The Things I'll Do Because of a Boy, Pt. 1

Get to church at least 10 minutes early every single week.

I can't get enough of the banter.


{Taken last week, outside my house, before church. I wish I would have gotten one today in my adorable brown argyle shoes with the bows and the brown tights, but I was too concerned with getting to church at least 10 minutes to early to remember to stop and snap a picture. Oh wait! Do you want to see the cute brown shoes? Click here, scroll past all of my post-break-up crazy-person ranting, and take a look-see.}

"I Just Don't Really Like People."

I went to a party tonight.

And I subsequently remembered why I don’t go to parties.

I mean, it wasn’t completely terrible, really.

But it was really hot and really crowded and I kept being bumped into by sweaty people I either don’t know, have been spending the two years since high school avoiding, or whose names {or mocking nicknames} have now been added to the list of people I need to avoid while at the institute.

After khood and I were done dancing but before we could leave {we were held hostage by the pouring rain, afraid to get soaking wet on the half-block trek to my car} we went and sat on the top of the stairs dividing the party half of the house from the non-party half and talked about why we don’t like parties as we stared at a group of guys who may have been cute but who were wearing questionable t-shirts. {SWAT = Sweaty, Wet, and Tired... Really?} And we both came to the consensus that any guy we would ever be interested in would not be spending his Saturday night at a party like this. I’m not sure about khood, but the guys I am interested in were probably sitting on their couch watching Seinfeld, or reading a book or hanging out with a small group of friends, or even taking a girl on a date. Because guys I am interested in ask girls on dates instead of trying to make “get to know you conversation” while awkwardly dancing with them at parties.

So yeah, I was pretty judgmental of everyone who was there.

And yeah, that was probably my last party for a very long time.

But I am glad I went anyway because I got to spend a lot of time with khood which equals a lot of talking and a lot of us knowing exactly what the other person is talking about, which is always nice. Plus, nights like this always confirm that maybe it’s not such a bad thing to sit at home on my weekends of there isn’t somewhere I really want to be.

So until next time my friends all decide to get together to grill hamburgers or one of these hypothetical boys invites me to sit on his couch and watch Seinfeld with him you can probably find me at home.

And after last night, that is more than ok with me.

confession #10

here’s the thing i have learned about my {mini} broken heart. sometimes, it can stretch days into eternity. friday nights, sunday mornings, and anytime i am staring at my cell phone waiting for a text message can seem agonizingly long. like, time practically stops, long. the thing is, however, i spend so much time and energy figuring out how to get through these little moments, hour by hour, that i don’t pay attention to how quickly things are actually moving. and now it’s practically march, which is insane, because i am still trying to figure out what happened to january.

A To-Do List Post Script

For the record, the “cleaning” parts of my to-do list were comically simple: take out the garbage and rinse out my bathroom sinks. So why I spent the last hour wearing yellow rubber gloves, up to my elbows in bleach, and scraping soap scum off of everything with a plastic knife, I couldn’t tell you. Unless, of course, cleaning has finally been added to the List of Things I Would Rather Do Than Homework.

{Which is saying something, because today’s homework was, in theory, fairly painless: read through chapter 10 of Great Expectations, outline my next writing assignment for my creative nonfiction class, and come up with 200 semi-intelligent and mostly coherent words on Tennyson’s “The Lady of Shallot.”}

Other things on the list include, but are not limited to:

-Sleeping
-Lying in bed not sleeping
-Lying in bed facebooking and blog stalking
-Clicking on blog side bars, taking me through a never ending stream of mostly painfully boring blogs that are somehow connected to someone I might know in some way
-Inventing clever ways to start text conversations with people the person I want to talk to
-Forcing myself not to text said person because one of the things on my to-do list reads: Don’t text {the boy}
-Writing in my journal and then writing the same thing, only vaguer, in my blog
-Watching the first half of The Real World: DC {But not the second half, as I have yet to make it through an entire episode since Sister & her Fiancé watched the season premier with me over Christmas break}
-Making pointless lists

So, anything equally as silly on your procrastination list today? If you feel inclined, please share!

Insert a Synonym for 'Weird'

Yesterday was weird.

