things that matter/things that don't

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This has been on my mind lately. Especially lately. Ok so listen.

This week in digital folklore, we talked about the weirdness of identity. The weirdness of identity=my thesis (but in poetry form). Basically, what we think about ourselves is not what we use to express ourselves, but it's all we have. So like your clothes, your hair, your makeup, your cool toys, your books, your taste in music, none of that really expresses who you are. Then there's what you think other people think of you, which gets weirder. Because that's not who you are either, but it's a lot easier to talk about. We care way more about how others think of us than how we think of us. And it's even further from our true selves than what we use to communicate who we are. Are you still following dis?

Okay so then we get to what we think others think we think we are. And what they think we think they think we are. WAT. But it's all about us, about our identities, and how they are really weird and defining them gets weirder. What we have to define them are things like words, which are so abstract. They are simply not enough to express things like love (for instance, you may love your spouse, but you also love that bag of chips on the counter) or sadness or guilt. 

As I'm scrolling through Instagram these days, I see a lot of people doing amazing things/being amazing. They have perfect lives, o woe is me! Why? Why does this bother us? We demand imperfection! We want to know that people are real, and imperfections=real. And yet, seemingly perfect people are the ones with all the followers (real or internet-ish). The equation just doesn't add up.

Which brings me to the eternal things. The things that do matter because they have permanence. A.M. Royden said, "Learn to hold loosely all that is not eternal." And I think what's bothering me about all of the stuff on Instagram, all the stuff that gets attention... is not permanent. But we spend so much time thinking about it. We're not just spending money on it, we're spending time and energy on it. And yo, I don't have a lot of time or energy these days. Not nearly enough is left over to worry about the midcentury modern furniture I don't have or the trips I am not going on or the lipstick I absolutely positively must buy cuz it doesn't smudge.

It makes sense that focusing too much on those things would make me feel out of place and miserable and weird, cuz those things aren't eternal, but I am. Even though there's parts of my identity that are hard to define, there are things I do know: I am a child of God, I always have been, and I always will be. I am eternal.

this list is for me, but it could be for you, too.

things that do matter:

• my family + any time I spend with them
• making the burdens of those around me much lighter
• praying as much as I can to feel peace in a confusing world
• keeping my eyes on the Savior
• temple work
• teaching my future children to be kind human beings

things that don't matter (in the eternal scheme of things):

• whether or not I put on makeup today
• how many cardigans I own
• how many concerts I went to this year
• if I have adult acne (ugh)

That last list was way harder to make than I thought it would be. I'm not saying that just because temporal things are just that--temporal--we shouldn't spend any time on them. If putting on makeup every day makes you feel good about yourself, do it. But if you happen to lack perfectly sculpted brows, I don't think you should beat up yourself about it. The thing I am most afraid of is extremism, and right now I find myself leaning too far towards caring about things that have no eternal value at all. And really, it's getting old. 

'"The Son of man came … to give his life a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45) is one of the clearest statements in the Gospels about the meaning and purpose of Jesus Christ’s suffering, death, and Resurrection--they were the price He paid to redeem all mankind. “Ransom” is translated from the Greek word lutron, meaning a sum paid to secure another person’s release from bondage or captivity. In Old Testament times, when someone was in bondage, the price of his release was expected to be paid by his kinsmen (see Leviticus 25:48–49). As the Firstborn of our Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ paid the ransom required to free all mankind from the bondage of sin. According to 1 Peter 1:18–19, the ransom was paid not “with corruptible things, as silver and gold, … but with the precious blood of Christ.'"

this one is dedicated to my apple chips. sure love ya.

Oh this is just too hilarious.

For fours years I lived in Rexburg, ID and was therefore surrounded by engagement ring ads constantly. You think I'm kidding? No. They actually go around to all the student apartments and leave catalogs on all the porches. In fact, some of our guy friends cut out pictures of the bride models and hung them on their wall (but I'm not gonna open that can of worms-needing-therapy).

After that I graduated and went back to the same singles ward I'd been going to for four years. I had crushes on a few guys but they were never monumental enough to make me do anything.

Enter Tinder. I used Tinder only for fun and then the guys started blocking me (I only responded to them with Van Halen lyrics, so I deserved this). And so I shrugged and said, "That's okay, dating is not for me."

School was, though. Always school. So I moved and came to get an education for the jillionth time it would seem. That first semester nearly crushed my soul in half it was so hard. I walked into my parents' house after my last day of classes and fell face down on the ground for a well-earned nap.

