This book is peculiar. But in the best sort of way. I put it down and dream of the magical world it has created and can't wait to pick it back up. It's written with an autobiographical voice that makes even the most fantastic events seem like fact. And I cannot get enough of it. I love the interspersing of strange vintage photos throughout the book. It adds to the mystique of the story and while usually I like my imagination to have free reign, I like the guiding quality the photos give to how I picture the characters and story. It gives a sense of credibility.
John and I are on OD rotation. Which, all in all, is good but very tiring at times. But we were having lunch and chatting about Halloween costumes. As we come up to the stairs leading to the school, I begin to mock John asking his wife to dress as Jabba the Hut. Because that is a TERRIBLE costume for anyone who wants to be remotely attractive during halloween. But as I talk and turn to walk up the stairs to the school, I look up and say "Hey Hun!..." and who should I make eye contact with at that exact moment? None other than the Dean of our school. Dean Hutter. He says hello back. And I immediately burst out laughing and awkwardly run into the school. Yup, I accidentally called the Dean of my school HUN. There was no recovering from that one.
Dear [Secret] I have months where you dont cross my thoughts at all. And then there are days at a time where the thought of you rests heavy on my mind. I'm not quite sure why either. Because I am more than comfortable with the reality of our non-existant relationship. I'm not disappointed by the distance between us; I think its quite right. And I do not possess the courage to bridge the gap that has been rightly created. I am cowardly, but mostly I know that reconnecting would be to no end. Because I dont want anything from you and I have nothing to give in return. No thoughtful words of enlightenment or wisdom. Which is why it is so confusing to me that after forgetting about you for a time, all the sudden something will remind me of you, and I'll be overcome with the desire to speak to you again. Its to no end. The friends I confide in roll their eyes and quickly change the subject, all the while non-verbally letting me know that I am pathetic and ought to be more self-restrained; as if my desire is pure romantic folly. Or maybe I project my own feelings on them; my inability to leave thoughts of you be, there is nothing more pitiful. But like you once told me "I wish that the silence between us wasn't so alienating." This time I kept thinking about conversations of substance. And being a person of substance. Its funny the little things that I choose to remember in moments like this. The endless emails you and your father share, where you discuss everything and anything. Sitting around your families dinner table, listening to the conversation. And being intimidated by both. Maybe I've blown the significance out of proportion, but I dont think so. Because there is something completely charming about it to me. Charming and mildly terrifying. Really talking always requires a certain amount of straightforwardness, openness and honesty. And being seen, really seen, leaves me with the feeling that I will always come up lacking. I think I give the impression that I am full of substance - I avidly write in journals, and read classic literature (and appear arrogant about both). But lately as I've been evaluating myself, I fear that I fall short on substance. Oh sure, I debate life like any 14 year old girl. But actually thinking and feeling deeply about complicated matters - well I get tired and never delve too deeply. I would rather be entertained than informed. Conversations of substance, isnt that what ought to be happening with those I profess to be closest to? Shouldnt I be more than just the routine of my life? I do not know how to go about sitting with the people I love the most and actually talking about the things that are important. Actually talking and listening, about things of substance and significance? Well that can be uncomfortable and it is so much easier to just avoid it. I suppose thats why I am so much better written or even on the phone. The distance makes me feel braver than being in person does and I am able to convey much more. But even when I bring it up, I often quickly regret it and pull back. Its odd that I still want to be the person you thought I should have been. But I dont want it because of you and some vain hope at reconciliation. I guess I'm just tired of falling below people's expectations. And below my own. I want to feel that I am the person of substance that people mistake me to be. I just am so paralyzed by my own self-doubt. I want to be a hopeful person; I need to become a hopeful person. I know this. But no one tells you how much hope can hurt. And I'm not good at being hurt. There was a moment during church last week, where I was struck with gratitude to you. And I cant even really say why exactly. But there it was. And as hard as it is to view myself in a critical manner, through your critical manner, I think that thoughts of you instigate my best intentions. Yes, I often fall short, but there is a kind of hope in continually trying to stretch a little taller than I am and be a little better than I was the day before. Even if I dont succeed. Maybe someday I'll tell you that. But knowing myself, probably not.
I am well aware of the fact that I have great parents.
And I certainly dont deserve them most of the time.
