So let it be written. I am falling apart.

"Here comes the rain again, falling from the stars. Drenched in my pain again, becoming who we are. As my memory rests, but never forgets what I lost. Wake me up when September ends." This has been the longest September ever. Sometimes nothing cannot be said that will be believed, and only tears can tell the story. It's like the feeling you get when you sing, "I put my trust in you; pushed as far as I can go. For all this, there's only one thing you should know. I tried so hard and got so far, but in the end, it doesn't even matter. I had to fall to lose it all. But in the end it doesn't even matter." At the end of the day, what are you left with? Only those things that you hold on to, whatever it is that made you feel like you could go on. But what happens when even those things are out of reach? Do you break down, tell yourself you can't move any farther? Do you begin to hate the things you once loved? Do you cry and hope it will help you move on? Or do you cling to something else, whatever is closest and easiest to reach? The scariest times are when you can't remember who you are. Only slightly less earth shattering is when you don't know why you are. Because if you know who you are, you can still love yourself. But if you don't know why you are, then where are you going?

Song of the day: Gwen Verdon, Charity

"Where am I going? And what will I find? What's in this grab-bag that I call my mind? What am I doing alone on the shelf? Ain't it a shame, No one's to blame, but myself... Which way is clear?When you've lost your way year after year? Do I keep falling in love for just the kick of it?Staggering through the thin and thick of it, Hating each old and tired trick of it? Know what I am? I'm good and sick of it! Where am I going? Why do I care?"

Werewolf Wednesdays....

I don't know what the heck was up with today, but everyone (and their dogs) was acting INSANE. I'm not kidding. The Allans, their children, and their dog were driving eachother (and consequently, me) absolutely bonkers. And I don't mean that in a good, "haha isn't it funny" way. I mean that in an "I might be a werewolf because I felt like causing much violence and harm to small helpless things" way. Seriously though, ever since my Junior year (when I was bitten by that freakishly hairy man late one night) I have given the theory some real contemplation. Why, I ask myself, do I seem to lose some of my emotional and psychological control with the turning of the moon? Why do I crave rare steak when the lunar surface is in full lumination? Why do I sometimes get the urge to attack people? And why am I so hairy? (Just kidding.) I do seem to find myself longing to run freely and pillage instead of sleeping at night, though. And I'm wondering if that's a part of what was going on today... Or perhaps it's just hump day again.

I Do So Love the Pointless Surveys. Thank You Robbie!

1) Are you currently in a relationship or single? Hehehe. [Bitter laughter ensues] Take a guess.

2) Are you happy with where you are? Um...I'm in Vail, Colorado.

3) When you meet the right person, do you fall fast? Haven't ever met the right person, but I thought I did once, and at that point the falling was pathetically quick.

4) Have you ever cheated on someone? Never in my life.

5) Do you believe that there are certain circumstances where cheating is acceptable? Only if you're playing Scrabble with Chris and you make up words because you don't want to lose. Usually you don't get away with it though.

6) Would you ever take someone back, if they cheated on you? I doubt he's coming back because he's getting married to said cheatee, but I'm 105% sure I wouldn't.

7) Have you talked about marriage with another person or have you been married? Um, yes. With said retarded cheater. Once again, all talk. Funny, life.

8) Do you want children? Um, I already have some. And I see them enough, thanks.

9) If yes how many? How many yesses? Orange.

10) Would you consider adoption? I'm thinking of adopting a cat so that I can reach critical patheticness.

11) If somebody liked you right now, what do you think a cool unique way of showing you would be? Oh, SHOWING, eh? Well THAT's a novel concept. I probably would be so shocked I wouldn't know what to do, except marry them.

12) Do you enjoy a chase? Not if I'm the one doing all the work. Been there.

13) Be honest, do you play the "game" when you are dating someone? Absolutely not. That would be why I left Utah and tried to join a Monestary. Apparently, those are for men, so I ended up in Vail.