Weird in the way that it was the first Wednesday I haven’t worked in forever, not weird in the way that gives me any interesting stories to tell.

It was weird in the way that I realized The Ex is leaving for his mission in exactly 1 week, and weird in the way that this realization doesn’t make me feel anything, really.

Weird in the way that I wrote down everything I was thinking in my journal {which is not weird at all, just another daily occurrence} and it took up about 8 pages and for once writing it all down did not provide me an ounce of clarity. That was the weird part.

Weird in the way that I was driving home from school with the windows rolled down and found myself thinking about how lovely February in Arizona is.

Weird in the way it always is when the boy and I get close to having a real conversation about something kind of important, but then dance around it for an hour the way we usually do until he gets tired of being so evasive and decides the conversation won’t happen after all.

And it was weird in the way that I got an email last night telling me that my 9 am class this morning was cancelled.

So naturally, I am giving myself the entire day off.

Well, sort of.

I’m not driving down to Tempe for my other 2 classes, but I am going to get to work on the sizeable to-do list I made last night.

And that is what makes today weird.

Although now that I am looking at said list in the daylight and with an arguably well rested mind, I think I might have overestimated my ability to get things done when I could just as easily lie in bed and do absolutely nothing.

The main problem is this list wants me to hit on all cylinders.

It wants me to clean, to do a fair amount of homework, to be healthy, and to relax and hang out with Krystal tonight, and do a host of random little things.

Weird.

I have not been this productive on a “day off” in, I don’t know, ever?

I must have been greedy last night.

Or optimistic.

I would normally say it was the former, but who knows; things are weird around here.

Maybe that weirdness includes some optimism.

confession #9

i have been working at red robin since june 2009. that's almost 9 months, people. and i have this manager, who still pronounces my name wrong. he says it like "kar-uh" instead of "kare-uh." i tell myself it's because he's from new york, but really, he doesn't have an accent, and that's not the reason. i'm kind of used to this misconception and i am usually pretty good at correcting people who pronounce my name wrong {and correcting and correcting, if need be} but this one must have slipped under the radar. either that or i was too nervous when i got hired to actually speak to a manager. and now i'm about 8 months too late to say anything. lame.

The Things I'll Do Despite a Boy, Pt. 1

Do you remember Monday, February 15, 2010?

Well, I do.

I remember it because I was frustrated and my brain was fuzzy.

{The evidence can be read here and I blogged about it here.}

I was unnaturally sleepy and feeling worse than I had in donkey's years.

And still, on top of that, on top of being so distraught over what to do because of some confused guy, still {!} I was expected to write an entire paper for my oh-so brutal African American Lit class?

You've got to be kidding me, Professor. I said {internally}.

Sometimes there is a crisis bigger than school.

But I sat down for a few hours, and I wrote anyway.

And what do you know?


It's good to know there are still some things I can do, and do well, even when it feels like everything else is in shambles.

A Reminder That Nothing Happens By Accident

I held my brown lunch bag awkwardly in my hands. I shuffled uncomfortably from my place in the center of the cafeteria. I looked around, attempting to achieve the nonchalant looking of someone scanning the crowd for her friends, rather than the desperate look of someone realizing she has no friends to sit with.

{Kara Durkin, "Just Lunch"}

Stupid title I know, but I am terrible at titling my papers, which is a shame, because I love titling my silly blog posts.

---

Tomorrow morning I turn in my first major writing assignment for my creative nonfiction class. I am happy with the way the paper turned out, but I cannot wait to get rid of it so I can stop thinking about it. While I was writing my first draft it somehow morphed from what it was supposed to be and turned in to something I didn't want to spend any time with. After a bit more struggling I turned it back in to a paper focusing on something I cared about, but after all of this struggling I am tired and ready to send this baby packing. I've had enough.

That being said, I am already looking forward to the next assignment. I really do love this class.

That being said, I take back anything I may have said about this being my favorite class. Actually, I'm not sure I ever used the word favorite here, but I definitely have in conversation. And I would like to take this opportunity to officially change my mind.

