RIP Nick Askew

He will be missed.

How I Take Care of Myself

• Essie "Really Red"
• Beyonce on repeat
• Polka dots
• The beginnings of a Friday Night Lights rewatch
• Constantly mentally planning a dance routine
• Pretty things on Tumblr and Pinterest
• Writing 
• Surrounding myself with positive people
• G-chat and phone calls
• Leopard print flats
• Laughing
• Napping
• Cafe Rio
• Cowboy boots
• Plans for a future kitten (named Fiyero, obviously)
• Magazines
• Crying when I feel like it
• Living a little
• Empty notebooks and Pentel RSVP pens (nothing else)
• Kate Middleton
• Silent prayers and out-loud prayers
• Plain Hershey's chocolate bars
• Twirling
• Practicing karaoke in the car
• Spotify Premium. It's worth it.
• Unplugging
• Frequent Target trips
• Window shopping
• Stretching
• Breathing

Inspired by The Wild and Wily Ways of A Brunette Bombshell

Big Changes

I'm moving to Utah! It's been a whirlwind couple of days, but thanks to help from Darrian I got a job at Radi8 Creative in Sandy. I'm so excited to start working there. It's an amazing company. 

So post-grad life has definitely been an interesting experience. If you remember, I moved to Las Vegas for a job at a PR agency, and after a few months I got let go. It was a huge blow to my pride, but I pulled together and got a job as a communications specialist at a tech startup four days later. There are a lot of challenges with a startup, and one of them is being dependent on a financial backer. Long story short, I switched jobs within the company and the startup went under. And then after that (and a lot of it I can't say because of legal issues and because I honestly don't know) the financial backer, my new boss, stopped paying me. I haven't gotten paid since Thanksgiving. 

I didn't tell a whole lot of people because I was embarrassed. I mean, I graduated from one of the top PR programs in the country, and eight months after graduation I'm on round 2 of being unemployed. I felt like everyone else had their life together and I was just not with the program. 

I can't lie and say that I handled this trial very well. There was a lot of crying and not sleeping and freak outs and anxiety and anger. I'd like to say that I trusted the Lord and was full of faith, but that's not the case for the most part. I was angry, and I felt like I was doing everything right but still not getting what I wanted. But when I humbled myself and really trusted Heavenly Father to just help me day to day, I was able to reach out to more people and be open to help, which is how I got the job at Radi8 Creative. 

So Utah, I'm back like I forgot something. See you Saturday.

I Was Wrong

I thought I could do this. I mean, it's not like I'm surprised. I knew the semester ended in the middle of December and all the student teachers would be gone. I even joked about being excited about it at the beginning and sometimes wished for it when things were shaky. I thought I could do a two-month fall fling and bounce back like nothing happened.

But that was before weekends filled with harmonica playing and half marathons. Before I earned part-ownership of a big black Iowa sweatshirt. Before I won his roommates over with chocolate chip cookies delivered weekly. Before my purse filled up with mints from the quaint restaurants we went to. Before all the dancing. Before I made him hike all the way from MGM Grand to The Bellagio and back just because I wanted to see the fountains. Before I got used to his arm around my headrest whenever we drove anywhere. Before long talks over "fancy drinks" from Starbucks or while walking around his complex. Before I realized I finally found someone who is late more than me and gets lost just as easily as I do.

That was also before yesterday, when I found out it was all a lie. A big fat lie. I mean, that's the only explanation I can think of for why I would have adorable texts in my phone one day and a conversation that was so "casually cruel in the name of being honest" (to quote Taylor) the next. You can fake two months right? You can pull out chairs and open doors and say adorable one-liners for two months, it's not that hard.

And I have to blame myself. I mean, some girls complain about being "guarded" and having "walls." Nope, not me. My heart has a giant welcome mat on it for anyone who feels like getting close. Come in, stay a while. Make a giant mess and ruin everything? Don't worry, give me a couple months and I'll be open for business again like nothing ever happened. I wish I had some kind of self-preservation instinct that would kick in when red flags appear, but I don't.

So here I am, two months later, alone with the promises of Skype and FaceTime erased. And I have a big pile of those mints that I'll probably throw out the window as a dramatic gesture.

I wish I'd kept the sweatshirt.

They Get Me

So lately I've been thinking a lot about my favorite television and movie characters,  and why I like them. And after a lot of thought (read: I have a long commute) I realized that they're my favorites because they are a lot like me, and I have a lot to learn from them. So without further ado I give you, the people that get me:

Kathleen Kelly, You've Got Mail

My love for Kathleen is no secret (it's actually my love for everything remotely related to Nora Ephron, RIP) and it's because I see a lot of myself in her, and a lot of what I want to be. She's the product of maybe too many Jane Austen novels (like me). And she's quirky and funny, charming and enchanting, as they say in the movie. So maybe she's more of an aspiration, but I'd like to think I'm like her.

"Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life. Well, valuable, but small. And sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around?"

Literally me.

Rapunzel, Tangled

I was always at a loss when people asked me which Disney princess I was most like. I'm not as bookish as Belle, and my parents put too much of the fear of God in me for me to identify with Ariel. So...that leaves me with Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty basically, and I hate cleaning and Sleeping Beauty scared me too much as a kid.

That was until Tangled came out, and finally we have a princess who is 100% insane. I remember watching the part where Rapunzel argues with herself over whether she should go back to the tower, and everyone was laughing and I was just like "this sounds like a conversation I have with myself every time I'm about to make a big purchase. Or choosing what clothes I want to wear. Why are they laughing like this is not the most relatable thing in the world?"