The next semester was easier (but colder). On January 2(?) I went to FHE down the street. I hadn't gone to FHE during the fall semester because I'd had a class on Monday evenings, so my new goal was to start going so people didn't think I was inactive (this will become funnier in just a second).

So. We go to this house and there's people there I don't know, obviously, because I haven't been going to FHE. We make a pinata and play "water pong," but mostly I sit there and watch and take stupid videos/pictures of everyone with my boomerang app. Observe:

On January 30th it snowed a bunch, so the next morning I was slightly late for church because I had to change out of my winter boots into church shoes (in the car) (in the church parking lot), which gets complicated when you don't want to flash anyone.

I remember feeling really sick that day because my health was still on the down low, so I went home after church and was literally laying down for a nap when my phone rang. I was like "???!?!?!?? who's calling me right now???? I need to sleep."

Normally I would've ignored this call and just pretended I was sleeping because naps are essential to my life, but I did not. I answered. It was the FHE "mom and dad" (the two people in charge of coordinating FHE for each group) wanting to come over right then and visit me. Again, my thought was ?????????? because this was unusual. I wasn't a part of planning FHE at all, and they weren't my visiting or home teachers, so why were they coming over, g-dangit?!

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and went upstairs. I know that I looked exhausted and my skin had a yellow tint because my liver was acting up (cute), but I did not care.

Later I found out that they thought I was inactive (told you) because Houston, whose name I legitimately thought was Dennis (because they sound incredibly similar, you know) had looked up everyone in the group on Facebook, seen me, and said to himself, "I've never seen her before, she has to be inactive." HA. Joke's on you, Houston/Dennis. Joke's on you.

Well, after chatting with me and my roommate, they realized I was not inactive, just a grad student, and that I had in fact been coming to church for the entire fall semester. They left, I went back to bed. Later, Houston came back to my house to shovel the driveway (later he told me he was hoping he'd see me again, but again, I was passed out in my bed, HA). I woke up to the sound of people trying to break up the icebergs in our driveway, went back upstairs, and started to make banana bread cuz the smell of ripe bananas is awful, amirite? I wasn't doing it to impress anyone because I didn't think there was anyone to impress.

They came in, I told them they could have banana bread if they wanted, but it had forever to bake and they had to go so I just said I'd bring some to FHE the next day.

a picture of me on that day. we got stuck in our driveway even after they shoveled it. 

just to illustrate the snow. lots of it. there was a lot. of snow. such snow.

After FHE the next night, I realized I'd forgotten to give them the banana bread I'd promised, so I just texted Houst asking him if he still wanted some. By this point in time, my roommate Kyrie was like "Hmm I think he likes you," and I set out to prove her wrong because I'm always right about boys. I was like "if he really likes me he'll find a reason to stay and hang out when he comes to get the bread..."

He said he'd come get it. When he got to my house, he stood in the doorway...didn't even come inside all the way. He kept saying "I'm soooo tired, man I'm tired, my eyes are so heavy, I need to hibernate, wow exhausted..." you get the picture. I thought to myself, "Bingo, he does not like me" but I wasn't that disappointed because I wasn't emotionally invested in it. I gave him the banana bread and said "Haha, yeah, maybe go to bed??? Byeeeeee." *slams door in face* (just kidding)

The following things then happened, in this order:

