Introvert Weekend.

I can never quite decide

whether I'm an introvert

or an extrovert.

Historically,

I've been pretty shy

around people I don't know well.

At the same time,

I love being around other people.

I feel like

life offers you enough alone time

as it is:

when you're in the bathroom,

when you walk from place to place.

Hey,

you're alone with yourself in your head

all the time.

The rest of the time,

I'd like to be with others.

This weekend, however,

I completely introverted it.

via

I slept long,

and read books,

went places by myself.

Mostly, though,

I didn't leave my house

or talk to virtually anyone.

It was nice.

But it was enough.

I'm ready to reenter the land of the living.

She is me.

Four years ago today,

I received my patriarchal blessing.

The person it describes

is a beautiful person:

kind and vibrant.

And she is me!

It is nice to see

how much more like her

I have become

in only a few years.

Be careful in whom you share your confidence.

Today I ate at Panda Express with Allyson

since she's heading back east

in less than two days :(

My fortune said:

Be careful in whom

you share your confidence.

Immediately, I threw it down and said,

"Pshh! I never do that."

My next thought was,

"I want to blog about this."

Which just further proves my point.

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Things That Made Me Cry Today.

A picture of my friend and his wife

dressed up in pioneer clothes.

A story about a birthday gift

sparkling with real-life romance.

The pattern of the disco ball

swirling on the floor.

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Connectedness.

So, there's a thing called StrengthsFinder.

Maybe it's just positive psychology mumbo jumbo,

but I think it's pretty insightful.

It says my #1 strength is connectedness.

"[You] have faith 

in the links between all things.

By nature,

you consider people 

more important

than things.

You consider ways

to initiate, nurture, or sustain

some of the linkages between individuals or groups.

You help people realize

they are part of the human family."

Francois Brunelle photographs
strangers that look like twins.

I think that description of me is dead on.

I like to think about

and blog about

what it means to be human.

I see people who are alone,

and I worry about them.

Later,

when I see them with friends,

I'm relieved. 

I notice who likes each other

and then I get particular joy

when they start dating.

And I can't describe how happy I feel

when people I love

love 

each

 other.

Fancy Pants.

I bought some pants at DI.

They're basically this color:

I actually think they're really ugly,

and that's my favorite thing about them.

When did I become a hipster?

Among the Public.

I have a hard time

when people ask me what my hobbies are.

I'm alive,

and I enjoy that.

Isn't that enough?

But lately I've realized

that one of my hobbies

is going to free public events.

Parades

Carnivals

Festivals

Museums

Concerts

Fairs

Etc.

I like to go and be among the people

and walk around,

looking at things

that I've never seen before

and will never see again.

You might could say it's boring,

but that's what makes it so enjoyable.

Today,

I went to the Orem Summerfest.

I walked around,

learned about bookbinding

from a kind, earnest man,

sat inside a helicopter,

ate a snowcone,

and rode the swing ride.

And that's what I like to do.

image

Skills.

Things I'm good at:

1. Reading out loud.

via

2. Quoting movies correctly.

via

3. Talking in accents.

via

Conclusion:

I would make a good babysitter.

Mom.

Once upon a time,

my roommate Mary had a friend named Jordan.

When he was in a bind

or needed help,

he would say,

"Mom?"

Kind of whiny and scared,

like a little kid would.

And then I started to do it.

And then it spread.

I would call my roommates mom

when they did something momish.

"Rachel, do you want some of this soup I made?"

"Sure! Thanks, Mom!"

And then it spread.

And now my roommates and I call each other mom

all the time.

"Hi, Mom! How was school today?"

And then it spread.

And sometimes I call my guy friends dad.

If it happens to you,

this is why.

Don't worry.

Eulogy.

When I die,

I want them to say,

Her heart was 

an ocean

that's inside

a bigger ocean.

Toys.

Sometimes,

I daydream about having super classy children

who only play with toys

made of wood 

and scrap metal

and yarn.

Forget plastic.

They will play with these:

from here.

Warm Weather Wishes.

It's getting warmer

and all I want is

a pair of Sperrys for every occasion

and

a little bit of ankle.

Wanderlust.

I used to have this thing against California & Florida.

I thought of them as glorified vacation spots.

You can't live year round in a place with palm trees!

Obviously, I had a change of heart.

.

.

.

I actually went to California.

Right now I'm in Orlando for a conference.

This is our hotel!

And it's lush

and warm

and I love it.

And I said to myself,

I need to spend at least part of my life 

living in a place with palm trees.

Ignoring what this humidity does to my hair, of course.

Let's not talk about that.

