In vain I have struggled.

12/27/2012 The Lady 4 Comments

Horror. Utter horror. If the world was as it should be, exes would disappear once the relationship ended. Instead, they continue to haunt. One becomes anxious just going to the grocery store for the fear of bumping into an "Undesirable". While some have exes who simply lurk around the edges of their lives, mine seek me out. 

Mistletoe Kissing Prank

12/21/2012 The Blue Stocking 4 Comments

Another from The Charmer

12/20/2012 The Anti-Austen 5 Comments

BYU Insight

12/17/2012 The Anti-Austen 8 Comments

Guess who's on the front page of BYU Insight?

-The Anti-Austens

The Man with Many Hats

12/14/2012 The Lady 1 Comments

With finals week comes many an extraordinary event. But that's all over now. I'm finished with BYU and it's finished with me. It is one of the strangest feelings I have ever encountered. Now I must needs figure out what to do with my life. Teacher? Actress? Heart surgeon?

One of this week's more extraordinary events was a discussion I had with a classmate. I spent an entire semester in class with this guy and never really ever said more than "hello" to him, but then BAM! We sat in the hall and had a phenomenal discussion which took up most of the hour we had each set aside to study for exams. Who needs more time to study when great conversations can be had? I may not remember what my grades were by next month, but I am certain I will remember this conversation for many years.

We just sat there, our backs against the walls as we talked about our major, our lives, our ambitions. It was the best sort of connection. Then he said something that I'll never forget. "I like to think of myself as a man with many hats." He proceeded to tell me all the majors he had tried all the things he hoped to do, the reason he was in our major and what other majors he hoped to try afterwards. A man with many hats.

All I could think of was how exhausted I was by our conversation. It was like exercising for the first time after months of being sedentary or getting sprayed by a fire hose. Exhilarating and overwhelming all at once. I want to marry a man like that. Not particularly this man, but a man who feels like he does about his own life. That there is just too much to learn to take a break from it all.

I want a man who wears many hats. I am after all a woman with many faces.

Con Amor,
The Lady

I've always been one of those girls...

12/12/2012 The Romantic 4 Comments

I really should be studying right now. Or writing that 10 page research paper that I've put off far too long. But my bed is just so comfy, and my little space heater is lulling me to sleep along with the strains of Christmas music(oh stop it Michael) floating out of my computer speakers. I figured my only option as a means of staying awake was to blog... Enjoy. 


A couple weeks ago, I was sitting at my work computer day dreaming about Korea. Specifically day dreaming about teaching English there after graduation. My mind began to fill with images faster than I could think them.

-the kpop concerts
-the clothes shopping
-the crazy hairstyle I could finally have after being freed from the honor code
-the food
-the food
-the food
-pal'ing around with mission friends
-the food
-dancing!
-the food

 And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. All these day dreams involved me as a single person. For the first time in my life, I wasn't feeling this overwhelming desire to just settle down and be married.

My inner voice piped up then, "You are only 23. 23 is young. You don't want to get married right now! What's the big ruuuush?"

Suddenly I was liberated! How freeing and utterly strange it felt. I've always been one of those girls who wants to get married.

This isn't to say that I've sworn off marriage completely (don't worry about telling me I'm the bane of every General Authorities' existence, my best friend already took care of that). I just don't crave it the way I used to. There are so many things I want to do and become! Maybe that's a selfish way to look at things, but here's why I think it might be ok.

In thinking about this new outlook on dating I realized something: Since I've been home from my mission, I've been forgetting to look at the men as my life as people. Instead, I'd been looking at them as future eternal companion applicants. I've been seeing the men I met as check lists: Good major? check. Second language skills? check. Good style? not exactly a check, but moldable.

And no one deserves to be looked at in that way.


So readers, this is the new me. A Romantic who is grateful for her single-hood, and not trying for anything more for a long while. Here's to people being people, and not check-lists!

xoxo
-the Romantic

ps. with that being said, I think I have a date(the way he asked was a little ambiguous) to go see the midnight showing of The Hobbit tomorrow. But the new Romantic doesn't care if it's a date or not. Because either way, it's going to be a ton of fun. We're making shirts and everything.