1. That weekend, on Saturday morning, I got a really long text from Houston asking me if I wanted to go see a movie with him and his friends, but... they were in Ogden. I said "Oh yeah that would be fun but I don't have a car..." This is funny because it's a pattern in my life. When I have loads of free time + transportation, nobody asks to hang out, but as soon as I become a wandering car-less vagabond people wanna chill. The injustice!
2. That weekend, I also got called to be a part of the FHE planning committee. Nice move, God. Smooth. 
3. I texted Houston to ask him what my calling entailed, he said we would have a meeting the next Monday after FHE.
4. The conversation ended.
5. ...Until ten minutes later when he started texting me again. That's when I was like "hmmm...highly suspect...he's asking me if I like his tie? Weird." Still kind of oblivious. It was Super Bowl weekend and I was doing everything but watch the Super Bowl. He still asked me if I was, though, and I said "No way, I'm making valentine's." And then he said, "Did you make me one?" Still, though. I mean still. I was not picking up what he was putting down. I said "Uh, yeah" and sent him a pic of the one that said "I'd Never Vote for Trump. Not Even For You." Tru luv.
6. So, that next Monday, FHE was a fireside/devotional about dating and marriage. The angels in heaven were really trying to drop the hints on me, I guess, but I was not getting it. Houston walked in late but sat right in front of us. I felt sorta awkward because...well, it's like when you have a dream about someone and then you see them in public again and you're like "ah we had a weird moment in my dream now I don't know how to act around you." Except it wasn't a dream it was real LIFE which made it more uncomfortable for me.
7. Anyhow, during that fireside my roommate passed him a note or texted him or something and said "If you need tips on how to date McKenzie, just ask me." I was soooo embarrassed when I found out she did that later. Like mortified. Apparently he turned red in the face so that made me feel even more uncomf. Kyrie, being Kyrie, totally invited him to eat dinner with us after that, and since I couldn't eat the food they were eating, I just sat there and watched goat videos and laughed like an idiot. It was more like I was the third wheel. Perfect.
8. After "eating" at Morty's, we dropped Houston back off at his car. My bladder was full (I had been drinking lots of water due to being uncomfortable, here's a citation if you need one), so I ran into the church to go to the bathroom. Didn't say goodbye or anything. But everyone who's read this blog since its inception knows that my bladder's grace period is basically the size of...well I can't think of anything tiny that would make sense to complete this metaphor and I'm very sleep-deprived right now. MOVING ON. I came back out to the car and he was still in there. ? You'd think by now I would say something really flirtatious, but instead I said, "You're still here?" By this time, the heavens were probably like, "Ok, this one is not worth it. Let's move on to someone more teachable." Then we talked about music for a little while and he left. As soon as he got out of his car Kyrie screamed, "OK OK I THINK HE LIKES YOU." I said "Huh? No." (I'm an English major) (sometimes it surprises even me, guys). 
9. When we got home that night, Houston texted Kyrie (while she was with me) and said "Okay what are your tips?" The next Tuesday while I was tutoring in the writing center, he called me, and when I didn't answer, he texted me to ask me out. I'm such a terrible person, so I just called him back and left him a voicemail saying he had to call me back and ask me over the phone. HAH WHO AM I. *shudder*
10. Because he could not wait for our date that Saturday, he set up a game night with my roommate to be at my house. He brought me apple chips because I was/am allergic to everything else.
11. Our first date was February 13th. Like, what? Couldn't be any more obvious, right? God was basically dropping an anvil on me like "wake up, my child. WAKE UP." Well, the good news is, I woke up. And I wasn't dreaming. 

ignore my messy floor. Houst gave this to me a week after our first date. I know.

that same week, he came to one of my classes and pretended to be a student (his alibi: "I missed her morning class so now I'm coming to this one." we had a quiz that day.)

embarrassing

Every gosh dang time I say "embarrassing" (out loud and in my head), I say it in the Ew Sara voice. How embarrassing. More embarrassing: it took me five tries to spell embarrassing correctly.

About a month ago, I was in the middle of a lecture (lolz, that sounds like a fancy version of what I was actually doing, which is tripping over my sentences/chewing on the end of my dry-erase marker while I called on students whose eyes were slowly betraying them like "helllpppp when does this class end").

ANYhow, I'm standing up there and all of a sudden the door opens, but not without some struggle. You see, this door is a little bit rickety because it's in the Engineering Lab (yes, my English class is in the Engineering Lab....whatever). This particular building has no windows because they want everyone at USU to easily identify engineering majors by their pale complexions and inability to make eye contact with anyone I guess. I don't even K. So anyhow, the hinges of this door probably haven't been serviced since 1973 and the kid on the other end (whoever he was) just could not get it open. I knew it wasn't any of my students cuz they were all accounted for (ha, it sounds like I'm taking roll after a natural disaster) (the natural disaster was my lecture) (ha ha ha, get it).

So in the middle of me talking, this door is just rattling and the guy on the other side is trying to get in but he just can't handle the door, and my students are now totally distracted by the door getting pushed open a little then closed again, then opened a little, then closed, then op

And I'm still talking to pretend like I don't know what's going on but let's be real I really wanted to see if this guy was going to make it through the door. The suspense was killing me.

Other things killing me in this moment:

• a guy trying to open a door was more interesting to my students than my lecture
• a guy trying to open a door was more interesting to me than my lecture

So finally after what seems like ten years he opens the door with a loud screech and it kinda swings open all dramatic and hits the wall on the other side like in mobster movies (uhhh citation please??). He stands there for another 5 years (time slows down when you're experiencing a humiliating moment in front of 20+ strangers...trust me. I know. I experience it twice a week). Realizes he's just "opened" (lol that's not the verb describing what he did but I honestly have no idea what it was) the door to a classroom he thought was his...but alas! It's not his class.