After today's institute class, I realized that Book of Mormon with Brother Calton is my absolute favorite class. It is without a doubt the 100 minutes on campus I look forward to the most, I enjoy the most, I prepare for the most, and I use in my daily life the most, and that helps me the most when things get rough, as they invariably do for everyone, especially someone as emotional as I am.

I even managed to avoid my habitual Sunday night collapse last night as I studied for this morning's class.

I don't think that was a coincidence.

confession #8

i should have stood up, both arms waving, and shouted out across libraries, "Hey you! Love me back."

{Maxine Hong Kingston, "No Name Woman."}

i came across this tonight while doing my homework, and i couldn't help but think, this is the one regret i am most afraid of having.

Apparently the Word "Angst" Only Exists With the Modifier "Teenage" In Front of It

I fail at being sixteen again.

Just like I predicted, 9:30 pm last night found me changing out of my sweats, deciding I definitely could rock the not-brushing-my-hair look again, and waiting to be picked up by a friend so we could spend the night at Coffee Rush, 2 grocery stores, and driving around in the rain listening to J.R. Cash.

That makes two nights in a row that I valiantly tried to stay in bed staring at the ceiling listening to depressing music. And that makes two nights in a row that I failed.

Maybe it is something programmed into the DNA of moody teenagers that real adults {ha!} just don't have the mental or emotional capacity to do. Not on a regular basis, anyway. Not when the "problem" ain't really that big of a problem.

The funny thing is, apparently I knew this was coming. Senior year of high school my English teacher assigned a paper requiring me to define what my name as a verb would mean. I chose the verb to be "karaed." And after an entire single spaced page of rambling what it meant to be "karaed" the second to last paragraph said this:

To be karaed is to be almost 18 and to wake up every day wondering how much longer you will have the luxury of drowning yourself in blissful teenage self-absorption, to contain the kind of egotism that could allow you to go on for pages about yourself.

{So dramatic! So heavy-handed! So hormonally imbalanced!}

Well, I was half right anyway. I can, and do, still go one for pages about myself, but it appears I no longer have the luxury of lying around and throwing myself the ultimate pity party on Friday & Saturday night.

It's kind of a relief, and it's kind of sad.

I Get a 'B' in Originality

I have almost decided on spending my Saturday night doing homework.

But then again, this time yesterday I had decided on spending my Friday night in bed with a pillow smahshed over my face listening to Something Corporate on repeat like it was 2006 all over again.

Don't ask.

By approximately 9:30, however, I was putting on makeup, wondering if I could rock the not-brushing-my-hair look once again, grabbing my keys, and heading for the door. For better or worse. {I still haven't decided yet. Although the night was fun, and interesting, to say the least.}

So you never know.

But for now homework {+ Secondhand Serenade} is looking is looking like my best (e.g. smartest} option.

And I'll definitely get to it once I have exhausted all other possibilities. Including writing this post, which I have tried, and failed, to do 3 times in the past 2 days.

But really, getting my homework done by Saturday is something I have been thinking about all week. I'm hoping it might be a good way to avoid the inevitable Sunday night meltdown I have been experiencing as of late. And while it might make me feel lamer than lame right now, I think it will be worth the trade off if I am able to come home from church tomorrow without crashing under the weight and stress of a new week and a heap of undone homework.

Here goes nothing.

P.S. Apparently my taste in music this weekend has reverted to that of sixteen-year-old Kara, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out why. *sigh* I was so moody back then. Hopefully this regression stops with my musical preferences, and hopefully I'll snap out of it soon. It's almost impossible to get anything done with these vaguely whiny acoustic rock songs blaring in my ears. They are enough to suck away all of my time and energy, and suddenly it has been 3 hours and I haven't moved a muscle other than the ones that expand and contract with every pining sigh.

Oh, to be sixteen again.

The One Day in February That Doesn't Make Me Want to Punch Babies

Ok.

Fine.

February might have one redeeming quality.

Unfortch, in The Durkin house, this one quality only lasts about one day.

Or about one hour of one day.


Mom took a box of the thin mints and a box of the tagalongs and "hid" them so we wouldn't finish every last cookie in one sitting, but we all know "hid" them is code for put them in an easy-to-see spot in the freezer.

