There's no such thing...

...As too many books. Or shoes. Until you find yourself carrying everything you own up 3 flights of stairs. That's enough to make anyone start questioning their life choices. And fashion choices.

So when the medium size box that I had crammed my Imelda Marcos-sized shoe collection burst between my car and that previously-referenced stairwell, you would think I would wise up. But since today I am apparently the LUCKIEST GIRL IN THE WORLD, things took a rather different turn.

In other words.

I have a tiny confession to make.



How tiny?  Only this tiny.



What are the odds that I can think to myself "I'll just check for a pair of black boots" and the only pair in my size happened to be $4? And cute. What a day.

Later tonight I'm thinking of playing some lottery.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?

13 years ago someone at the BYU Harold B Lee Library tried to throw a gem of a poster in the garbage. Luckily I had a wise roommate who saw the value in trash treasures and she rescued it and brought it home, to hang in an honored spot in the dining room.

We had no idea who they were or why they were printed onto a huge poster, used and then thrown away like yesterday's bad egg salad sandwich. But we loved them.  And so did everyone else who visited us.  Well, everyone except for one of our very own roommates.  But she was overruled.  

Late one night, we gave construction paper accessories like watches and pet tigers.  The were dubbed  "Out'a SNYC" in a odd homage to the apartment's preferred boy band.  

One day some guy told us they were Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and Gang.  (Something about the Tall Texan?) I don't know, I'm not from around here and have no idea about the folklore and western history.  I do know that once when I was driving through wyoming, I found a Tshirt with this exact same picture printed on it.  So I bought it.  and some postcards.

Then I moved.  Everyone moved.  The last person left in that apartment was the roommate who hated the picture.  When I moved to a place in clearfield, my roommate was someone who lived upstairs from us at the time of the poster, so she brought it along for me, and it hung at our house.  Then I packed up again and moved to Minnesota for a while.  Upon returning to Utah, I was delighted to find that it was still around.  

Now I'm moving again.  And its probably time to put away silly things and have a grown up house.  

But I'm finding I have trouble parting with my boys.  

So I'm wondering if any of the old gang wants it back?  How much am I bid for this little memory?

Moving and a Stalker*

Oh Friends.  I just reserved the Uhaul.  I'm moving.  Next Saturday morning.  Its funny how much the anxiety kicks in as soon as you make a tiny decision like reserving a Uhaul.  Its not like it cost me to do it.  And I can always cancel.  And I'm only moving a mile and a half down the road.  SO why the racing heart, the sweaty palms, the squeezy feeling in my stomach?

Here's the deal.  On average as a kid, we moved about every four years.  When my family settled down in one place for longer than 4 years, I left for college 4 years into it anyways.  And in college, I lived in the same place for... you guessed it, 4 years.  

And I've lived here for 4 1/2 years.  Which means I've lived here longer than anywhere else.  Not much longer.  But longer still the same.  And I love it here.  I love my ward.  I love my landlord.  I love my cute little house.  

What I don't love is how much it costs, and as a grad student, I really cant afford to be dumping this much rent money.  And I kind of don't love coming home to the alone reminder that there is no roommate, which is mostly peaceful, but also a reminder that I'm paying too much rent.  

SO I'm moving in with Luna.  (You may have noticed that I avoid using identifying features on here, and most often choose to substitute names with Harry Potter names.  Recently I learned even more about the importance of online privacy*.  So I hope she doesn't mind being dubbed "Luna".)  Luna is a fellow Ravenclaw.  And she is delightful and awesome and has become one of the dearest friends I have ever known.  

Part of my anxiety is that living together will screw up our friendship.  But i'm going to try extra hard to behave myself.  And we are grownups, not college students away from home for the first time.  

And I am hoping this is my very last short term living arrangement.  I am a little over a year away from finishing grad school.  As soon as I finish that up, I should be able to get a stable grown up job and buy a place of my own.  

See how I'm talking myself down from the anxiety?

Now.  Who wants to come help me move this couch up a few flights of stairs?

*Oh, you noticed that did you?  Its a little creepy.  Remember this little gem of a post? Well the highlights are: I told him off, he continued to insult in a passive-aggressive feigned kindness, I told him to leave me alone, he asked me out, I blocked him and made my information unsearchable, and so he sent a stalker letter to choir.  This creeper just won't go away. There's nothing quite like having the president pull you aside to give you some "fan mail" and ask if you need help managing the situation.  *shudder* Despite the fact that he's probably not actually dangerous, its still not awesome to feel like unwanted people can find you. I didn't sleep much the night that happened.  The human imagination is a terrifying thing. 

So on a brighter note, moving to a new place where there is another person, and a security gate, should help with that too. Although now this human's imagination is picturing Luna and myself fighting off a crazy person intruder.  And that's actually a really funny picture. 

One-Line Thoughts (and some commentary)

• Cars should be red the way desserts should be chocolate.  (I just don't see the point in any other variety of either )
• Hipsters are just so mainstream. (They really are.  Negativity is the new black. If you really want to be innovative and different, try being positive, liking things, and recognizing that if something is popular, there probably is a reason)
• Bucket list item #34: Win something from one of those claw machines.  (Seriously, if anyone knows how, I want some pointers.  My friend recently saw a Captain Kirk doll in one.)
• My fear is that you will take my silence to mean I agree with you, so I speak out. (and yet, if you do not speak up, I assume that means you disagree with me. I am a hypocrite)
• Disagreement and negativity does not make you smarter than everyone. (Back to that hipster thing. I'm bugged by that today.)
• Don't "dance like no one is watching", dance like the whole world thinks you are beautiful. (The number of so-called inspirational quotes on pinterest makes me wonder how we really define inspiration.)
• God never asked you to sing well, he asked you to sing. (So quit telling me you can't sing church congregational songs. Its church, for heaven's sake.  If someone there is judging you, they are the one who is going to Hell.)
• It is easier to research subjects that you can remove yourself from than it is to honestly research yourself. (I would just about give up a limb to be writing a research paper instead of a reflection paper on my "inner couple".
• I believe that deja vu is God's way of telling me I'm in the right place.  (Or on the right path, or making the right choice.)
• If my coping mechanism is going to be a new pair of shoes every time I have a hard day, I am going to  need a bigger closet. (And Target is going to have to have more clearance sales)
• The more I see of the pain and hurts in the world, the more I am astounded at the resilience of the human spirit. (And as long as I focus on the resilience of the human spirit, the more hope I have for the future.)

I can't give the details of my life anymore, I can't speak of the things that used to send me to the keyboard to write through my thoughts and emotions.  The closer I get to practicing, the more generic this has to be.  But I will maintain it.  I may eventually make it private, I may eventually become so limited in my posting that you won't remember I am here.  But I will be here.