14) Do you believe love at first sight exists? Only if there is a sufficient amount of denial involved. And two really REALLY attractive people. And possibly alcohol.

15) Are you a romantic? Unfortunately, yes. That translates into "gullible" in most places.

16) Do you believe that you can change someone? Physically? Yes. But only with anesthetic and sharp surgical tools.

17) If you could get married anywhere, money not an object where would it be? Cuba.

18) I'm going to make up my own question. Is borange a word? It most certainly is. And if you get the chance, tell Garrett that.

19) Do you easily give in when you are fighting? Hahahaa! Give in? Nevahhhh!!!

20) Do you have feelings for someone right now, whether they know or not? Only for the Smurf, for whom I will eternally pine until Prince William comes around. (Muah!)

Proclaimation of Emancipation

Okay, consider this my official declaration. I never want to date again. I don't care what everyone in Provo says, or how good cake can sometimes appear. I mean it. I'm done with men, if not forever, then at least for a very very long time. From now on, solo and free is what I would rather be. No more aggrivating relationship defining conversations, no more staying up well into the night beating the philosophical bush, trying to hint at but never truly express one's feelings for another. I'm sick of it. S-I-C-K. Of all of it, the whole shebang. The worrying, the insecurity, the drama, even the thrill of uncertainty that comes between the first glance and first kiss.

Yes, I am attempting (and will succeed at) what every addict inevitably needs to do to finally kick their object of obsession. I am going to quit love cold turkey. Don't think I can do it? Wehell, that's where you are going to be proven very much wrong, my friends. And make no mistake. This is not some depraved act of a chronically disappointed and depressed female who finds herself in a void of hope. No, no. This is a "Menifesto", if you will. An act of liberation from the tyranny of waiting up at night, of waiting for someone else to complete me, or make me a happier person. I will no longer be anyone's woman! I will be my own woman and a dang fabulous one at that! Women of the world, (and especially Provo) if you too find yourself weary of the game we call "Love", I invite you to join me in my act of revolution against crappy dating standards and tiresome games, against feeling lonely, against the "Timpview" snatch and grab way of life. From this day forth, I hereby declare my independance!

When Enough is Never Enough

Okay, so latest discovery: I have a very addictive personality. Now, I wish that meant people couldn't get enough of me and would sell their TVs and bodies just to get me, but that is just simply not the case. Unfortunately.

Anyway, the reason I have an addictive personality is obvious. I can't, repeat CAN'T just have something once. This applies to all facets of my life. Clothing, chocolate and cheesecake, TV shows, relationships, men, and kisses. Clothing because I love making a fresh first impression every time. Chocolate and cheesecake because, well, if you don't know what I mean you're freaking insane. TV shows (and books, too) because they are an ongoing story and I love getting caught up in ongoing stories. Old stagnant stories are boring. But movies rule. Tangents because I always make them interesting and I love randomness. Randomousity. Randomity. And, (if you couldn't tell I was avoiding this one) relationships. (The other two are in direct connection with this one so I shall explain them in due time.)

So why am I addicted to relationships? Why can't I be the kind of girl who just goes out and samples a little bit of everything? Why can I not be satisfied until I eat as much of the cake as I can without getting sick or vomiting? (And by now you should hopefully know that I'm not talking about actual cake) A lot of girls can feel a need for something, whether it be acceptance, attraction, danger, drama, whatever, and just go out and pick a random situation that temporarily solves their problem. For me, this is hardly enough. And so I usually choose not to take the easy way out. Okay I never have. Even though sometimes it seems like the quickest and most available solution to fix my loneliness by hooking up with a hot Australian man, or drown the pain of a lost love with alcohol, or hit something really hard, or just give up even, I seldom make it easy on myself. Why? Because for some reason, I am addicted to the hard way. Or, as might be more easily explained, the long way. I seem to have the need (in relationships) to go for the things that won't be quick or easy, but instead will be long term. This often means that crappy relationships are drawn out and take up waay too much of my time, or that I will spend months or years pining over someone that I should have long ago disposed of. Because, to tell you the truth, I think I am addicted to tedium. One date, one hug, one kiss, one glance. I just can't seem to let them slip away without chasing them down to see if they go anywhere, or in some cases riding them out amid all the things that make them seem impossible.