Normally, this disappearing act might bug, but not today. Because today is my last day of sugar and/or eating out until spring break. Swimsuit season, and all that. {Cause, you know, I am going to be bringing my swimsuit to Michigan. Obviously.} So I am going to eat girl scout cookies and Five Guys {!} to my little hearts desire tonight.

And tomorrow, well, tomorrow I won't.

In other less delicious news, I thought I had to work tonight, and once again valiantly tried to pawn my shift on my coworkers. There were no takers, however, so I resigned myself to writing my entire English paper tomorrow before its midnight deadline, pinned on my flair, and dragged myself to Red Robin. I walked in and looked at the floor chart to see which of the lower level team member sections I would be gracing with my presence for the night, only to find out that I wasn't even on the schedule. My bad. I walked out, immensely pleased with my newfound night off. And if you're thinking "Well great, now she can work on her paper!" then you and I must have never met in real life. Because of course I'm not going to work in my paper. I am going to eat girl scout cookies on the couch and watch an endless string of TV.

Vampire Diaries + The Office + Project Runway.

And then I'll write my paper.

Maybe.

It depends on how much I want to go to ward softball tomorrow.

{Right now, not that much. But tomorrow, probably a lot. When you're as fickle as I am it's good to plan ahead for mood swings.}

How to Become a Writer

"First, try to be something, anything, else. A movie star/astronaut. A movie star/missionary. A movie star/kindergarten teacher. President of the World. Fail miserably. It is best if you fail at an early age- say, fourteen. Early, critical disillusionment is necessary so that at fifteen you can write long haiku sequences about thwarted desire. It is a pond, a cherry blossom, a wind brushing against sparrow wing leaving for mountain. Count the syllables. Show it to your mom. She is tough and practical. She has a son in Vietnam and a husband who may be having an affair. She believes in wearing brown because it hides spots. She'll look briefly at your writing, than back up at you with a face blank as donut. She'll say: "How about emptying the dishwasher?" Look away. Shove the forks in the fork drawer. Accidentally break one of the freebie gas station glasses. This is the required pain and suffering. This is only for starters."--Lorrie Moore

I Made A List!

I call it The Reasons Why My Wednesday Was Great {Read: Better than Yours} List

1)Today was dollar lunch day at the institute. I know what you’re thinking. Dollar institute lunch, does not a great day make. I have never once been to one of these things, nor did I feel particularly inclined to go this week. But! When I pulled into the institute parking garage I saw {and smelled} that they were already firing up the grills on the patio. Hamburgers. I love hamburgers.* I did a mental wallet check and remembered that I deposited all of my cash on Monday, so when I got into class I complained a bunch to khood about having no money and about wanting a hamburger and about finding some unsuspecting guy to buy me lunch. Luckily it never came to that. As class ended the girl in front of me, whom I have never talked to, turned around and insisted on giving me a dollar so I could buy lunch. **Awh** People are nice. Sometimes I forget that. So thanks, random girl who overheard my whining! I owe you! {P.S. The hamburger was so.good.}

2)After I devoured my hamburger out on the patio in the insanely lovely weather, I headed inside for better internet reception so I could book my plane ticket to Michigan! And guess what?! Said tickets were only $269 total. Roundtrip, nonstop, including taxes. Maybe I should always book plane tickets while inside a dedicated building. {As if I book plane tickets all the time. False. I’ve never done it before.} I am officially schedule to visit Sister from March 11-March 15. Words cannot describe how excited I am. Less than one month away!

3)Usually while spending time at the institute I head to the quiet study room so no one will talk to me. But today I was waiting for a call from my mom so I could get her vote of confidence before purchasing my tickets {I’m a baby, I know} so I had to sit in the regular study room where people love to chat and flirt and laugh. I sat at the only empty table, but there were bags there so I knew I would be joined by strangers eventually. And boy was I. And now I have two new friends, one of whom made me stand up and let him teach me how to swing dance with him in the middle of the room. And while that would usually cause me to, I don’t know, die of embarrassment, {I can't swing dance to save my life} today it just caused me to swoon. Go figure.