Letter from The Charmer

12/11/2012 The Anti-Austen 2 Comments

{Insert clever title}

12/07/2012 The Lady 1 Comments

Dear Friendly Strangers,
I hope your finals are treating you well and are not making a mess of your mind like they are doing to me. I would give you some bit of juicy news, but honestly I can't remember the last time I saw a man. I've been shut up in my apartment studying and when I'm not there studying, I'm shoved into a solitary corner of the library studying.

Please do something fun (and only minutely scandalous) for me this weekend.

Con Amor,
The Lady

P.S. While I'm not thinking about papers,
I'm daydreaming about Benedict Cumberbatch.
Dreamy.

Reminiscing

12/04/2012 The Romantic 3 Comments

Recollections of my first kiss.

I had waited 19 years for this moment. 19 years to connect with someone in a way that both terrified and thrilled me at the same time. 19 years of wondering what it would be like. 19 years of waiting.

It had been about a week and half since his ardent declaration of affection. I was confused and bewildered by how new and wonderful it all felt: this being so aware of someone else.

If his arm wasn't slung around my shoulders, or if his fingers weren't interlaced with mine, then I could feel his gaze. The unphysical touch.

That night I met his grandpa. We watched a play. I watched him talk with family friends after. He seemed to be so enraptured by what they were saying. But his hand was always at my knee. Looking at him, I thought, "This is it. He's it..." My heart felt like it was going to burst, it was so full.

As we got into the car to drive home I said, "Let's not go home yet."

"Where do you want to go?" he queried.

Could he read my thoughts then? Could he see past the pretenses to the meaning in my eyes? Could he see what I wanted?

We drove through the canyon, a favorite spot of ours all summer. We parked the car and got out to walk around. It only took a few minutes of twigs snapping and owls hooting for me to be spooked enough to want to leave.

We got back in the car. He buckled his seat belt and slipped the key into the ignition. All his actions were quick and harried. He was nervous.

I turned to him in my seat. "You have got to be kidding me," I said. We were leaving! And I hadn't gotten what I had been waiting so long for!

That's when the dome light dimmed. I could only see his darkened silhouette across the car. I closed my eyes. I leaned towards him. I kissed his cheek, his beard scratchy against my lips. I kissed his cheek again, edging closer to that unknown territory of his mouth. I kissed his face again, this time even closer.

And suddenly his mouth covered mine. It felt so strange! Did I even like this? Rain drops started to fall against the car roof top.  His lips formed against the shape of mine. After a few seconds I pulled away. But I knew then. I liked it.

One of his hands still gripped the steering wheel, as he sat still and quiet, buckled in the driver's seat.

"I think I need a minute," he whispered.

I laughed. "Ok."


19 years was worth the wait.

xoxo
-the Romantic

Jane's Everywhere!

12/03/2012 The Blue Stocking 5 Comments

Since the TA and I broke up, things have remained relatively normal (ok it's awful) and that all changed last week. On Thursday, our office thought if would be a real hoot if we decided to move a couple of people around. That resulted in me sitting within one yard of the TA instead of down the hall. YAY. The best part is that neither one of us knows how to handle it. Now we see each other every day and we've fallen into this pattern of casual flirting without ever really talking.


On to other news: I have been following these video blogs for some time and I just think they are perfect for the Jane lover in all of us. They post new episodes twice a week and they're only like 4 minutes so it's an ideal length of time for a study break. Sure they're on episode 69, but don't let that stop you. It'll be a well-deserved procrastination hiatus from finals.



-The Bluestocking

With insufferable vanity had she believed herself in the secret of everybody's feelings.

11/30/2012 The Lady 8 Comments

I am ever the Emma. Always much too certain that I know whom everyone loves and whom everyone should love. And also much like Emma, I am always wrong. But that never stops me. Oh, no, it does not.

I received a great shock the other day when The Preacher dropped by my apartment to inform me that he had become engaged. ENGAGED! This means that he has managed to find, woo, and convince a woman to marry him in little less than two months. Naturally, I congratulated him on his great accomplishment, but I probably seemed more confused than ecstatic. It is very much like Mr. Elton's returning from London with a wife on his arm. Of course I am happy for The Preacher, he deserves to be happy, and if he has found someone who makes him happy, well then huzzah! But I am just utterly bewildered. Engaged? In less than two months? 

