8.08.2017

In Defense of Boring Normalcy





You may have noticed my lack of presence on social media as of late.  Or maybe you didn’t, but it doesn’t matter. The point of leaving was not to make people “miss me,” although I know some people do that now as a way to get some kind of weird validation/attention.



No, I was just sick of it all. Almost everything I saw on social media (especially Instagram, but Twitter and Facebook and Snapchat, too) was fake.


Today I signed a sympathy card for a co-worker who lost a parent suddenly. I opened the card and my pen hovered over it for half a minute or so, because what do you say? What can you say that doesn’t sound completely insincere, even though you’re trying to be genuine? The truth is, you can’t. Not really. But acknowledging this and accepting it is better than pretending uncomfortable and awkward and painful things don’t happen at all, and happen to everyone. That’s what I kept seeing on the internet.


Woman’s husband goes missing with no plausible explanation. Internet forums spread like poison, saying truly awful things about this woman and her family. Do they know her? Doesn’t matter. On the internet, humanity seems to be a lesser priority than looking/being a certain way for others (also strangers).


Blogger posts a picture of her kid on a bike without a helmet, in the driveway. Again, people say gross, nasty things to her, condemning her parenting. I’m betting none of them are perfect parents.


The most popular pictures are mostly staged, showing a girl’s “good angles” or her husband’s perfect sleeping face, or an untouched meal. When people talked about being depressed or anxious because of this pressure to be perfect, most every one of their followers reached out saying “me too.” I began to wonder. Social media was starting to be confusing. Like yogurt.


Yogurt has probiotics and it’s generally good for you. But buy the wrong brand and you’ll be eating mostly sugar. But whatever, it’s all yogurt, right? This is a bad metaphor but I’m sticking with it.


After I deactivated my Instagram, I immediately noticed how much time I had in a day. I used to lament in my prayers every night-- “Heavenly Father, please help me have more time to get things done.” Help me have more time. Ha! What a goofy prayer. I hope God knows what I meant when I said that prayer, but uh, we can’t have more time than we’ve got. It’s already been allotted to us. Anyway, I realized this face-smacking obvious fact when I got rid of the biggest distraction of all: other people living their lives. Or taking pictures of their lives. See? Confusing. Yogurt.

I also stopped taking pictures of everything. This might be a negative, but okay...I’m just going to say it...not everything in my life requires a picture for me to remember it. And maybe I didn’t want to remember the day I did laundry all day and killed a giant spider in the hallway for the umpteenth time (mostly I just don’t want to remember we have spiders in our basement). Maybe a normal day is just that--normal! And kinda boring. But who cares? Most days are like that.


Even though I wasn’t taking pictures, I was noticing things more. I had never seen the giant sunflower patch near our house until yesterday. I’m slightly embarrassed to admit this, but I know it can happen to all of us.


I was tired--literally brain-fried--from coming up with a caption for everything. I didn’t see the point of sharing what came in my Amazon packages (Cetaphil lotion and a windshield protector--sexy, I know). You know those “unboxing” videos that are becoming popular now? They just made me feel like I had to buy all the things! And I didn’t. I don’t. I have plenty.


That was the other thing I began to notice--how grateful I am. I don’t need a single thing! Once you need less, you have more. I have health insurance. I have boring five dollar lotion when my elbows get dry. Most days I don’t wear makeup, which is a sweaty burden in the summertime. I haven’t painted my nails in three months. My husband is a really nice guy, who makes me laugh every day. I have a good relationship with my parents. I work in a library and have access to so many BOOKS! (that’s another thing I’ve been doing more of...reading). I get to ride my bike to work, which feels nice. All my organs work relatively well. I have Spotify. And even when something goes wrong and I want to cry (and usually do), the next day, the sun inevitably comes back up... and burns my neck on the way to work.


In short, I’m alive. Most days are not glamorous by any stretch. But I’m trying to love them all. I’m grateful God gave me this time. And even if I’m never a gazillionaire with a huge wardrobe and a year-long travel log and a six pack, I will still feel like I didn’t deserve any of it. When I’m not worrying about what everyone else thinks of me or my life, it leaves more room for serving and loving them, and myself.
Good ol’ King Benjamin tell us how:


And again I say unto you as I have said before, that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel.