4)After school, I went to work. I was so not excited to go to work. I tried to give away my shift many, many times. But! It was the busiest Wednesday night ever. {Read: incredibly lucrative.} And! Some 35 year old guy eating dinner with his mom left me his phone number and instructions to call. My Red Robin uniform must have really been working for me tonight. ‘Twas a lovely ego boost, if I ignore the creep-factor.

And that is the end of my Wednesday. I mean, not really. I have lots o’ homework to do. But I might not do it. Why spoil a good thing?

I hope your day was equally lovely. But don’t feel bad if it wasn’t. This day was a very long time coming.

Good night, friends.

*Speaking of hamburgers, I have been dying to try the new Five Guys that opened by my house since Sister and her fiancé raved about it over Christmas break. And in retrospect, the most disappointing part of the fact that nothing ever developed between Shoe Guy and I last month {although he did, eventually, answer my text} is the fact that we talked about going to Five Guys together, and now that he only barely acknowledges me in church {which is completely awkwardly confusing, btdubs, considering nothing ever happened between us!} I guess I am going to have to find someone else who shares my love of hamburgers to go with me.

Writing Myself Into Happiness

I'm recuperating.

That is what I call it when I lie in bed for 3 straight hours doing absolutely nothing.

No, really.

I am recharging after yesterday.

Yesterday. The longest day I have had in ages. The most exhausted I have been in ages. The most aggravatingly frustrated I have been in ages. The fuzziest my brain has been in ages. The least amount of time and attention I have put into a college English paper in... ever.

So today I am giving myself a break, and tomorrow I will faithfully return my nose to the grindstone.

And it turns out a break means allowing myself to just lie in bed and eat as many mini chocolate donuts straight from the bag as I want. It means allowing myself to daydream of spring break, because really, 4 weeks ain't that many. It means allowing myself to not pay attention to my cell phone. It might even mean allowing myself to take time for a run.

In short, it means allowing myself to take a break from unhappy.

---

"I think and think and think, I‘ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it." -Jonathan Safran Foer

Can & Can't

I think sometimes life boils down to can and can’t.

Please bear with me as I attempt to explain what I mean.

Can and can’t comes into play when there is no should and shouldn’t.

For example, when I was a senior in high school, trying to decide between U of A and ASU {and BYU, briefly} I became convinced that there was a should and a shouldn’t. I was obsessed with the idea of a “right” answer, and I did everything in my attempt to find it. I made lists and I weighed and mulled and surveyed and I prayed. I prayed incessantly. I felt sure that an answer would come; that something would happen to let me know which school was right and/or which school was wrong.

I waited.

And I waited some more.

I became frustrated, and I gave up.

{Almost}

I started praying again.

And finally, I decided to just make a choice. I decided to pick one.

I picked U of A.

And then I prayed.

And I felt good about my choice.

U of A was my should. ASU was my shouldn’t.

I have since come to view things differently. I don’t think that circumstance necessarily had a right answer and a wrong one. Maybe it had a good answer and a better one, but I don’t think there was a definite shouldn’t.

It was more of a will and a won’t.

I will go to U of A

And I won’t go to ASU.

Another example.

I like to ask for advice. When I have a problem I want to know what you think about it. I want to know what you would do in my situation. Because, let’s face, I would rather do just about anything in the world than make a decision on my own.

I don’t always like to ask for advice from those closest to me, but often I do. And when I don’t, I like to read books and quotes and scriptures, looking for advice anywhere I can find it.

In the last 30 hours, I have asked no less than 5 people {maybe more} for advice about 1 situation.

Whether or not I take their advice, is a will or won’t.

I don’t know what I should do, and I don’t know what I can do, but I generally know as they are speaking to me if I will take their advice, or if I won’t. And generally speaking, the more people I ask for advice the more advice I won’t end up taking. If I don’t like what I hear, I ask someone else. Generally.

But can and can’t comes into play when there isn’t a should or a shouldn’t, and when I refuse to choose between will and won't.

What can I handle?

What can’t I handle?

What can I justify?

What can’t I justify?

Too vague?

Let’s see.

When I was contemplating transferring to ASU this past summer, I realized {much to my dismay} there probably was no should, and no shouldn’t. There was no will or won’t. There was me, unable to justify moving back to Tucson. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

I can’t move back.

I said.

Can & Can’t.