Elliot Reid, Scrubs

I had a boyfriend in high school who said I was Elliot in real life, which I can't 100% disagree with. I can be super competitive, even about things that don't matter, and I'll be the first to admit that I have quirks on quirks on quirks. Like I had to take notes alternating blue pen and black pen, otherwise the whole system would shut down and I had to go buy a new notebook and start from scratch.

I promise I'm not a crazy person.

Jenna Maroney, 30 Rock

Ok, this is mostly a joke, but I wouldn't have spent this much time thinking/writing this post if I weren't at least a little bit like Jenna. I wouldn't even have a blog if I didn't have some Jenna-ness in me.

Tami Taylor, Friday Night Lights

Let's just say, my use of "y'all" has increased now that Tami has made it socially acceptable. Tami Taylor is my everything. She's tough as nails, but stays kind and caring. And homegirl kills it in her cowboy boots, which is why we're pretty much the same person.

"Don't call me lady, hate that. Thanks so much."
That's probably something I would say if the guy at the deli was giving me attitude.

Music

I've always been intrigued by a certain part of my patriarchal blessing. My blessing is very specific about teaching my children music and having music be an important part of my home. While I've played piano and violin since I was little, music hasn't been the center of my life the way I know it has for other people. So I was confused about why music was mentioned several times in my blessing.

It hit me today while I was listening to General Conference and following #ldsconf on Twitter. During the morning session the choir sang "Now Let Us Rejoice," and I tweeted "We'll love one another and never dissemble, but cease to do evil and ever be one." That song, and that line specifically, spoke to me just as much as any of the addresses during that session.

It's always been hard for me to express my testimony in words, even in writing. I can't explain it. I know Sam and Brittany (two of my favorite bloggers) have the amazing ability to put their faith into writing and I love them for it. I feel the Spirit, but when I try to talk about it, I can't do the experience justice.

I understand my blessing now. I might not be the best at expressing how I know that Heavenly Father is mindful of me during my trials (especially this week), but I can sing or listen or play the words "I'll strengthen thee, help thee and cause thee to stand/Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand."

And if my children ask about my feelings on the Atonement, the words of "Come Thou Fount" tells it a lot better than I ever could:

"Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of GodHe to rescue me from danger interposed His precious blood.Prone to wanter, Lord I feel it. Prone to leave the God I love.Here's my heart, oh take and seal it. Seal it for thy courts above."

I will work on expressing my testimony, but I know that for the times when I fall short, there will always be music make up the difference.

My mantra, designed by my sister, and also lines from a hymn, naturally.

Goodbyes Suck

I'm not good at goodbyes. That's not a secret. When my friend went into the MTC I was crying so much I had to get escorted out of the building by the little old grandmas. I bawled halfway through the security line at the Salt Lake airport before my internship last summer. So yeah, I'm just really not good at leaving.

I had to say goodbye to my best friend today. And it's kind of the worst.

Because in my super senior year, Ryan was literally the glue that held my hot mess life together. I really couldn't ask for a better person to have around.

I mean, who else would deliver New York Times for me when I was too tired? Or let me steal his jackets for days at a time? Or always let me use his chapstick and drink his water? Or warm up my feet and hands when they're cold (aka every minute of every day)? Or go through my box of chocolates and take a little bite of each one so I knew what flavor it is? Or bring me Diet Coke when I'm having a rough day? Or let me use him as a pillow during movies or road trips or most life situations? Or understands that when I say "Get these Cadbury Eggs away from me" I really mean "Take a couple out of the bag and give me one every couple of minutes." Or not get mad that there are constantly size-6 footprints on the inside of his car because I like putting my feet on the dashboard?

So if you happen to be traveling through Alaska this summer and see a baldy with chicken legs and no butt who wears a calculator watch and a fork ring, give him a huge hug for me because I miss him already.

Keep it Together

My mom has taught me a lot of things. She taught me how to swing and how to color inside the lines. She taught me how to make pizza dough and chicken pasta salad. She taught me to be good at memorizing: whether it's the thirteen original colonies or every word of "Aaron's Party (Come and Get It)," if you need something memorized I'm your girl.

But I think the most important thing she taught me was how to keep it together. How important it is to get up in the morning and do your hair, even if the world is crashing down around you. About, to quote Miranda Lambert, "hiding your crazy." About how you need to walk into a room and be sparkly (being sparkly is a Connor family phrase that means being charming in social situations, even if your life is in shambles, you just got done yelling at your kids, you are in a fight with your husband, the neighbor kid just carved her name into the side of your car with a rock, etc. I didn't realize this wasn't a normal phrase until I told a friend to go be sparkly in his interview. Whoops.)

I know as much as the next person that keeping it together isn't the easiest thing in the world. I remember once, during the summer of the big heartbreak, when I was laying on my bed crying. I missed D so much I could barely breathe and I kept waiting for that feeling of comfort that everyone talks about. Where they feel that someone come and put their arms around them, or a friend turns up out of nowhere with a plate of cookies.

It wasn't happening. I waited and waited. I was, to use another Connor family phrase, in a puddle. I'd used all my tears so I was just laying there. Then suddenly, I had a feeling. It wasn't a warm, fuzzy feeling. It was a voice in my head telling me to get off my ass (sorry for the language, the voice was a little sick of me by that point) and do something. It was a voice telling me to take a shower, put on lotion, paint my nails and go outside. It was telling me to keep it together.

I had to relearn this lesson recently. Sure, it's a lot more fun to gather your roommates around you for a good cry and ice cream binge. It's a lot easier to lay in your bed and, when you are forced to get up, put on a nasty tshirt and forget your makeup. But that's not what Linda taught me. She taught me to lose the drama and walk outside with my head held high. To go to the party and be sparkly, even if it's easier to sit in the corner.

And that's what I'm gonna do.