And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God, and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true.”
Mosiah 4:11-12 (I would recommend reading verses 13-30 too)

6.12.2017

me: "I just want attention right now." houston: "then please write a blog post about me."

This is the first post I have written since being marriaged. Houston is rubbing my feet while I write another blog post of our conversations (he likes to think these posts are all about him, but he wouldn't have anyone to impress with his wit if it weren't for me). 

H: "And on the couch you will find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes." 


H: "Did u know I've proposed to so many girls they call me the Lord of the Rings?"

Houston: "I was the fastest guy in my high school....{long pause}... at fifteen puzzle."



From Jaws: "all they do is swim, eat, and make little sharks."
Houst: "that's all I wanna do!

*at DI*
"Should we set the lampshades on fire and play Modest Mouse?"
"I have crinkle chips"
Me: "I want ironed chips..from the ironed curtain."

M: "I need some gloves."
H: "I have some Michael Jackson gave me. They're all for the left hand though."

H: "If I walked up to you and said 'hey soul sister I'm your mister mister' what would be your response?"
M: "I would punch you ."
H: "Right response." 

H: "I could've picked the princess in the guarded tower, but..instead I picked the one who was always asleep. "

(When watching Skyfall)
H: "You know how the bad guy had fake teeth? Do you think he called them Judy Denchers?" 
cute

H: "When we get married, what are you gonna do at night when you realize I'm a vigilante? 
You'll turn to me and say "oh baby come closer" but I'll be gone. And so will the curtains cuz I'll be wearing them."

*At the Thai restaurant they were out of wontons*
Houston: "It's probably because they closed Wontonomo Bay."

*staring at the rock face in Zion*
H: "How much do you think it would cost to get my face chiseled on that rock?" 

*arguing about plot holes in About Time and him saying Pokémon is better "There's no plot holes in Pokémon!!"

"One day I'll have a boat just for ferrying fishermen. I'm going to name it Carrie Fisher." 

"My phone is like TGI Fridays....endless apps."

*at Best Buy*
Do you remember the guy who helped you?
Uhhh he had a blue polo on.

*on our way to Greek food* H: "I'm the Greekiest Greek Greek Freak."

"Oh I think I'm gonna need frozen yogurt to get through this."
*going into wal mart*
"You're just like Survivorman...but instead of a Swiss Army knife your thing has plastic spoons."

moi: "Oh honey..."
H: "Uh, please call me by my Christian name."

Me: "To every season turn turn turn.... "
H: "To every butter churn churn churn"

H: (no context) "When are we gonna get our next Justin Bieber? First we had Aaron McCarter, then Bieber...but now...we are in an apostasy until God chooses another Bieber." 

*watching LOTR and somebody said Mordor*
H: "Lowe's has more doors."

M, regarding littering: "The world is not your trash can!"
H: "But the trash can is my world."

4.19.2017

@ my future: don’t be hasty



Tonight I was packing up my room for the umpteenth time + all the STUFF (pointless stuff) I’ve accumulated over the years and I started to think, as one does....when I started to realize how much of myself has been collecting itself behind me, like a little trail. So I started to get a little nostalgic, because duh. I have so many journals full of entries like this one:


“Sometimes I just WANT to be married and sometimes I’m content being alone. I think I need to be with someone who makes me prefer not being alone, because I honestly really like it.”


Yeah. Yep. Did you know I was two days overdue because I was just too comfy in my mom’s womb? (sorry mom) The doctors even put her on Pitocin, but I would not budge. She got into a Jacuzzi and I floated around happily. #INTROVERT She chewed on ice chips through those contractions and I was like “No thank you, I’m not coming out!”