But then I went to a conference session

given by a sweet man from Alabama.

And I decided,

I need to spend at least part of my life in the South.

I need to live in a town called Possum Trot.

The next session was led by a women from Rhode Island.

Then, of course,

I need to spend at least part of my life in New England.

I want to be brash and intelligent.

And maybe live near Walden Pond.

And I want to be a hipster in the Pacific Northwest.

And a farmer in the Midwest.

And a Delaware mom who vacations at the beach

and has a smoker voice.

Not to mention how terrifying it is to think of life

without the Rockies.

Nec minus salutaris quam festiuus.

I want to found a utopian society

where everyone speaks Latin.

'12. Not 1912.

Last year, I was really against a year-end post.

Which is funny, because 2011 was such a big year for me.

So big, really, that I thought 2012 would quite pale in comparison.

But upon reflection, it has been quite remarkable.

And what else is a blog for?

Top 12 about Twelve:

(not ranked, because that would just be too difficult)

(and obviously this is only the good parts.

there have been plenty of bad ones.

don't get the wrong idea.)

1. First time to California.

And I did it twice.

Needless to say, I'm in love.

Me at La Jolla Beach.

2. First birthday party since I was in eighth grade.

And 3948593 people showed up.

With the birthday banner Killy & Tim made me.

3. Went inside two pioneer-made temples 

for the first time this year:

Salt Lake City in February and 

St. George in July.

And attended the Brigham City Temple dedication in September.

Jess & I at the St. George temple.

4. New job description at work,

with more opportunities to plan and train.

And associate with the best people on campus.

In the Freshman Mentoring office.

5. Relief Society president for a semester. Eep!

Seriously, so blessed during that time.

Went on so many dates :)

Here's a nice picture of me from that time.

6. Sent a ton of friends on mission this year.

First her.

Michele: England

Then her.

Rachel: Florida

Then her.

Shelisa: New York

Then her.

Jessica: California

And last, her.

Cassie: Spain

And the other half of them are leaving next year.

But, good news,

the boys my age came home this year!

7. One of my favorite parts of this year

was really just my summer dinner group.

I mean, you get free dinner every night with good company

and you only have to cook thrice over the summer.

The best time was when I made a pioneer feast on Pioneer Day:

barbecued pork sandwiches, potatoes, biscuits, baked beans, strawberries & blueberries, root beer, and peach cobbler.

And then we went to an Orem Owlz baseball game,

and then to Denny's.

It was all very American.

Somehow Jess had never been to a baseball game!
And there was a rainbow.

8. Friends married!

First, Katie. One of the best friends from home.

With all the girls.

And then Lizzie & Clark.

They were a huge part of this year.

Somehow we let all this time pass without a good picture of us being taken.

I think I took this picture.

That's why it's off center.

The night they got engaged!

9. Brought a couple of grades back from the dead

(like that Emily Dickinson class, remember?)

and ended up without a grade lower than an A- this year.

Took the GRE.

And whittled down my list of possible futures.

Linguistics Professor

Museum Studies

Law School

Linguistics Professor (again)

High school teacher

This is John Stuart Mill.
I referenced his theory in a paper I wrote.
And I just love statues.

10. Exactly 100 blog posts this year.

Blogging has been a big part of my life.

Favorite pastime, besides eating.

11. A new development this year that I like to call "Say what you need to say."

When you have something to say, say it.

It helps everyone know what's going on.

And it's done me well.

I don't usually promote these things,
but a lot of this is how I feel.

12. And hey, the world didn't end.

Autobiography.

I tried something new.

A Natural Barber.

In middle school and high school, I loved to write stories.

I've been wanting to post something I wrote,

and today on my bookshelf at home, I found the perfect thing.

I never could write a real plot,

and you won't find one here.

I don' hold my breath for snow days. I don' pay no attention to the weather at all. If it happens, it happens. You don't hafta know everything before it happens.

So that's why I'm walkin' down the street in a beat up old windbreaker jus' as it's starin' to snow. Well, look. They all turned out to be right. It was gonna snow. But it didn' help nothin' to chit chat about it. Woulda happened either way.

Mr. Kemp waves to me from the doorway of the barber shop. There he is with a big ol' broom, already sweepin' away the three or four flakes that have had the chance to pile up. But he goes fishin' sometimes with my old man, so I nod back.

Just as I pass his storefront, I hear him call, "Darren!"

I whip around. "Yeah?" My voice is all scratchy 'cause I haven' used it for the past hour and Mr. Kemp took me by surprise.

"How'd you like a job here? Just sweeping the floors?" He grips and ungrips the handle of the broom like somethin' spooked him.