For some reason, I've never believed that "Happily Ever After" just has to happen. I have to make it happen. Or at least, follow it around for a while to make sure it isn't the real thing. I sometimes wonder (as if my heroines were actual people) if Sleeping Beauty stayed up all night after meeting Prince Phillip wondering how she was going to meet him again, just in case he was the one. Or if Cinderella cared whether or not the Ambiguous Prince followed her home. If Romeo hadn't climbed her balcony, would Juliet have had to climb his? Or would she have just waited it out? Maybe, if he hadn't proved up to the task, she would've settled for some hot second cousin instead, escaping her untimely fate and living a long and fruitful life? Perhaps we shall never know. Just like we may never know why I can't just leave well enough alone. Why can't I just settle for a taste, when in fact a mere taste is often much sweeter than the full experience?

Twenty is a Trip

Okay, so as of three days ago: I am twenty. Try to restrain your shock about this emboldened statement -- I am still the girl you once knew, simply older and wiser. Well...older.

I am also residing completely alone in a foreign place. And when I say foreign, I mean that I had never been here before I moved here. This is a scary thing for one so young. Also for one who is probably the only single mormon girl in the entire town of Vail. (I'm seriously not kidding - maybe even the only mormon in twenty miles) My branch is in a nearby town called Avon, and there are less than forty people who actually reside there full time. Every Sunday, there are roughly twenty or so non-locals, or "tourists" who pass through. Usually these tourists happen to be Americans, and sometimes are attractive and close to my age. Which just makes it all the more cruel really. As it is, I have to drive about twenty minutes to even get to church. And if I need to visit the RS President's house (which once was about 2 feet away from my home) I have to drive that and then yet another fifteen minutes. Needless to say, you people don't know how easy you have it. Also, let me mention that the meetings I sit through on Sunday are entirely in Spanish, with brief english translations accompanying. I will be fluent when I return home.

In the meantime, please let me know what's up back in the world of young adults, 2am hangout sessions, NCMO's, DTR's, and Betos.

I love you all!!!

Saturday in Vayal

Okay, so last night leaving work was about the funniest thing ever. I closed alone (rocked) and then I rode the bus home. As I am sitting there, I check my messages and I find this one where a lady I have never met is railing off at me in native Spanish. At this point, I am confused. And slightly intrigued. It took me about three times listening on the noisy bus, but I finally got the gist. Basically, this woman is the RS President of the Vail branch (which is about 75% latin) whom my MOM called and told that it was my birthday, and that I would be coming to church on Sunday, etc. So this woman, Solida something...is going to bake me a cake for my birthday.
Random? I think so.

Flashing foreward to now. I hate being in the store alone in the morning. Mostly I think, because of the guilt I feel for not doing anything. But what else can I do? I've already swiffered the floor, tried to sell things to whoever has walked in, (not many people) and have done all the opining stuff. Basically, I just think I'm not cut out for retail. At least not retail by myself. I'm perfectly capable of running outside and forcing people to come into the store when there are other people working here, but when I'm alone I just get way too self-conscious. I can't bring myself to be all "HEY!!! What's up come in here!" When no one is there to back me up. Which is why the guilt. I've seen probably a dozen people walk right by, and they all glance and keep going. Am I not hot enough? Is that it??? Maybe if I start on some delicate and time consuming task, like doing all of the inventory. That'll be sure to make people come in, according to the law of irony.
Anyway, so begins another day.

