The Uses of Sorrow

Planning is Everything

I don't consider myself a planner. I procrastinate, and wing just about everything that I do. It's a terrible habit.  Impossible to break. One the other hand, it seems I have to make these plans, or set out these ideas at least, of how I think my life is going to be. I honestly try not to do it, because it is utterly pointless. It never, and I mean never, turns out how I plan. You think I would have learned my lesson.
As it turns out, I haven't.

I seriously lay in bed at night, trying to arrange it all out, making list in my head. It actually keeps me up. I'm going to marry this person, or get this job, or move to this certain place. But next thing I know that place, that job, that person... is out of the picture. It almost seems like anything I can scrounge up to build off of, disappears just as I work it all out.

Dwight Eisenhower once said, "Plans are nothing, planning is everything."

I pray that holds truth.

My ideas about love are forever changing.

V.I.M. - Vomit In Mouth

Being in the business of creating is scary. You have to put a part of yourself out there. Out there for criticism, mockery, and judgement. It is a part of you, how can you not take it personal. There is no right answer. No amount of studying will make you any better. Either you have it, or you don't. It is a risk, a chance, and a hell of a gamble. Every class, every assignment, every design. Find me another major that brings on that kind of a challenge.

Vim. That was the name I came up with for our "All Natural Energy Drink." Honestly I was quite fond of it.  I pinned it up on the board with all the others, and my teacher actually didn't hate it... until out of the corner I hear. "haha V.I.M. like vomit in mouth? ...that is what me and my friends used to say when we were younger."
Everyone laughed at the irony. ..except me.

Really?

"Boo, you whore."

I would say hello, but I am an introvert.

I made a resolution to be more outgoing. Which is almost physically painful for me. I don't really consider myself shy, just indifferent. Regardless, lately I feel like it has been holding me back. So that is why I am stepping it up.

How is it going?

1.) I talked to a couple of girls in my painting class... and by talk I mean I just made a couple snide comments about the class. 

2.) I started up a conversation with a fella in my Photo class, and he turned out to be really cool. 

3.) I also sat RIGHT NEXT to somebody in my Natural Disasters class, and he striked up a conversation so I guess that one was a joint effort.  

These are my ginormous strides. 

but I guess I need to consider the step I took backwards when I ignored that one annoying kid who wouldn't stop sharing his every thought with me. They aren't all gems buddy, you shoulda quit while you were ahead. 

& that is why I am an introvert. 

Walk away, or try harder?

"One of the hardest parts of life is deciding whether to walk away, or try harder?"

Brain says walk away. Heart says try harder.

Is it always like that?

I want things with him to work out so badly I can feel it all slipping out of my control. Fight or flight? I guess it is just a matter of determining what I am willing to risk. 

Should I dive head first into dark waters?

Brain says walk away. Heart says... go for it. 

Day 10 - You want me to what?

Tired. 

So, so tired.

Another sunday at church as a mother of five. We were late, of course. The first half of sacrament meeting passed without any major disaster. Besides my constant shushing, I actually thought everyone was behaving pretty ok, considering. I could no longer fight the urge to use the bathroom so I tell Preston to keep an eye on everyone for a couple a minutes. I'm in the bathroom, about thirty seconds later I hear Preston yelling through the door, calling my name. Annie runs in frantic looking through the crack in the stall yelling something about blood. It had been 30 seconds. I'm not even exaggerating. 

I hurry out to find Annie with a mouth full of blood. "Stupid Owens head hit my mouth! Don't pull it out! Don't pull it out!" I try to calm her down so I can assess the situation. Sure enough, she conked it pretty hard, and her tooth was about ripe to fall right out. I grab some paper towels for her to soak up the blood, and she seems satisfied with the the antidote and heads back into the meeting. 

"Preston! I was gone for 30 seconds... 30." I whisper exhasperated. The friendly family sitting in front of us turned back and gave me a look of empathy. Annie practically yells out, " I don't like you Owen, you and your stupid head, it's so stupid!" People try not to look back but I can see everyone around us holding back laughs. Luckily we made it through the rest of the meeting, without too many other tragedies.

The next two hours are mine. The only ones I get all week. Sunday school passes quite uneventful, and them comes relief society. They introduce me as a guest visiting, then addressing me the president asks, "Do you have your dog? A family in the ward found one in their backyard..." Well this is awkward "Uhh, I think so" I say pretty hesitant. Due to the fact it is nearly impossible to keep track of that dog, he magically seems to escape on a daily basis to roam the neighborhood.  I try to think back to this morning, in the blur of things... did I ever see Charlie? Some lady speaks up from the other side of the room "Oh, it's the Meldroms." I sigh with relief and give it no more thought. 

We get home, have lunch, lounge, have dinner, and at about 6:00 a lady comes to the door to drop off Charlie. Apparently it was our dog after all. HOW EMBARRASSING! He is all muddy and cold so Annie is persistent that we give him a bath... only I don't do dog baths. I have had a dog all growing up and I have given a bath once. I love dogs. I loath dog baths. So, I tell Preston to help them give him a bath, but of course that is the last thing he wants to do. So I say "dishes or dog..?" He chooses dog which I am more than happy about. They fill up the bath, and drag in the dog, and for the next few minutes I hear nothing but absolute chaos. Five kids, and one dog that is terrified of water. They try just about everything, besides the obvious of lifting him into the bath. Preston comes out frantic, "We can't do it! You have to!" 

I brace myself and carefully squeeze through the door. It's just me and him. They have placed a bunch of treats on the opposite side of the tub in hopes his love for food with triumph his fear of water. He's propped him tummy up on the edge and is attempting to reach across with his tongue. So distraught he starts to howl. Next thing I know his determination to get the treats has led him to believe there is some way of walking along the far edge to get to the other side, not even a small dog could pull that off and Charlie is no small dog. I burst out laughing, seriously the funniest thing I've seen in weeks. Eventually he gives up and goes back to balancing his tummy on the edge and reaching across. He gets far enough that I just give him a little push and in he goes. I hold him down and tell Preston to scrub him, preston starts squirting conditioner all over his back. "What are you doing? Don't you have like dog shampoo?" I ask. 

Looking confused he retorts, "I don't know! We wash him like once a year." ... of course that once has to be during the 11 day period I happen to be here. "Well at least use the shampoo!" I call in Annie and Simon to take my place and slip out.  I sit down to collect myself and next thing I know the door opens and the dog comes running out, right into the parents room, right onto the bed. Not only does he lay down on the bed, he rolls around ..and around. Awesome, more laundry. 

I hate giving the dog a bath. That much has remained unchanged.