I smile, 'cause Mr. Kemp keeps the word count down, just like I do. I could work for him. He's a real decent guy.

Then I think of a catch. I always look for a catch 'fore I agree to somethin'. 

"My dad put y'up to this?"

Mr. Kemp laughs like he knew I might say that. That puts me out for a quick minute, but soon he says, "No, sir. On my honor as a barber."

I woulda laughed, but my cheeks are too cold. Do ya think they got some barber code of honor? I wouldn' be surprised. Maybe there's a barbers' guild and they issue those red and white striped poles and those aprons.

"I getta wear one of those aprons?" I ask without movin' my lips.

"Standard issue." Mr. Kemp smiles proudly.

I look around like I'm still considering.

"Well, okay. Sounds swell."

Mr. Kemp smiles and beckons me toward the door. A little bell tinkles as I walk through into the warm shop. Whatta nice place. I used ta get my hair cut here, when I cut it regularly. Now my hands fly to the hair around my ears, ashamed.

Mr. Kemp slips into the back room without a word. I look around at the black and white tile floor and the pictures on the walls--movie stars my mother likes, photographs of the town fifty years ago, and advertisements for hair grease and shaving cream. I shuffle around like I'm spooked, but it's justa show.

Mr. Kemp comes back with an apron and Wallace McCann. I forgot--he works here too, don't he? Oh well. He's as gooda fella as any, jus' talks too much.

"Well, Darren Nichols! Whatta guy! How are ya?" Wallace asks. Then he stands with his hands on his hips, waitin' for an answer. Man, does he got bug eyes. After a quick minute, I remember to nod and grunt.

Mr. Kemp shuffles forward and hands me the apron. I slip it over my head like a medal, right over my stupid windbreaker.

"Look at that, Doc," Wallace laughs. "Looks great! He's a natural barber!"

Well that sounds looney.

Mr. Kemp brings me a broom from the closet. "Well uh, let's see how ya do."

I set to sweepin' under the four chairs and under the sinks. It ain't hard or nothin', but I make sure to get all the corners. It's good, honest work. I might even call it swell if I didn't haveta hear ol' Wallace McCann goin' on and on.

"We-el-lllll, looky here! He is a natural, eh Doc? Look at his technique! Reminds me of a young me--yeah Darren, you might not believe it, 'cause I'm a honesta goodness barber now, but I started riiight there where you is now, sweepin' up for Mr. Kemp! Make sure and don' miss those corners! Ha ha ha! Well gawwwlly."

I'm 'bout done now so I stop.

"Done well, Darren," Mr. Kemp says.

I nod and grip and ungrip the broom handle.

Mr. Kemp touches his bald head. "Well uh, can ya manage... an hour? Every day after school? What time does school end these days?"

I wanna tell him I might as well come in the mornings sometimes 'cause I hardly ever go to school, anyhow. But I jus' say, "Two thirty."

"It'll jus' be minimum wage, ya know."

"Yessir." Sir? Yeah, I guess Mr. Kemp is a sir.

He looks out the window. "Well lookit that! It's sure is snowin' now--Get on home, son."

I'm angry! I'm wonderful.

When I feel mad,

I like to throw things.

Correction:

I have to throw things,

or it doesn't go away.

(Maybe I should have been a pitcher?)

Sometimes I get so mad

that I start to laugh.

It's okay to feel those feelings,

and it's funny.

Once upon a time,

one of my friends told me that

I reminded her of Princess Giselle in this clip:

(You can start at 0:43--and please end at 1:50 before the chest hair part...)

I didn't see it before,

but now I do.

"Faultless in spite of all her faults"

There's just something about Jane Austen novels.

Every girl knows which of Jane's heroines she is.

For instance,

I am Emma.

A few years ago,
before I realized the supreme superiority of Emma 
over Pride and Prejudice,
the question was always
Elizabeth or Jane?

And I always wanted to be Jane.
I already understood Elizabeth.

But Jane had something worth envying
in her agreeableness and beauty.

Being an Elizabeth is fun, 
if that's all you can manage to amount to.
You get to be intelligent and sassy.

But if you're good enough,
it is better to be a Jane.

The world is made for Janes, I thought.

Elizabeths just aren't quite there.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
I am not a Jane.
And I cannot be a Jane.

I am an Emma,
and I make mistakes a Jane would never make.

But it's not just a Jane's world.

Emma can be obnoxious.
She doesn't read as much as she should.
And her opinions are often misguided.

But I like her.

Perhaps it is our imperfections

that make us so perfect for one another!