How is this accomplished?

I suppose I haven't been spending my time as wisely as I should. 

Con Amor,
The Lady

Of Zodiac Signs and Tickling

11/24/2012 The Romantic 3 Comments

Oh, where to start dear readers?

I'm still trying to figure out how a night that begin with such hope ended so dismally.

I think it may have started Wednesday night when Pacha texted me to confirm our date for the next day. There was nothing wrong with the way he texted me, or anything he said. It was just lacking in... a certain quick wit.

And yet I was still so hopeful for Wednesday night. Even after he texted to say he got caught up at work and that he'd be late, I was still hopeful.

I think it was after I opened the door Wednesday night to see Pacha wearing a sweatshirt that my heart fell a little. He confessed later that it was the only BYU apparel he had. But a little effort is always nice. Amirite?

Things got worse after we got into the car.

"So, where do you want to eat tonight?" he asked.

I swear, the next time a guy asks me that, I'm saying Tucano's. Or better yet, Chef's Table.

Here's why it's wrong to ask a girl that question guys: You are paying. We don't know what your budget is, or how much you want to spend on a date. Also, it shows a lack of planning. I get your trying to be nice. I do. But just show some initiative! 

After a few minutes of dancing around the topic he finally asked if we could go out for Asian food. I said yes, secretly hoping that we would be eating Korean food, and not Chinese. Chinese food always makes me sick. It's too greasy for my stomach to handle. Any other Asian food would have been better.

I was trying to cut the poor kid some slack. He was obviously nervous to be with me; as evidenced by his coming to a complete stop at a green light on the way to the restaurant.

When we walked into the restaurant I knew the rest of the night was doomed. It was a Chinese place. It was THE Chinese place that my favorite mission companion had told me was the location for one of her worst dates ever. Every bad date to get Chinese food happens at this place. Before we ordered, we read the zodiac place mats.

"So, what are you?" he asked.

"I'm a cobra," I answered. We glanced down to read the description. It mentioned something about unparalleled beauty. 

"Well, they got that part right," Pacha said.

Oh barf. He was already skating on thin ice after he'd put his hand on my thigh in the car. That comment had thinned it out even more.

The plan after dinner was to meet up with a group of people (including his brother who is in our ward) and go to the basketball game.

And here we see more lack of planning. The brothers didn't ask anyone else along. So guess who ended up on a weird plyg-date to the basketball game?

Yes. That's right. This girl. 

I wanted to talk to Pacha's brother to make it less awkward. But he was sitting on the other side of Pacha and my slightly deaf ears couldn't make out anything he said over the "roar of the cougars". That combined with the knots my stomach was in from the Chinese food made me less than chatty.

Right before Pacha's brother left ten minutes before the end of the game, they engaged in a little horse play by poking and tickling each other, as brothers are often wont to do. So, that wasn't the weird part for me. The weird part was when Pacha turned and asked me if I was ticklish as soon as he brother started walking down the Marriot Center steps.

"No," I said.

And then before I could even digest what was happening, HE PUT HIS ARM AROUND ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

I tried so hard not to physically shrink from his touch. But inwardly I panicked. My body just froze. The amount of physical interaction I've had with men since I've been home from my mission has been a big fat ZERO. What to do? I had thought he might try and put the moves on me, but I didn't prepare for what my reaction would be if actually happened.

"Are you sure you're not ticklish?" he flirted.

"Nope, not at all. Why? Are you going to try something right now?" I tried not to be too cold as I said that.

He gingerly pulled his arm away.

The game ended. The cougars killed it. Pacha, however, did not.

When he dropped me off, he got out of the car to give me a hug. But he didn't walk me to the door. I'm still confused about that one. But oh well.

Eternally single, but eternally yours,
the Romantic 

A Lady should be allowed to say no every once in a while

11/22/2012 The Blue Stocking 1 Comments

I’m Alive!