Act 1, Scene 3

Okay, so more on the same day:

Tonight is the first night that I am forced to close the store all by myself. Everything is totally smooth sailing until about 6:04pm. (We close at 7:00) It is at this point that I am literally slammed with a group of loud, high maintenance Turkish women, one British woman, a kindly older man, and I'm pretty sure a cranky old fart.
All of the sudden, not a single rack in the store holds a shirt that is the proper size, proper style, etc. "Do you have this with long sleeves in a Medium?" I'm pretty sure we don't. "Sure, let me just check... [Fuuu--- why did I say we have it? We don't have it!] ...um...I'm not finding it ma'am." "WELL look faster. We have a time no more." "Oh, okay, [secretly wishing that a non-existant shirt will magically appear on back room shelves...] How about a small with short sleeved instead?" ....Evil Turkish look ensues.

Flash foreward thirty minutes. My immaculate store is in complete disarray, I'm pretty sure I gave the pissed off Turkish lady the wrong watch (please God, don't let her come back while I'm still here), and the kindly old man got the local discount for being patient and kindly while the crabby one just sat and glared, not buying anything. Still, I've almost reached my $1,500 kickA goal for the night. Just $5.00 short... Damn why didn't I talk those people into getting something else? Why did I give the kindly old man the discount? Blehhhh. Okay, well I think I'm going to go lock the doors now, so that I can count the cash, refold freaking EVERYTHING, put stuff back and then begin my long and creepy ride home to my little condo all byu myself on the bus. Please let my Latino brethren not be there tonight. I am NOT calling Cake again and pretending he's my spouse.

And so ends yet another exciting day in Vail...

Chronicles of Vailia - Chapter I

Okay, so here I sit in a store that is about 1/2 the size of my condo. I love the place, but being here and having no money really sucks a lot. I have seen exactly four locals close to my age since coming here, and all of them work at the pizza place down the street, at which I am soon to be a regular. So far, no friends. I haven't gone to church yet, but the Vail, Colorado Branch holds little promise as far as people to hang out with. I love the family that I work with. The owners are Poe and Kanchana Allan, with two young boys (7 & 8ish) Quinn and Jaden. They also have two dogs, a rottweiler (huge) and a scotty I think (tiny) who weighs probably six ounces. That's all I can write for now, but let me just say that Vail will be a lot more fun when I have money.

Miss you all!

Vail Vail Vail

Have been in Vail for about a week. No time to blog further. Need...collegiate...companionship. Also, am turning 20 in two days. Wohooo!

Love you all!

Verocious in Vail

I Have the Cake But I Don't Want to Eat It

Okay, so tonight I have a date with the stale cake that's been around for a while. I never really liked it very much, and it frequently annoyed me that no one seemed to have the presence of mind to throw it away. So there it was, staring me in the face all this time. Then, out of nowhere, all of the sudden I find out that this old and somewhat stale cake has belonged to me all this time. And, had I known this was the case, and had I not been so neglectful and careless of this cake, perhaps I may have eaten it before it became so stale.

The problem with this idea, is of course the reasoning. Because, now that the time has passed, no amount of analyzing or wishing will make this cake any less stale. And then there's the issue of the new cake, which I still salivate over frequently but have not recently had a chance to taste. This cake seems to be very sweet, and available for me to eat, but it's rather a shy cake and doesn't call as often as I'd like. It's almost as if the new cake isn't aware that it's opportunity to be consumed by me is a limited thing. I'm moving to an entirely different bakery in about two days, as it were. So here is the major dilemma:

I never knew if I actually wanted the cake or not, because I didn't realize it was mine. Now that I have it, I'm still not sure that I want it. Plus, it's rather stale and a little bitter at this point. But it seems that if I don't take a bite of one of these pieces in the next short period of time, both are going to become superflouous anyway. So, do I take the cake? Do I swear off cake for the next six months? Or do I try to eat both and not get sick? Will they even have cake in Colerado?