I’ve always kept myself far from change--as far as I could, anyway. But then 2014 happened. The Butterfly Year. Is that we call those? The year (or years) of life when you metamorphasize from a fuzzy, hungry, fat caterpillar who mostly sleeps into...A CREATURE THAT FLIES! (one is obviously better than the other) That was my year. As evidenced by those aforementioned journal entries (many of them stained with tears), that was the year God really tested me...at times to the point where I thought I would surely break.


I filled up word documents with quotes to help heal the wounds. And I wrote. I prayed, and I ran. Yes, literally running away from my problem(s) helped. I talked to my parents probably more than I ever had before. And slowly, I healed. But then I was a different person--a better version of myself. And that person wanted different things than Kenzie 1990-2013 had wanted. Or maybe she just wanted to obtain those things differently. I mean, nothing was working my way. I decided to bend.


“And we, ourselves, also, through the infinite goodness of God, and the manifestations of his Spirit, have great views of that which is to come; and were it expedient, we could prophesy of all things.
And it is the faith which we have had on the things which our king has spoken unto us [faith in Christ] that has brought us to this great knowledge, whereby we do rejoice with such exceedingly great joy.”
Mosiah 5:3-4 (emphasis added)
I finally finished applying for grad school, after dragging my feet for ages. Seriously--I knew I should apply for grad school a week before I graduated from BYU-Idaho. In 2012. I took the GRE in Fall 2013. Didn’t bother looking at the results because I wanted to stay right where I was. But after 2014, I decided to stop ignoring those promptings I was getting and just see what happened. So I did. I moved to Logan without knowing a single soul there, save for Emily, who let me stay in her house for a week (I still love you for that, Em. And for the pillow chocolates). I lived out of my car for that week, too. I was so embarrassed to be driving around the town with pillows and lampshades and boxes in the backseat of my car. I didn’t eat very much because I didn’t get paid until October 1st (sorry mom...again).


I started teaching college English classes--something you never would’ve caught me imagining, let alone actually doing, not even a year before. I began to write again--for real. Words came out of me that I didn't know were there. I cried a lot. I kept praying, man. I didn't give up but I wanted to all the time. The insomnia that first semester of grad school nearly did me in (BaRF). Something funny happens after you turn into a butterfly--you don’t become invincible. Hard things still happen to you. In fact, their frequency probably increases a little bit. But dontcha see? It’s because you were never meant to be a butterfly or a caterpillar or any kind of insect because you’re a human, dangit! And humans are divine.


As soon as I began to let go of all the things I wanted to control about my life and give them to someone who knew me better than I did, my life changed. I changed. Everything about the last two years is still surreal to me. Every bit of it. I could’ve never guessed that any of it would happen.


And so, if you’re worried or anxious about your future, thinking that maybe something you really, really want isn’t in the cards for you...well, I bet it is. And it’s probably gonna be even better than you think, because you’re not a butterfly yet. Have I beaten that metaphor to death yet?

I re-read those journal entries from 2014, and guess what? I got everything I was mourning over/praying for, but it came to me tenfold.

Don't give up. Don't do it. It's a trick.

4.06.2017

what is "blogging"?



replace "leather shop" with "intimate wedding and elopement photographer" and "Arizona" with "Utah"

Guys.

GUYS IT'S ME.

*shakes your shirt collar dramatically*

How many of you are wondering if I used those asterisks-thoughts in my thesis? Well, well, well.
I. Didn't.

I hardly remember how to do this anymore. What do I say? What do you guys wanna know? Who are you? Isn't blogging dead now (thanks Instagram, thanks for the....for nothing)? ??????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

One of these days an entire blog post of mine is just gonna be question marks and that's it.

Uh, so I guess updates? I don't have a fancy camera and I'm not a videographer and I don't wear the fancy hats and I guess that's what validates a blog nowadays but I'll probably never have/be those things, at least not as long as this blog exists, so bear with me.

Speaking of "bear with me," I've seen it spelled a bit differently in my time grading papers these past two years. Yes. Bare with me. That sounds like an invitation to get naked. No thank you.

Other unfortunate misspellings:

I would of spelled this correctly if I knew how. I really would of done that if I could of but I can't of.

And then people become out ragged.

Yeah, I get out ragged when you can't spell things, too.