In other news, I think I mentioned that there was a certain someone in my ward who I liked me, but I didn’t like him and he was friends with my apartment. Well if I didn’t that last sentence was a complete summary.

The reason I bring him up is he is the first guy that I have ever said no to for a first date.

Now before you unleash your wrath of abhorrence at my dreadful behavior, let me explain the situation.

The World's Shortest DTR

11/21/2012 The Closer 4 Comments

Big weekend folks.

Mr. Manager came over on Sunday for dinner. We ate and chatted for an hour or so, and after we finished eating he was showing me a cut on his finger, so I went upstairs to get some ointment for it. When I came downstairs he had moved over to the living room and was sitting on the couch, so I went and sat by him.

We got his cut all bandaged back up and then he just put his arm around me, no shyness, just went for it. I leaned onto his shoulder and just kept talking with him, and was still fiddling with the ointment because I was so nervous. Meanwhile he listened intently to my stories and rubbed my arm. After a while of that he asked to see the ointment, and ended up setting it on the other side of him, and then taking my hand with his free hand.

At this point things started to open up in the conversation, he told me how much he likes me, and we started to talk about the various times we considered dating the other and never did anything about it. Apparently for a long time, he was convinced there was no way I would ever date him. As it turns out, we've both been fighting the same feelings for a while now. It wasn't long after this that we kissed, and it was fabulous.

Now Mr. Manager has never struck me as the romantic type... but as it turns out, he is sweet, and tender, and affectionate. And now that the walls are down, he is like a whole different guy, in all the best ways.

One of the times that he kissed me on Sunday, because yes, there were several, he paused and said "Just so you know, this means we're dating exclusively".

I woke up smiling the next day, and haven't really stopped smiling all week.

Yours Truly,

The Closer

Perks of Staying in Provo

11/21/2012 The Romantic 2 Comments

A summary of conversations taking place during my ward's "much&mingle" last Sunday:

RS secretary approaches the group of girls I'm sitting with...

RS secretary: Are you guys going to the girl's choice stake dance?

Blank stares by our group... 

RS secretary: Here's all the reasons you should go.... (as she started on the list of reasons why the stake dance was going to be "super fun" I stopped listening. It was like she morphed into the teacher on Charlie Brown. You've all had moments like this, yes?) 

 And then I saw a golden opportunity. 

Pacha, just standing there alone. 

Pacha and I have been in the same ward all semester. For the most part, our conversations haven't moved past general pleasantries. In fact, the Emma side of my personality has been trying to convince one of my best friends to date him. My encouragement to her on his behalf always fell on deaf ears. 

Which is pretty fortunate for me I suppose.

After Pacha's talk this last Sunday, something suddenly shifted.  Forget my friend, I decided that I should get to know Pacha better. 

Thus when the golden opportunity presented itself, I couldn't resist. I had to at least talk to him(something I don't do very often with men anymore). 

Me: Hey Pacha (I even touched his elbow here, you'd be so proud dear readers), I just wanted to tell you that I really appreciated your talk today. It was really good.

Pacha: Hey thanks. And I just wanted to tell you that your blog post (from my personal blog, don't worry) from this week meant a lot to me. I was having a rough day and it really picked me up.

Me: Yeah, of course! I almost didn't post it, so.... (I'm so eloquent sometimes) Anyway, you're just really great, so I'm glad it helped.

Pacha: You're really great too.... Can I get a hug?

Me: Uh yeah.... for sure.

We then proceeded to "hug it out" as you young people say. I promise it wasn't as awkward as this blog post makes it seem. 

Me: Hey, we should hang out sometime (my whole goal in going up to talk to him in the first place)!

Pacha: Actually, what are you doing on Wednesday? Will you be in town?

Me: Yeah, I'm sticking around.

He then got my number, and plans were made. Dinner and the basketball game. I only wish I had some sort of BYU apparel. What does one wear to a basketball game!?

Not to discount Mr. Lowe, because I do think he was somewhat interested in me, but I feel like this is my first real date since I've been home from the mission. Real date meaning a guy has asked me out based purely on his interest in me. No scheming on my part (or my stake president's). This is just because he thinks I'm great. And I can't help but be a little bit excited about that.