I get snippy and become an ornery teenager again. I'm short tempered and melancholy and just plain not fun to be around. And even as my responses come out, I know they're unjustified.
But my parents are patient with me.
They just want me to be happy.
And love me even though I'm a jerk kid.
And I know I'm lucky. Because they are so good to me.
This trip was rather impromptu for them.
I know they worry about me. And dont want me to feel left out since I am so far away. Or alone.
So they do what they can for me. And I know I dont act nearly as grateful as I should for all they do.
But I am grateful.
There is rarely a day where I dont still feel like a child. Dental degree or not, I still feel like I have so much growing up to do. And I depend quite heavily on my parents still. But the thing that caught me off guard as my parents visited, and we ran endless errands (which were all for my benefit but had me banging my head against a wall), was that I am used to being far away and doing things my own way. I may not feel like a grown up in a lot of ways, but I like the independence being an adult has afforded me. Which I suppose is no surprise, considering even as a child I always wanted to do things my own way, regardless of how my parents thought it should be done. Its hard to reconcile the two feelings though. Because on one hand I am still a child, who needs her parents and on the other I know that time has elapsed and as much as my parents support me, they dont live my life for me and I have had to grow up and be on my own.
But I had a heavy patient week, which meant that the majority of what I did with my parents consisted of eating... Um ya... being a little pudgy in family pics is cool right?
This is the jist of the short trip...
Have you been to
It is Awesome BBQ joint.
Took a small jaunt to the Community Boating Center
I was gonna take my parents for a spin, but it was a rather windless day and didnt seem worth it, so they settled for a picture by the boats.
So I'm an awkward girl. Who really needs to be in the right mood to run errands and shop.
Bike shopping was fun for about twenty seconds... and by fun I mean awkward.
But I will concede that the end result is pretty worth how horrendously I hated shopping for it.
Hello new bike.
And hello being caged in the car by said bike.
It was a tight squeeze getting the bike to fit in the car indeed!
My favorite part
My parents wanted to go to the beach.
But it was cold to me - to the point where I needed to be fully clothed at the beach.
And I was tired and grumpy.
But I brought a pillow and a blanket and promptly fell asleep.
It was cold. But I slide my legs into the sand so my blanket could wrap around me tighter.
And when I woke up, I felt much better.
It ended up being my favorite part.
Even though I had pouted about going because of the cold.
Though, hilariously enough, my mom didnt set up shop anywhere near my dad and I.
We each had our own books so it didnt particularly matter. But it was funny.
Especially when I wanted to capture each of us at the beach via photo. I had to scramble over to my mama. Funny lady. To be fair, I chose the sunniest slash walk the least amount spot and she went for the shadiest spot she could find.
The sum of the trip? Food good (particularly the chocolate restaurant we went to). Shopping bad. Less errands and more relaxing next time please.
Its not that I bemoan getting older (cause lets be real, I havent super loved any age enough to want to stop aging). Its mostly that I feel a little forgotten and irrelevant on my birthday. Which is probably due to the fact that sometimes, even my own family forget my birthday. I used to think it was because it was summer and everyone was on vacation. But its probably more that birthdays cause a serious inflation on feeling small and unimportant, just because there is such a pressure and expectation that people will celebrate your existence. It doesnt really happen like that. Ever. I pretty much can remember crying on just about every birthday I've ever had.
Its not a big deal. Its just kind of what it is. Birthdays are just a sad day for me. Extra sensitive or something like that.
But I spent the day doing my first ever age 1 visit on a 13 month old during my Pedo rotation (which was hideous, because I dont love people crying - makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, and you have to be rather forceful with children and I dont particularly like forcing people to do stuff and I had no clue what I was doing and my instructor gave me the case because "you're a girl and they generally do better at this sort of thing"). Everything about it was horrible. And I didnt get all my summatives done because no patients showed up in the afternoon. But I went running and then met up with the crew for some fro-yo. They sang me an embarrassing little Happy Birthday that started with just Aaron and then slowly brought in the entire group (Sabrina, Derrick, Mel, Lucinda, Dan, Alisun).
I was a little bummed that no one had really made plans with me, but honestly, when my birthday rolls around I try my hardest to just accommodate what other people want. They want to celebrate - ok cool. They dont - ok cool.
