Homesick

It's calling my mom three times in two days,
talking about nothing, a river of words
hoping that she'll tell me it's going to be alright"
just one more time.

It's aching to be held while pushing their arms away,
mine tight against my chest so nothing falls out
wishing for someone to love me "as is"
no reasons needed.

It's smiling because I have to, no tears allowed
nodding in the right places, agreeable bobble-head
holding back my own "...self"
cause no one wants to hear it.

It's tired and lonely, a bittersweet tang
of goodness and warm summer camping trips
the who I was and who I am
in an uneasy alliance

Hats

I was recently called as the relief society president in my ward. This has been an adventure--a frightening and overwhelming and clarifying one that shows me my flaws and weaknesses in brilliant blinding clarity. Needless to say, it is not a role I am very good at just yet. Maybe after seventeen years (a term I am not willing or able to fill) I would figure it out a little, but as for now I am just going to have to let the Lord carry the brunt of everything. A friend suggested that I might do better if I had a "relief society president" hat. A personality I could put on to fulfill my relief society duties--one that is always happy and willing and accepting and righteous. In physical therapy school I had a professor who suggested the same thing as we became physical therapists--that we put on a hat that was confident, accepting, patient, wise, and never let anything or anyone get to them. I've had the same advice with regards to dating. Put on a hat--make it a cute one--one that is adorable and lovable and not too capable cause guys don't like that, but one that is still smart and perpetually cheerful, and unquestionably a good cook.

Here's the thing tho--I really don't have a hat head. I put one on and my frizzy hair flies everywhere and betrays me for exactly who I am--me.

I only know how to be me.Sure I am usually cheerful and happy but sometimes I have a bad day too--one where I can't smile at everybody. Sometimes I am tired, sometimes I am grumpy, sometimes I don't know what to say or how to say it, sometimes there are things I just don't want to do even if I end up doing them, sometimes I don't know how to help people the way I need to. Sometimes... more like always... I am awkward around guys--especially if they are guys I kind of like. Hat or no hat, I am just plain me. I don't know how to be anyone else and trying to change my personalities at the drop of a hat (bwahaha for cheesy puns) is not something I am comfortable with nor is it something I feel like I have the ability to do.

I think that I would rather improve my personality than my hat collection anyway.

Why I Hate the Dating Game

So here comes- another estrogen-driven rant on dating, so please consider yourself warned.

So I hate dating. I hate that there are rules and guidelines that everyone is just suppose to magically know and even though these rules seem to change every few years everyone is just suppose to secretly keep up with said adjustments and clandestinely figure out the appropriate way to sell ourselves to the opposite gender in a way that is both memorable and adorable while still being, at least on some level, genuine (as one who constantly has a hard time keeping up with the secret dating rules, I cannot tell you what level of genuine is considered appropriate, but my guess would be somewhere around 72% from what I have seen). All this is just to even begin dating, never mind the procedural processes and ending etiquette.

I hate stupid sayings like "be yourself, but make sure it's your best self" like I have a closet of selves that I can pull my Sunday best out of instead of just being me all the time. "You marry who you date" is another one--I don't date very much, and I don't marry anyone. Or, "beauty is only skin deep" paired with "you are beautiful inside and out". Granted, having gone through a cadaver lab I definitely see the beauty in muscle and sinew and organs but I somehow don't think that is what people are talking about here. The real question is, then, why all the anatomy analogies?

I hate trying to guess what I should do next, who I should smile at and when I should not smile, when it's alright to giggle and when someone is being completely sappily serious and giggling not only hurts feelings but burns bridges as well. Come to that, I hate being sappy and serious anyway, and I'm not crazy about bridges or fire either. I hate not knowing if someone likes me or not. I know that is stupid and juvenile and middle school, but there you go. More than the perpetual singledom it's the uncertainty that really drives me crazy. What if he doesn't like me, or even more scary, what if he does? And if he stinking does, why doesn't he ask me out?

I like my rules--they may not be right, but they are simple and easy to understand.
IF he likes you, he will ask you out for at least 2 dates--otherwise don't waste time what-if-ing about anything.
IF dating someone feels hard and awkward and you don't really feel like you can talk to them after said 2-3 dates, it's probably not worth it. Don't waste each others' time.
IF you are in the same ward, think twice--peeing in your own pool makes everything more complicated.
IF you are friends first, things tend to work better.
And most importantly: IF you are unhappy being single, you will probably be unhappy in a relationship. Just be happy and date other happy people. That is all.

Great rules right? Why can't I make the rules? I need to have a serious discussion with the secret dating rules creation committee and submit some very reasonable revisions to their complicated mess. My sayings would be things like- "if you don't ask me out I'll never know if you like me" or "the friend-zone is actually a fun place full of... friends!" or "a smile and a hello is not the same thing as 'I think you are the one' " or my personal favorite, "just say what you stinking mean, dang it."