Happy Thanksgiving!

xoxo
-the Romantic

ps. Here's my new favorite song. Just because. 

Had Elizabeth been able to encounter his eye.

11/17/2012 The Lady 2 Comments

Characters in Jane Austen novels never touch. EVER. In the end when the characters finally get married, there is never a description of a kiss or an embrace, only a touch of the hand (if we're lucky). But there does seem to be a lot of love-darting eyes. Apparently, this was the way to let your fellow know that he was the one for you. Telling someone you loved them was simply a matter of giving the right look.

Will a snail's pace win the race?

11/14/2012 The Closer 2 Comments

Where's the nearest convent?

11/03/2012 The Romantic 7 Comments

For a moment try to imagine the most horrifically embarrassing thing that could ever happen to you on a date. Think for a minute about what would make you want to curl up in a cave and live there by yourself, with only your own filthy stench as a companion.

Ok, so maybe what happened last night wasn't quite that dramatic, but it was still pretty awful. 

Earlier yesterday, I started to feel the littlest of hints that my monthly guest would be arriving shortly (I was having cramps, just in case you needed me to spell it out for you). Little hints notwithstanding,  the timing of this monthly guest can still be so unpredictable. So, before leaving last night, I popped a few pain killers and packed a tampon in my purse. Simply as a precaution.

With our respective dates in tow, my friend Rosalind and I made our way to Mountain West Burrito. We stood in line, chatted. Nervous as I was, I'm afraid I didn't offer very much to the conversation  as Dante and I walked up to the cash register to order. I was already a little afraid of the moment being awkward because I was paying (things like that can be ambiguous when the girl asks the guy). So I quickly said our orders and reached inside my little purse to pull out my wallet.

As I pulled out my wallet, I felt something fly out of my bag. "Hm," I thought, "I wonder what that was." I opened my wallet. And then proceeded to look down. 

And there was my tampon. Just lying on the ground for all the world to see. I panicked as the person at the register looked at my expectantly. Dante was standing behind me, so I had no idea if he'd seen or not. Very discreetly, I inched my foot forward and placed it over the tampon and paid for dinner. As I shoved my wallet and then debit card back into my purse, I bent down and picked the blasted thing up as quickly and sneakily as I could and shoved it back into my purse.

MORTIFIED. I WAS MORTIFIED. When I turned to look back, Dante was getting us waters. So I have no idea if he saw.

But Rosalind and her date saw. Later, when Dante stepped into the bathroom, they applauded me for my quick thinking in stepping on it. However, I'm fairly certain another couple saw. So, there's really no way he couldn't have seen. Unless he really was looking at the menu the whole time like Rosalind and her date said.

I think the biggest irony is that I would find this completely hilarious if it happened to someone else. Or if I was with someone I wasn't trying desperately to impress. But it didn't. It happened to me. And it happened with Dante.

I tried to play it cool the rest of the night. I think he had an ok time. At least he enjoyed the movie we saw (Troll Hunter at the International Cinema). We hugged goodbye at the doorstep (we also hugged hello when I picked him up; a little different, but I'm not complaining).

After the date, I headed over to Rosalind's place to analyze everything (it's what girls do). Rosalind came to the conclusion that Dante was a "hunk" as well as being the "perfect man". I suddenly couldn't believe I actually had the audacity to ask someone like that out. As we continued to discuss the night, I did some math and realized that since Dante got to go on his mission at 18(mission president father) and came home just last January, it's still possible he's 20. And I also found out he's a freshman. Chances are he's probably not interested in a spinster of a 23 year-old like me. Might as well start buying cats now. Ps. I don't even like cats.

Am I ever going to find someone to share a couple snuggie with?

xoxo
-the Romantic 

The Clive Cycle

11/02/2012 The Lady 1 Comments

Remember Clive? Whom The Preacher claimed was the perfect man for me? I never told you exactly what happened between us before he went off to Ivy League School.

At the end of the summer, I was consumed with a bit of good madness. Clive was moving across the country to Ivy League School, and I would be graduating and leaving BYU in December. There was not much to lose, but very much to gain if it was possible. I determined to tell Clive of my feelings for him (which I do not believe I will ever be able tell another man ever again).