Do you see?

Figuring out can and can’t might be the most difficult for me. What, exactly, am I capable of? Even more daunting, what am I not capable of?

3 hours ago, this was my can and can’t:

I can be there for him when he needs me. I can drop what I am doing to sit in a dark parking lot with him, talking about life and pretending to be something we aren’t.

I can’t, however, pretend like that moment didn’t change anything. Because it did.

But that was 3 hours ago, and now I’m not so sure.

My can’t feels less like a can’t and more like a I don’t want to. Not exactly a won’t, not even a shouldn’t.

So.

What do I do now?

Today and Tonight

Today, church was lovely.

Today, my talk went off without a hitch.

Today, I got to talk about Love; about the greatest act of Love that has ever or will ever exist.

Today, I felt that Love.

Today, I got to wear my fabulous new dress.

Today, I was all smiles and sunshine.

And then today turned into tonight.

Tonight, I talked to my mom.

Tonight, I cried for the second time.

Tonight, I listened to T.Swift on repeat.

Tonight, I talked to my best friend for the first time in ages. I miss her so much when she is in Boston. And sadly, neither of us had good news to report.

Tonight, I am not writing my paper that is due Tuesday. And I am not reading Frankenstein, even though I am supposed to finish it by tomorrow.

Tonight, I don't care about school.

Tonight, I want to wallow.

Just like every other Sunday night.

I don't know why Sunday nights are so hard for me. It's certainly not the first time this has happened. I go to church and have a perfectly wonderful day, and then I come home and begin to think about facing the real world.

I realize there is so much coming.

So much homework. So much life. So many to-do lists. So much stress.

It's crippling.

I can't tell you exactly when Sunday became both my favorite and least favorite day of the week all rolled in one.

There is something distressing about getting to spend a few hours in harbor only to know that sooner rather than later I am going to have to start all over again. So I procrastinate, hoping to put Monday morning off as long as humanly possible.

It's daunting.

And I'm already tired.

But I addressed this today in church. I know I don't have to be so tired. And I certainly don't have to be tired alone. I just have to be willing to ask for help.

---

Thus, the Savior has suffered not just for our iniquities but also for the inequality, the unfairness, the pain, the anguish, and the emotional distress that so frequently beset us... There is no physical pain, no anguish of soul, no suffering of spirit, no infirmity or weakness that you or I ever experience during out mortal journey that the Savior did not experience first. You and I in a moment of weakness may cry out, "No one understands. No one knows." No human begin, perhaps, knows. But the Son of God perfectly knows and understands, for He felt and bore our burdens before we ever did. And because He paid the ultimate price and bore that burden, He has perfect empathy and can extend His arm of mercy in so many phases of our life. He can reach out, touch, and succor-- literally run to us-- and strengthen us to be more than we could ever be and help us to do that which we could never do through relying on our own power. --Elder David A. Bednar

confession #7

when i am married, i want my husband to know me well enough to know 2 things.

i want him to know that i want flowers on valentine's day.

i also want him to know that i don't want those flowers to be red roses. i know red roses are "romantic," the ultimate valentine's day flowers, but i want the man who loves me to know that i want daisies, or lilies, or sunflowers, or wildflowers instead.

The Things I'll Do For a Boy, Pt. 1

Spend my Friday night freezing my butt off in a softball dugout, cheering on my ward in our church games.


{One thing I won't do for a boy, however, apparently includes actually playing in said games. Maybe next week.}

Move On If You're Already Sick of the Fourteenth.

To be perfectly honest, I haven't really given Valentine's Day much thought.

I've given Sunday, February 14 a lot of thought, but only because I am speaking in church.

Valentine's Day itself, on the other hand?

Not so much.

There is one exception to this rule however.

That exception seems to be when I log into Blogger.

Nearly every blog I read has devoted at least one entry in the past few days to Saint Valentine and/or being single and/or being in love.

So although while out in the real world among the real people I have not spent much time stewing over my feelings for this year's big day or my feelings for the holiday in general, every dang time I sit down at the computer it is practically inescapable.

{Yeah, I read too many blogs. Moving on...}

And then I settle in to write, all thoughts of the post I spent my entire linguistic discussion crafting swept from my brain in favor of hearts, broken and whole.