His eyes get really big and this awful knowledge starts to spread over his face...like he's suddenly aware of what he's done and he knows it's going to haunt him for years to come. Observe:

♫ Hit me like a freight train, baby ♪

You think the story ends here, and it would if this was a perfect, exalted world, and all the awkwardness was burned out of us by the Holy Ghost. But no. 

He slowly backs out of the classroom, "swinging" the door shut behind him (again, wrong verb, because whatever he did was not as simple or fluid as "swinging," but my words escape me when describing this scene). Unfortunately for him, he doesn't know that the old rubber doorstop fell down when he opened the door. So the door is now stuck.

He can't shut it and he couldn't open it. For him, this is Dante's Seventh Circle. Probably. Now he's yanking the door towards him without noticing the doorstop. All of us are frozen in place, looking down at the ground like, "Come on man, get it together, look down at the doorstop, it's right there, it's blocking the door, please shut the door, oh my gosh I can't take this awkwardness anymore, please can we dismiss class early and stop watching this kid try to close the door that he never meant to open, this is some kind of fresh hell...." I realize these are probably just my thoughts and not my students'. I realize that. 

Finally after much yanking and forehead-sweat-beadlets and buggy eyes and awkward grunts and faces like this from onlookers (me + my students):

...he closed the door. With a loud slam. And then we all exhaled finally and I tried to go on with the lecture but mostly we just fake-laughed to ourselves because what the actual he*k?! I feel for him, I truly do. Which is why I'm sharing his story on the world wide web.

this granolie bar is ten levels below gross but I'm still eating it

me @ the internet, social media, newspapers, and almost everyone during election season. 

and Larabars. 

Once, like six years ago, I ran a Ragnar (for the first and last time, R(eeses) I(n) P(ieces) my body). We ate bananas and candy and those Goo packs which hardly need to be digested at all (and aren't really, if I'm being disgustingly honest). And we ate Larabars.

Larabars are healthy granola bars, basically made for people on Whole 30. That's because they're fruit, dates, and nuts, all mashed up and pressed into a rectangular mold and then given very deceptive names like "Brownie" and "Cashew Cookie" and "Key Lime Pie." When John tasted the Key Lime pie Larabar for the first time, he said, "Bleh, PineSol!" I'm eating a Larabar right now. /end story

I am *this* close to deleting my Facebook because the election.

I am also *this* close to deleting my brain because it's now "that time" (whatever that even means). Last night when I opened my textbook I heard myself saying "No, thanks." Senioritis has officially begun, and not a day late.

I have run into like ten students (current and former) this week, and only one has acknowledged me. Students, if you think running into your teacher is awkward, just remember it's 10x worse for them, cuz we already have to stand in front of you 2-3 times a week and pretend like we know what we're doing, and then when we see you on campus and wave to you for like five minutes without you acknowledging us....it's just....no. Nightmare. I think I even stood next to a student while he was walking and said "hey!" OUT LOUD and waved and he looked straight ahead. Meanwhile his friends were like ??????? hey lady????? u ok?????????????????????

I might have Tourette's, guys, but otherwise, I'm fine.

Weird things:

• a girl I follow on Instagram said her boyfriend "is the best booger she's ever picked." Uh? Gross?
• somehow the bottle of salt (bottle???) that's been on my desk for 4 months still has salt in it. weird.
• I ate a Larabar (?!?) (still not over it) (and I have more at home)
• Why? Do? I? Use? So? Many? Of? These?????????????????????????
• one of my students wrote "I love you" in Spanish in his journal which he then turned into me. Should I write back? "No gracias."

One last thing. We had a devotional on Sunday at 5pm. Our church also gets out at 5pm, so my blood sugar was basically in the depths of hell at this point, so I sat in the foyer, ate a sandwich, and listened to the talks over the intercom (intercom?). Intercom. So. The theme of this fireside was "But If Not" (based off this talk, a great talk, by the way). BUT. There was no balance between "But if Not" and "But If So." The poster for this fireside was a close-up of a girl's eye with a solitary tear coming out of it. Uh....depressing. And it was. The fireside, I mean. I felt very discouraged afterwards. And then I came home and all my roommates were saying "But if not!" after every positive remark someone made. Merp.

OK WELL that was a random and pointless blog, you're thinking. And I'm thinking. And everyone is always thinking.

things houston says, part II

Since this made Houston a veritable star last time, I figured I'd do him a solid again, since I made him rub my feet and legs the other night without shaving beforehand. I'm sorry.

H: "They should make a Bourne movie about Jason Bourne getting baptized and call it Jason Born Again."

H: "These road closures are really prickling my pears..."

Seeing the Guava Goddess flavor of kombucha:

"Ooh I want that one, that was my nickname in high school."