With trembling limbs, I climbed the stairs to Clive's apartment. I nearly turned back several times, and my knock on his door was barely audible. He invited me in and we had a great conversation about the two of us. Our admiration for each other and all that jazz, but nothing ever came of that conversation. A few weeks later I watched Clive drive away towards Ivy League School without the faintest hope that I would ever even see him again, let alone marry him. (Which was my secret determination as you may have guessed).

But there exists, The Clive Cycle. I still think about him often and secretly hope that he'll come back to Provo to whisk me away to Ivy League School to be his Ivy League Wife. And then I despair that such a thing will never happen, then I'll become angry at his obvious lack of love for me (we're perfect for each other!), then I'll remember how wonderful he truly is and how lucky I would be to be Mrs. Clive. Around and around, again and again. And Clive and I only ever communicate to discuss our mutual love and frustrations for Downton Abbey. (Just imagine, I could be the wife of man who loves Downton Abbey). It is a circle with no progression or purpose. Some days it exists to keep me sane, to remind me that there are wonderful men in this world; other days it exists to remind me that wonderful men don't seem to find me as equally wonderful.

I am a perpetual Edith.

Con Amor,
The Lady

Here's how I feel about...

11/01/2012 The Romantic 6 Comments

A thousand heart felt thanks for your words of advice dear readers.Upon much reflection, here's what I think about asking guys out on dates:

If it's not too often, why not? My sophomore year (years before this blog's genesis), my room mates and I were very close indeed. Tired of the weekly routine of watching a movie on a projector every Friday night at our guy friends' apartment, we decided to plan room mate dates. Maybe two or three a semester.

Four of those room mates are married to men that they asked out first. Pretty telling, isn't it? 

I know guys like "the chase" and all that. And I've actually never dated any of the guys I've asked out. But I think it's an enlightening experience for a couple reasons; but mostly for the experience of actually asking someone out. It's completely nerve wracking! I always forget how difficult it is. My heart is just so full of empathy for every man that's ever asked any girl to do anything ever. It's a rough and tumble dating world out there.

It took me a good hour to work up the nerve to call Dante (he won over FHE dad) last night. That's an entire hour of sweaty palms, a racing heart, and me pacing from my bedroom to the living room and back again.

I even called my favorite mission companion to role play it with me. I ROLE PLAYED A PHONE CALL PEOPLE! Nervous doesn't even begin to describe my crazed emotions.

After creeper-ing his number off of lds.org (how else was I gonna do this?), I let the logical side of my brain take over. What was the worst that could happen?

Worst case scenario: He thinks I'm a total weirdie/creeper-pants (I just made that up, like it?). Says no. And avoids me at church.... or just moves out of the ward altogether because he thinks I might be stalking him/have a shrine built to him in my basement.
Ok, so not desirable but survivable.

More likely worst case scenario: He is busy and can't come. And even if he's just lying, I'll be left in ignorant bliss.

Or he says yes. eeeeeekkkk!

After mulling over each possible outcome, I finally dialed.

I explained that I had a friend that really wanted to go out with this boy, but she didn't want to just ask him out. So she asked me to double with her. And then I asked if he would go with me.

And he said yes. And he said it enthusiastically. I don't know which fact took me by surprise more(because he's just sooo cool, I figured he would be busy already). 

All of my friends that have heard this story have offered exclamations of pride and congratulations. And I have to admit, I'm a little proud of myself too. If its in my power to not sit at home this Friday night and watch Korean soap operas, then I should shake things up a bit! Social conventions be danged! I am a proud, single, independent woman of Provo!

*coughs*

Ok, so maybe I'm getting a little too suffragette on myself, and I digress. The point is, I'm excited. And nervous. And going in with the expectation to just have a good time. And that's why I think it's ok to ask guys out sometimes.

xoxo
-the Romantic 

How do you feel about...? (and I need an answer here quick folks!)