And here is my unsolicited two cents.

Being single on Valentine's Day, is, in my opinion, not that big of a deal.

Unless!

Unless, of course, there is a specific someone you want to be un-single with. Because if that's the situation, then, yeah, Valentine's Day is an extra-crappy day in what is most likely a long string of days that make you want to smash your cellphone to pieces and commit yourself a week spent in bed.

And now that I have taken the time to assess my feelings and write them down for posterity, you might be wondering what my feelings are in regards to Sunday, February 14 in a strictly non church-going sense.

Well.

Let's just say it might be better to keep my cellphone away from me. Because it's newish. And I don't have insurance. And I'd hate to spend Monday gluing together the pieces.

love cures.

I got my first valentine of the year.

It's from my mom.

In case you can't tell, it says "Yes" on it.

It tastes like a SweetTart.

{I'm assuming.}

It makes me happy.

So, I guess I was wrong when I said this year I wouldn't have a valentine.

I'm luckier than I give myself credit for.

This picture is exhibit a.

<3

Too Much Food & A Happy Email

I can never remember if the saying goes:

Feed a fever, Starve a cold

or

Starve a fever, Feed a cold

WebMd said that neither is true, as starving yourself is never the answer.

WikiAnswers said a lot of contradicting things. Twas confusing.

But I sincerely hope it is the latter, because today I have eaten just about everything. And the kitchen sink.

For example, I drank an entire pitcher of orange juice. By myself. Before 3 pm. I am currently working on pitcher 2.

I also ate going away cake for my favorite expo at Red Robin, a cup of chicken tortilla soup from Red Robin, and am enjoying a chicken walnut sandwich from Paradise Bakery as I type this. I don't know what has gotten into me, but I am going to chalk it up to medicinal purposes. Naturally.

Oh, and remember today when I ditched class?

Well, I checked my email this afternoon to find this lovely gem from my professor:

ENG 312 Students:

Sorry I forgot to send around the attendance sheet today.

On Monday, February 15th, I’ll send around two attendance sheets, one for Wednesday, February 10th, and one for Monday, February 15th.

Sorry about the inconvenience.

For those people better than me this might create an ethical dilemma.

For me, it's just conformation that I made the right choice.

I mean, come on.

Would you really expect anything else?

All the Durkin Apples Fell Pretty Close to the Tree

Right now, I am playing hookie.

I went to school for my first two classes and then decided to skip my last two while sitting in lecture.

As I walked to my car I made a mental list of all the reasons why it is perfectly ok that I ditch today.

Here is what I came up with.

*I am really sleepy.
*I am a little sick. {i.e. my throat is kinda sore...}
*It is raining.
*I have to go to work at 5.
*I have homework I should do before work.
*I am craving orange juice and soup. {Still working on this one.}
*I texted my friend and told him I was considering going home and if I didn't hear from him by the time the class ended in 15 minutes, I would take that as a sign he approved. It took him 22 to get back to me, and I was already walking up the parking garage stairs.
*Sometimes, you just need to not go to class.

It's good, no? I especially like the fact that I stepped outside, turned to khood, and said "It's raining! Of course I can't go to class today!"

I came home to find Dad and Michael asleep/watching tv on the couch.

At noon. On a Wednesday.

I guess the entire Durkin family is playing hookie today.

That's what happens when it rains.

Dedicated To All My Non-Arizonan Friends.

Apparently, certain parts of the country are being buried in snow. Or something.

Out here in AZ, things are a little different.

Here is a picture I snapped with my camera phone today while I visited the temple with khood.


{I was wearing a skirt, tights, and a short sleeved shirt, by the way. We could both smell the flowers. It was enough to make me forget I hate hate hate this month- for now. It was almost enough to make me think I love love love it.}

I'm speaking in church on Sunday, and I'm a little nervous. I'm not actually nervous for the standing-up-in-front-of-people-part, but I am nervous for the preparing-a-meaningful-talk-part. I just pray that I will find something worthwhile to say.

