolio (and maybe compete in YoungGuns?)

-to get rid of a lot of stuff that I just keep lying around my house. Simplify.

-to make some good habits: eating less sugar and more vegetables, flossing, reading for fun

Anyway.

I love my life. I really do.

I am so blessed with so many opportunities.

But sometimes I think I need to relearn the lesson of Good, Better, Best. :

We should begin by recognizing the reality that just because something is good is not a sufficient reason for doing it. The number of good things we can do far exceeds the time available to accomplish them. Some things are better than good, and these are the things that should command priority attention in our lives.

I think sometimes I have too many good things in my life, and I neglect a few of the "Best" things.

So this semester is going to be another semester of learning. Because that's what education is about.

Not just books.

Or tests.*

It's about life.

And learning how to do it right.

*like the one I need to be studying for right now.

Born in the 80s

So what if I'm too young to really remember this song?

But I'm loving it.

Not sure why.

And maybe I wouldn't have followed John Waite's tour bus all over the country.

Or had posters of him all over my walls.

Or listened to his music nonstop on my walkman.

But I do like this song.

And the oh-so-80s sense of the music video.

cannonball into the water

My natural reaction, when it comes to with those things called men, is to let the other girl win, (assuming there is another girl).

I don't like head-to-head competition. Maybe it's that I'm scared to lose. Or maybe it's that I think it's petty and pointless.

Either way, I tend to take the route of becoming really good friends with that guy, figuring that he'll only ever see me as that, but hoping that someday, when the other girl breaks his heart, he'll realize that I'm better for him than she ever was.

Because I was there.

Because I knew him better.

Because I never took him for granted.

And maybe he'll start to see me as the kind of friend that lasts forever.

{ Now, I could end this post right now. But you would all think that I haven't learned anything from this way of thinking, or from the past few almost loves I've had. }

But that way of thinking is a dream.

It's the exception, not the rule (to quote "He's Just Not That Into You.")

It's selling myself short because I'm too scared of what might not be.

I think I've been too passive, in an attempt to not be overbearing, when it comes to those things called men. I see girls that are like that, and wonder why they just don't get that the guy they want is, well, just not that into them.

I never thought that maybe they look at me and wonder why I never go after what I want.

I have to remind myself that I don't just deserve to be fought for, but that I owe it to myself to fight at least a little bit for who I want.

Because he's worth fighting for, or even fighting over.

And how is anyone supposed to know who I am or what I have to offer, if I never show them or tell them or give them a little bit of myself?

I'm really good at being "the friend." I know that.

But it's comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.

Maybe it's time to start giving myself credit.

It's a little exercise in confidence.

It's a little exercise in trusting my heart.

It's a little exercise in hoping for the best.

Throwing away the safety net.

Forgetting about Plan B.

And leaping into the unknown,

heart pounding,

fingers shaking,

but with gusto and faith.

image via sabino

{Thoughts? I'm interested to see what people think about this whole "fighting for what you want" thing. So comment. Because who doesn't love comments?)

one look

that's all it took.

she looked.

and he looked.

and then she looked away.

it was like he read her soul, page by ink-filled page, despite the sloppy handwriting and the cross outs, until he didn't have to read any more.

he just understood.

he understood why she plays with that ring on her middle finger.

he understood why she sometimes speaks too loudly or too softly when she's in a crowd.

he understood why she always carries a notebook with her, and feverishly puts her inspiration down on paper.

he understood why she dreams about typewriters and monogrammed stationary, not fancy cars or big houses.

and he liked that.

image via vi.sualize.us

what would I do without you?

The Script


So Britt already posted about this on her blog, but I just love these guys. Thanks for sharing, dear.

And, Britt, these are my favorite lines:
what am I supposed to say, when I'm all choked up that you're okay?
oh you got his heart and my heart and none of the pain...
-Break Even

there are no holes in his shoes, but a big hole in his world.
-The Man Who Can't Be Moved

I made the completely impulsive decision to order their CD from Amazon. Used, of course. For a whopping 6 bucks plus shipping. Worth it.

Can't wait.

photo via googleimages