10/31/2012 The Romantic 9 Comments

SO, just to give a little bit more info about last Friday night:

Dante (thus shall my ward date night companion be called) and I had a great time on Friday. Or so I thought. He walked me home from the date, came inside to see my cute little apartment. He even gave me a hug goodbye. As per usual, I said something a little awkward at the door step.... But overall I give myself a 7.5 on the dating scale. It was a pretty good date.

But then he didn't talk to me at church on Sunday. Or come to my Sunday School lesson. But, I'm trying to to give into my female sensibilities and read into this too much.

Anywho, owing to the lack of male companionship in my current social life, a friend and I have decided to take things into our own hands!

That is right, we have decided to ask some guys out this weekend for a little double date.


Alright readers. Give it to me. How do you feel about girl's asking guys out? 


But the more important question might be, who do I ask? My FHE dad (who would probably really like the activity we're planning) or Dante (who I might have a more enjoyable time with)....

Decisions, decisions.

(Also I should mention that I don't have either of their phone numbers. And my friend is following up with me later tonight to make sure I don't chicken out)

xoxo
-the Romantic

Ward Date Night: Take 2

10/27/2012 The Romantic 1 Comments

I'm sure my last post about ward date night left you all in the throes of anticipation. However, much to my disappointment, moments after I posted, ward date night was postponed. And I was left without Friday night plans after having been so excited all week.

The next Friday afternoon, just as I was settling in for a lovely nap, I got a call from my an old room mate. Her younger sister's place of work was holding a date night on campus, and would I be interested in asking someone last minute and attending with her and her date? I replied in the affirmative, but that I didn't know anyone to ask. Our ward is still without a ward directory, so I couldn't even ask my FHE dad. A few scrambled calls were made, and I was set up by my friend's date(a guy I've been dear friends with for years) with a boy from one of my old wards that is notorious for giving a thumb's up (with both hands) every five minutes. I don't know what made me more disappointed: my guy friend's choice, or how snobby I felt at being disappointed in my guy friend's choice. Mr. Thumb's UP isn't quite Mr. Collins, but he's no Captain Wentworth either...

I was determined to keep the date under two hours. 

Gladly, the date wasn't as horrible as I imagined it would be. But it did end in less than two hours. For which I was grateful.

Which brings me to last night: ward date night take 2. Even though I had been looking excitedly forward to ward date night all last week, something inside me absolutely detested the idea this week. I don't know if it's post-mission anxiety attacks about being alone with a guy, or if I'm just lazy and the effort of engaging anyone in conversation for any amount of time just seems absolutely exhausting. But dutifully, I got ready; even going so far as to spritz myself with a little perfume (Dark Kiss by Bath&Body Works, thanks for asking).

The activity was a bonfire and pumpkin carving. And the mandate from the ward date night committee was for every guy to bring a tie to put into a bag where the girls would then draw a tie, and then viola! Everyone is paired off for the night.

As the bag was brought to me, I felt a rush of dread. I did not want to be there. I was tired. My heart's truest desire was to snuggle up in my warm bed and watch the newest episode of Grey's.

The tie I picked was a good looking tie, as far as ties go. I stared at it for a few seconds, and then this boy called over, "Oh, that's mine."

Great. It was this jock from my ward. My stomach fell. What in the world was I going to talk about with this guy for the next hour? If we could even make it that long... 

When will I learn not to judge a book by it's cover?

The conversation was rough at first. But it finally took stride when we began to talk about wrestling (he wrestled in high school, I followed my older brother around as he wrestled and I was the team's statistician). And then we talked about how he'd lived in Australia for a few years, and his mission to London. We talked about my mission to Korea, and early Mormon history (what I research for my job).

Then we talked about art. And the opera. And the class he's taking on Dante. The class he's taking just for fun because even though he's an engineering major he still really likes literature and poetry.

Between asking him about the V&A, and my describing the first time I saw the Pieta in St. Peter's, I became a little enamored. I couldn't even bring myself to tell him about the little bit of marshmallow that was stuck on his upper lip from the s'mores we'd just ate because it was a little adorable.

As people began drifting off from date night, he mentioned he still needed to drive up to Salt Lake.

"But can I walk you home?"

So, he walked me home.