Oh, and as an update to yesterday's post, I'll tell you that I did finish my homework. I turned in the first draft of my first big writing assignment for my creative nonfiction class. And, long story short, I kind of hate it. At least I have two weeks to "revise." What that really means is I have 2 weeks to rewrite an entire paper. If only someone will remind me to start before 1 week + 6 days from now. Remind me of today and how sleepy I was and how my throat was so sore, probably from lack of sleep. But don't say probably. Tell me it definitely was from lack of sleep. Also remind me that not getting enough sleep makes you die sooner. That's true, right?

Hello, 1:30 AM.

If this is a preview of the semester, count me out.

Today I got home from school at 5.

I started my homework at 11:30.

I'm still trying to figure out what happened during those 6.5 hours. The lost hours, I am calling them in my head.

I took a night nap. I took a bath. I ate cookies and milk. I wrote in my journal. I texted. A lot. I debated the finale of the Harry Potter series. I quoted all the best Tobias Funke lines I could think of. I sat in my bed doing nothing but stewing in my own confusion and lack of motivation. A LOT. I moaned and I complained. I blog stalked. I facebook browsed. I thought. And I rethought. I allowed my heart to break for him, and to ache for me. I gave myself up as a lost cause. I set my alarm for 4 am. I rethought. Again. I took another night nap. I begrudgingly got to work, because what else could I do.

So now my alarm is set for 6:30, because I didn't finish everything. I don't like myself very much right now, but I will absolutely loathe myself in 5 painfully short hours.

Sometimes, I don't know how I do it. I don't know how I can be wrong almost every single time. How many nights like this do I need to have before I learn to suck it up and get to work.

Apparently more than this, because I am writing in here instead of sleeping or working.

I wonder what it is like to live in your world.

Living in mine almost never makes sense.

confession #6

even though the ex and i were together for a year and a half, thanks to my stellar breakup timing, i have never had a valentine. so don’t worry about me, this year won’t be any lonelier than any of the others.

confession #5

a follow up.

today, while driving to work, linking park came on the radio again. naturally, i turned the volume up and simultaneously laughed at myself. but then, today while at work, chester bennington totally came in to eat. at red robin! in gilbert! crazy. i didn't even recognize him, but once i was informed who it was, the seventh grader in me did a mini-happy dance.

true story.

On My Way in A Cloud of Dust

Tomorrow, I road trip down south for the night.

I won’t be gone long.

In fact, I will be in Tucson for less than 24 hours {more like 12} but I.cannot.wait.

Regan turns 20 this weekend, and you can bet we’re going to make the most of my short trip. We'll eat, laugh, and talk ourselves silly, joined by some other girls I have been missing dearly.

Should be a blasty blast.

{Plus, you know, there is that other thing I am looking forward to before I hit the road.}

Enjoy your weekend. They don't come around every day.

Peace in February

The last couple of days have been better than the few before that.

Yesterday I stopped by the temple on my way home from school and just walked around the grounds and sat down for awhile in an attempt to get my mind off some things that have been getting me down lately. I felt better the second I stepped out of my car. I brought along my iPod so I could listen to church music but I didn’t end up turning it on. It was so peaceful to sit in the 70 degree sunshine and listen to nothing but the birds chirp and the calmly running water near the reflection pool. It was almost enough to make me forget it is still the first week of February. There were not a lot of people there, but I did pass a few adorable old couples, walking slowly and holding hands in that way that quietly but clearly let me know they're in love. It was sweet. Luckily, that kind of sweetness doesn’t make my heart ache the way it did back in September; it makes me smile. And I think that is something to be grateful for.


{It is pictures and days like this that make me realize I might have accidentally fallen in love with Arizona somewhere down the line. I'm driving with the windows rolled down and admiring blossoms on trees instead of fighting my way through the snow. And I kind of like it.}

Girl, Don't You Lose Your Heart Yet

"...but one of the mixed blessings of being twenty and twenty-one and even twenty-three is the conviction that nothing like this, all evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, has ever happened to anyone before... Nothing was irrevocable; everything was within reach. Just around every corner lay something curious and interesting, something I had never before seen or done or known about...I could make promises to myself and to other people and there would be all the time in the world to keep them. I could stay up all night and make mistakes, and none of it would count."

--Joan Didion