*trying to understand why the stop sign in front of the elementary school was flashing at 12am*

"Ummm well there's no flashing at schools so I don't know why they'd have that there."

H: You are so full of condensation right now (trying to say condescension)

Talking about The Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz, CA:

M: "Hey we can get a free bumper sticker!"

H: "Yes! I want it! Then I'll put it on my butt...the mystery spot."

H, about his little brother: "He only weighs like 80 pounds...can't even go on a zip line yet."

H (monologuing): "Cache Valley? No cash valley....more like Student Loan Valley."

(in San Francisco): "Ah, parking garages. Designed by the finest architects in the world."

*imagining the life of a fundamentalist*

"Yeah our family had so many Bump-Its." 

When he was tired/it was late at night: "ugh, I really want a crouton."

*at an art gallery*

H: You know these are scratch n sniff, right?

M: Hey that one is cool

H: You know what would make it cooler? If I was eating a corn dog while I was looking at it."

At the end of That Thing You Do:

"Wink! Wink so the movie will be over!!!"

(I think I was wearing a cardigan...)
H: "Now you can look like one of those hot librarians that has to use a step stool to get books..."

M: "Uhh is it the step stool that makes a librarian hot?"

H: "No, it's just a good angle."
M: ....................................................................

As we were going into a craft store...

H (seriously): "Don't let me buy anything else in here."

*impulse buys soap*
(lest you think I am joking, Houston once told me he never impulse buys anything, except for hand soap, and this is true)

*he was teaching me about welding late at night*

(I gently patted his shoulder and said:)

"You should become a teacher. And I...will become a narcoleptic."

*I was taking forever to get out of his car and holding the door handle*

H: "I think it's just a pull, then push."

*points to bread bag which says "Premium White" on it*

H: "You can put that on me."
M: "Gross."

*in Spanish*

H: "I said "let's light a candle (candela) and invite Nelson Mandela."
M: "k"

H: "If you were a Macy's mannequin I'd window shop you."

H: "During my farewell talk, I called Allie a baller and she cried. Wept. Wept and wept."

H: "What's the difference between your face and the sunset? I can see your face at all times of the day!" 

M: "Whoa that was corny"

H: (sheepishly) "I know... I put the corn on my own cob."

H: "See this face?!"
*long pause*

"I was born with it."

*talking about how we want the Harry Potter movies remade*

H: "That's all I've ever wanted. I also want the church to hire Wes Anderson to make all their movies."

*wearing a skull shirt*

M: "Uhh what is that?"

H: "This is my post-temple attire."
M: ........
H: "It's Nike!"

And, as per tradition, screenshots of our conversations from the last 2 weeks:

No acknowledgement of my dad joke whatsoever. At least he's attentive to my yogurt needs.

I had a headache, and someone in Sunday School mentioned Vietnam Vets. We shouldn't sit by each other anymore. 

Just out of the blue one day, I got this message....

math majors, lolzzzzz

One of my fave things Houston does is show me a math equation he's worked on and then he asks, "Does this look right to you?" 

HA. No. It will never look right to me. Good DAY, sir!

ruhl quick before I go teach class

FALL IS HERE IN CASE YOU DIDN'T ALREADY KNOW

IT'S DECORATIVE GOURD SEASON NOW

The other day Houston said, "If you were a Macy's mannequin I'd window shop you."

So.

I'm compartmentalizing everything these days because I've managed to put myself in a real tight spot this semester, but I gotta graduate, people! And I wanted to make my last semester the easiest it could be, and now I'll only have to take one class in the spring. Just gotta get through the next 3 months without face-planting on my desk, stacked with un-graded papers.

I'll come back later. Right now I need to go teach my students how to not be easily offended by stuff they don't like. 

things I write when I'm putting off finalizing a syllabus

thanks to you,

I now have much better taste in movies. Before we met, I was a self-proclaimed "movie snob" (oof) because I watched movies that were black and white and enjoyed them. Now I know a movie doesn't have to be old, made by Disney, or have a happy ending to be "good."

I know way more about current events and politics. The only thing I ever learned from politics before was from scrolling through Facebook in agony.

I appreciate dad humor (this pains me to say, but pain is a sign of growth, I think #deep).

I am better at asking for things that I need, because nobody is telepathic, even though I sometimes act like they are.

I have a rediscovered love of very bad Mexican food (Beto's, why? Why must you entrap me once again?).

I see a lot of things differently.

When you've been seeing things pretty much one way (your way) for your whole life, it's crazy refreshing to see everything through a different lens.

ur the Bill Murray to my Scarlett J.