Teachers shouldnt give students so much homework becuz the students get tired and then don't get anything dun. Which is bad for their health. 

Totally agree with you, buddy.

Recently I went to the doctor for a follow-up what I thought was a follow-up. But it wasn't, because as soon as she walked in, her eyes pointed to the robe. And she was like "When I come back in here you need to be wearing just that."

"Sorry. I can't. I'm allergic to nudity."



When I was 11, I got my period for the first time (you all know that story). My mom was good at comforting me (for the most part), but there was one line forever burned into my brain back then, and it came back to haunt me as I sat on the exam table:

"Oh McKenzie. I'm excited for you to experience the Stirrup Phase of your life." Girl, you know she said "excited" with that twinge of sarcasm and regret for having given me the extra x chromosome. Wait. That wasn't her fault. #science

The Stirrup Phase is the name of a book we'll be co-authoring in a few years, give or take (however long it takes me to become mature, so, could be ages from now).

I cannot write all the things she said at this appointment because this is...on the internet and I can't overshare everything but let's just say if Betty White + Professor McGonagall were one person, that person would...definitely not be an OBGYN but, if she were, she would be my doctor.

Dear Diary,
My first blog post in months was a roaring success. 


1.01.2017

things houston says: third degree

I couldn't think of any other term including the word "third" besides "the third man," and that's....that's not what I wanted to say.

so innocent. er...innocent-looking. 

"I should become a de-motivational speaker. People will listen to me talk and think 'Wow, nothing is possible.'"

"I was at the Minnesota Vikings game, and they were selling deep fried cheese curds with bacon bits in them. Eating those is probably the worst thing you could be caught doing."
"But you ate them?"
"Yeah, of course.

Me: "I'm always worried about running into him."
H: "Well, just never run."

"I like to know what events I'm missing so I have more pleasure when I'm doing the other thing instead. [for example] I think his town hall is boring but I could be at the trebuchet activity."

Somebody mentioned the Spice girls. Houston: "I love that band! Them and the Dixie Chicks."

H: "You pulled up to me with wild abandon."
H: "With gusto."
M: "With Gaston!"
H: "...."
M: "It was worth a shot."
H: "Harambe was worth a shot."

*veers wildly into the street and begins to play the Black Keys*
"Now that you're probably savoring your life a bit more, you can really enjoy this song."

*accidentally touches my butt*
H: "Sorry, I didn't notice where it merged into butt."
M: ?????????
H: "It's true though. I hadn't ascended the hill yet."

(no context) H: "I don't remember any of my dentists."

*putting our hands together*
Me: "What movie is this from?"
H: "Just Like Heaven." 
Me: "How do you know that?"
H: "I've seen every chick flick every MADE. *whispers* I saw Something Borrowed....twice."

*at the grocery store, we saw a group of people straight outta the 90s
M: "Why are they wearing turtlenecks and overalls?"
H: "They're wearing their parents clothes or something..."

M: "This is a roller coaster I never wanted to get on!"
H: "Are you having emotion-sickness?"

M: "I need the blanket...are you on it?"
H: "I need meth...are you on it?"

*talking about a certain movie
M: Who was the director of that one?
H: He who must not be named...*voice lowers* James Cameron.

*sees sign*
"I hope someday I can hold that title!"

*talking about 12 tribes of Israel*
"I'm from a tribe...called Quest." 

(I was tired and couldn't complete a sentence) 
H: "Yeah...sometimes when people look at my face...they just can't finish their sentences. A cop pulls me over and just goes uhh...you can go."
I write THEM a ticket. For disturbing MY peace. 

Houston: "We'd be the hottest couple in hell."

Everyone: "Wanna watch Gilmore Girls?"
Houston: "No. I have testicles."

*very seriously to me* H: "Have you ever had an account at farmersonly.com?"

"Next year we should have Thanksgiving in a mattress store."

H: "How tall are you again?"
M: "5'3"
I was just wondering if you could join the lollipop guild...

H: "What kind of mom do you think Bath-Sheba was?"