My Irrational Fears, aka This may be ridiculous but...

Cause sometimes it just feels better to release irrational fears into the universe:


I will never ever pay off my loans. Like the widow of Zarephath whose oil never ran out no matter how much she burned, my debt will build and build no matter how much extra I pay off each month.

Toy Story is based on some level of truth and my dolls and toys all feel  abandoned and misused because I never wrote my name on permanent marker on any of them.

I will be single until I'm at least sixty seven, and then if I try and have kids at that point they will come out all shriveled and wrinkled, and I will be dead before the kid graduates college.

I will be sick forever. I won't ever ever get over this cold. I will be coughing up pink and purple phlegm until I die.

A spider will come and lay eggs in my ear while I sleep while I'm camping. I believe this one so thoroughly that I often sleep with my covers over my head whenever I camp.

I am going to make a stupid mistake at work someday and be sued and never be able to practice PT again.

The Arizona water is so bad that I might get a parasite someday from drinking it.

My parents only tell me they are proud of me because they know about my fragile self-esteem and that I need their approval.

I will never learn how to cook and my kids will have to grow up on coconut covered red-wine vinager and raspberry jam baby carrots.

I am actually exceptionally stinky and ugly and everyone knows it except for me. Maybe that's why I will be single until I'm 67...

My personal 10 commandments of health

What I have learned from my recent health issues (whether I can follow them or not, these are my new goals):

1. Eat more- because eating is heavenly, and your body doesn't do so well without food
2. Stress less- because there are things I can change, and things I can't and stressing doesn't change either type
3. Live in the moment- because the next moment will come whether you enjoy this one or not
4. Smile- it really does make you and those around you feel better.
5. Eat dark chocolate- because it's delicious, and everyone needs a little bit of sweet darkness in their lives
6. Learn to accept the help of others- because sometimes it's too hard to do everything on your own
7. Sleep at night- because if you don't you will find yourself sleeping other times, and that can cause problems
8. Read your scriptures first- cause otherwise you might not make time, and it's a great way to wake up
9. If you're body is doing something because you're too stressed out, don't stress about your body doing it cause that just makes whatever it's doing that much worse. I'm sad to say a doctor had to tell me that one.
10. It's alright to take a sick day! Sometimes your body needs you more than everyone else.
11. And one to grow on- sometimes "me time" is some of the most important time of your week. Take it!

The one that runs away

The weight in your sigh aches my shoulders.
The plea in your eyes stings mine.

And beneath the fear and frustration
under the why-not's and the how-come's
shackled forever to the what-if's

My forever is shackled.

And forever, the why's are not,
and the hows won't come,
and I'm frustrated about the ifs.

The blame in your shrug flogs my  reason.
The tension in your fingers burns mine.

But I smothered your hopes and my own--
I watched them wriggle and whine and wail
Plea and prostrate and protest,

until all was still.

And still, my protests plea,
and my wails wriggle,
and my wine prostrates.

Until my shoulders are sore.

Living by equation

I like to think of myself as a scientist. I love logic and neatly tied up ends and organized, non-nonsensical flow. That is exactly why I went into the medical field instead of politics or teaching--there are variables no matter what field you work in, but muscles and bones and nerves have variables that are more predictable and tractable than emotions or economic trends or whatever else everyone else deals with in their given professions.

Still, some things should not be governed by formulaic logic. A sunset, for example, has most of it's beauty because of it's uniqueness. The amount of dust in the air, the angle from which you see it, the cloud coverage, even the temperature in the air combine for a symphony of variables that create a breathtakingly original experience every single time. Try and analyze it too hard, fit it into a procedural formula full of logic and equations the magic is lost. Some things just have to happen without over-thinking them.

But what do you do when you find your emotions calculated out by carefully measured equations? Living by formula, if you will. What if you turn around and realize that you are smiling and dancing and laughing on cue instead of because you want to? How do I de-structure what feels like a contrived facade into something genuine and natural? and how much of it really is scripted and how much is natural? When I was a little girl I use to imagine that God must be unbelievably busy writing scripts for everyone, and wonder what was in my own script--what unexpected new characters, changes of scenery, or irony would present itself? Maybe living by script doesn't have to be a bad thing at least for now when my skills lack spontaneity and charm.

And really, I do like equations. They are clean. They are predictable and familiar. Combine x and y in a specific formulaic relationship and you will always be able to eventually come up with z. Always. I suppose, then, even the formula has an element of mystery and art--I will simply have to wait until I see what z really is to know for sure.