To be continued....
xoxo
-the Romantic

Back to life, back to reality

10/25/2012 The Closer 1 Comments

The Gaze

10/21/2012 The Romantic 3 Comments

The beautiful thing about an anonymous secret blog  is that I can vent my emotions to the public at large, and yet no one knows it's me. I can skip the awkward facebook status update that I know I'll regret in the morning and just release my woes here. And no one that really knows me will ever be the wiser.

Today I feel resigned to spinsterhood. I feel resigned to the fact that I will be the maiden aunt. Today I feel as though I'm Miss Bates personified: awkward, bumbling, the forever third wheel, and not quite socially aware as I should be.

I suppose my feelings today are due to a combination of different things, but mostly it boils down to an old relationship I was thinking about. There was a person I met awhile ago.  I told him once that he was the best friend I ever had at that point in my life. Our relationship has been so personal and sacred to me, I've never even mentioned it here... We were close. Maybe too close. He had a girl friend you see, and I was preparing to preach the gospel to the people of Korea.

We had conversations that I will never forget. Conversations that opened my eyes and taught me how to be a better person. We laughed together, and we cried together. We ran the whole spectrum of emotions together in a few short weeks. Though we've barely spoken since my homecoming and his nuptials, I will treasure that relationship just as much, if not more than any of the men I ever dated. And the reason for that can be summed up in this story:

I was very sick one night and he came to visit me even though it was late and in the middle of mid-terms. He asked me questions about myself. I can't remember what story I told him, but I remember telling him what kind of person I wanted to be. And I remember distinctly the look in his eyes. It was so familiar and not at the same time. It was love, but not the romantic kind. It was concern mixed with compassion. It was a deep look right into my soul. It wasn't the last time he'd give me that look. Simply put, he looked at me like I was worth something. I've kept a mental picture of each look he's ever given me, locked away in memory; seldom remembered, but deeply treasured.

As I sat on the couch tonight at ward prayer, it suddenly hit me: He was the last man that ever looked at me that way, like I was worth something. I watched the guys and girls in my ward pal around tonight and I felt so completely apart from it all. My heart ached for those moments when that man would look at me. All the secret side glances, the quick moments of eye contact from across rooms, the deep soul searching gazes that we used to exchange in those few short weeks we knew each other before I left were my hope on my mission. They were the hope, that I would serve the Lord with all I had to come back and find a man just as good as he was. But I sat on that couch tonight, apart from it all, craving that male companionship that used to come so easily to me. And I found that hope gone, lost in the secret smiles and side glances exchanged between friendships I'm not involved in.

I'm sure tomorrow I'll feel differently. I'll wake up with hope again. I'll rise with a renewed belief in love and gazes and sidelong glances.

But tonight, I'm going to be Miss Bates.

xoxo
-the unRomantic

As nobody minds having what is too good for them, [s]he was very steadily earnest in the pursuit of the blessing.

10/20/2012 The Lady 4 Comments

Dear Anti-Austens,

Elder Bednar said once that we shouldn't have a MASSIVE list of things we want in a husband, since some of them don't really matter in the long run. But, he said to have about 5 things that you're looking for and won't compromise. I'm just curious; what would your girls' five things be?

Ward Date Night

10/18/2012 The Romantic 1 Comments

If anticipation could kill a person, I'd probably be dead by now. Tomorrow is our first big ward date night. And our little date night committee has supposedly been working on pairing people up all week. But we have yet to find out who are dates will be.

And it is just killing me. I think I mentioned what my hopes were in my last post. Somehow I made the mistake of letting it slip to my visiting teachers earlier this week that I thought my FHE dad was cute. It seems I can't even be relied with my own secrets. I feel like such a Beehive these days, or maybe a Mia Maid if I'm going to be a little lenient with myself.

But I digress. My visiting teachers said they would try and get me "the hook-up" as they have connections on the ward dating committee. So maybe my hopes will bear fruit tomorrow night.

We'll see.

xoxo
-the Romantic

"What is right to be done cannot be done too soon"

10/16/2012 The Blue Stocking 0 Comments

Half agony, half hope.

10/14/2012 The Lady 2 Comments

Hello ladies,