M: "My dad took a class from High Nibley."
H: "Hugh Nibley took a class from me."

*before Christmas devotional*
H: "I don't want a nose ring...I want an eye ring (Eyring)."

Me: "[Star Wars] Episodes 1-3 were so bad."
Houston: "Yeah that's why they originally aired on the Hallmark Channel."
DAGGER IN THE HEART

*loud growl*
Me: "Oh that was my stomach."
H: "Oh I thought it was a train passing above the house."

*sees woman using walker*
H: "Do you think she named it Paul?"

Houston, introducing me at Thanksgiving dinner: "She's constantly on the verge of her next nap."

*Sees guy sweeping salt at Sam's Club*
H: "Geez, save some for the Lake."

H: "The show Naked and Afraid is about people using the showers in the MTC."

M: "You think everything is a front. See that Herberger's over there? It's a front."
H: "There's no way Herbergers stays in business if it's not a front!" 
(but really...everything is a front to Houston)

*looks at self in self checkout*

H: "Self checkout..."

*this happened as I was typing up this blog post*
H: "When we have a daughter can we name her Lisa?"
*long pause*
"And then name our son...Bart?"
Me: "no."

Recently, Houston and I decided to start a music blog. Yesterday we were coming up with URL ideas. This is what Houston came up with over an excruciating hour of brainstorming:
  • www.hamwisebanshee.com
  • www.ringostarfish.com
  • www.JohnCenaaaaaa.com (we had to spell it with five A's because everything else was taken)
  • www.cucumberslumber.com (he said this one in a very sing-song voice)
  • www.jumpropes4kids.com (???????)
  • www.swoonthewizard.com (again, what?)
  • www.RichardDryFace.com
  • www.logspot.com (obviously a blog about logs)
  • www.forrestgrump.com
  • www.DanielNightLewis.com

12.16.2016

walkin' in a slushy wetland full of discarded gum wrappers and sadness

What? I don't write the Christmas Carols, I just...sing them.

It's that time of year when Christmas is literally one week away and I'm still drowning in grading. And, just to make sure those eyebags of mine never go away, I signed up for an online class. During the break. During the three weeks of the year when I should be writing my thesis. Yes, during that time.


I haven't posted much on this blog this semester because of reasons like such as because oh wait what was I saying? 

As I was grading earlier today, I happened upon this line: "Unrealistic is defined as something that is not real." 

Me:

sad: there were other lines just like that one
sadder: this was the first image that popped up on Google search when I typed "Kuzco's poison"
saddest: the comment underneath the image

SO ANYWAY HOW IS EVERYONE ELSE DOING.

This isn't supposed to be a complaining post but it's starting to turn into one....werhph. You know what, this is my blog, and I can spell things wrong all I want and I can complain and then one day this blog will be archived, just like DJ Trump's Twitter. Just think about that for a second....wait no maybe don't.

this week:
  • I consistently went to bed at 1am only to fall asleep at around 3am, which happens to be the same time the birds living in my ceiling wake up. 
  • YEAH THERE'S BIRDS LIVING IN MY CEILING.
  • Anyway.
  • I slept in my clothes twice. There is no longer a difference between my asleep clothes and my awake clothes.
  • I responded to a student email with "Hey girl" before I realized who I was talking to
  • I found an M&M in my bed and threw it on my nightstand, whereupon it broke into like 5,000 pieces. I shrugged and went back to bed.
  • I cried in the shower a couple times (totally normal for this time of year, don't werrryy, mom).
  • I watched one too many Hallmark movies (more than 0 is too many). Every year, g-dangit. Every year I think I won't get sucked in and then I start to watch one and get confused by all the plot holes and fast forward to the end and roll my eyes and then watch another one. Is this how addicts feel? Must be.
  • I had a brownie and/or cookies for lunch...thrice. 
  • I used the word thrice.
Hey what day is it? Because I keep thinking it's Wednesday and Wednesday has only happened once this week so I know I'm wrong.

I might need a stretcher by the time May 5th rolls around. 




11.03.2016

things that matter/things that don't


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.'"