Since everyone else had post-froyo plans, Alisun suggested a movie with the two of us. Which ended up being a movie at her house. And truthfully, I am not a fun person to be around on my birthday, but Alisun is great and handled it like a champ. She lit a candle for me to blow out and paid for my dinner.
So I may not love my birthday, but I do love my friends. Aaron even said he made me brownies - which I think he's using as leverage to get his dentoform back.
2. The entire Saturday spent sailing.
I'm extra well done.
John wanted to get our mainsail/helmsman certification. And I truthfully didnt feel quite up to par. But I am not one to go against someone else's plans. So I bucked up and we went out this morning for the class and then after a short lunch went out this afternoon to take the test. The helmsman test is a set of buoys in a line that you have to sail around. Ya know... to prove you can sail and control the boat. I was really nervous. 1. It was super windy out today... like while we were practising this morning I almost capsized John and I's boat. 2. It was my first time ever sailing in a boat by myself. 3. The really nice instructor got switched out for the super intense kid who makes me uncomfortably nervous. 4. I have a sailing quota - the point where I get tired and dont function well - and I was most definitely past that. But John had convinced me to try because the worst that happens is they tell me I have to take it again. It was rough going. In fact the intense kid told me he has serious reservations about my sailing cause I had a really rocky start to the test. But he passed me all the same. And in the end, despite the major anxiety I had been feeling, I was glad I let John talk me into just doing it. That group of mine... really do get me to step out of my comfort zone. I told John that he might need to give my nerves a couple weeks to settle before he pushes me to get my next certification.
3. My computer screen has completely broken.
It is NOT supposed to look like that.
Good thing my parents are coming because I think I need a new computer stat!
Sometimes amidst all the pressures that life has to offer, I lose sight of why I do the things that I do. Its easy to do really. Add on some extra insecurities, a smidge of loneliness, maybe some extra stress and a sense of complete inadequacy (all this being encompassed under the heading of dental school daily life) and suddenly you cant remember why you started this entire progress and why you continue with your current lifestyle. I know that probably sounds hideous to more than one person, but honestly, with most of my close friends being non-mormon sometimes I feel like an outsider in every group, like I dont really fit in anywhere, and even though I know that the church is true, I wonder on occasion why I never feel good enough and feel so on my own. I dont love going to church out here. It honestly is a weekly struggle. Because while I'm terribly insecure at church, surrounded by complete strangers, I also feel isolated from my own group of friends.
Lately, for some reason people have been asking me a lot of religious questions involving my beliefs. Besides feeling completely unprepared slash a little on the not qualified to answer questions about the church slash put on the spot, I've been trying to answer to the best of my knowledge and be open about what I believe. Which is difficult for me, because I find spirituality so very personal, and I am not great about letting people know me in such an intimate way. I have all these habits of mine, that people take notice of or are curious about and sometimes its hard to put into words why I do the things I do.
We had a lesson in Relief Society today about testimony. And the big point that she was making was that too often, we let our testimonies be filled with our gratitude and love (which are both good things) but there isnt enough actual knowledge. Being grateful is good. Having a love for God, our families, friends and fellow man is good. But testimonies need to be grounded in knowing something is true. The power of our testimonies comes from our knowledge.
While I ran Saturday, I just kept thinking about going hiking with Dee and Lucinda on Sunday instead of going to church. Its not really a big deal, but the more I thought about it, the more I had the overwhelming feeling that I dont go to church because I have to. I want to be there. Even when I dont. I am not really sure what was different about this night from other nights. But my need to be at church was palpable. It quite honestly made me remember my first year of University when I had realized that no one was going to make me go to church. And I had to choose whether I would continue to go or not go. It still amazes me that almost eight years after I first really made the decision that going to church regularly is what I want in my life, that I would come to the same conclusion again. As I meandered home after my run, I thought a lot about the feelings I was having. And how good it felt. I worried that my friends would be disappointed on me bailing, but I knew I needed to bail regardless of whether or not this would result in me feeling left out.
I know that going to church is something I want in my life. It is the right choice and a good choice. Even if it is hard. And it was really nice to have the reminder that I possess that knowledge still.
Remember how Alisun laughed and said I looked like a crazy person post-mock boards... And no amount of me bragging would subside her laughter... Well she wanted a picture to capture the moment. Today I get this via text message...
"If this is what perfection looks like I'm ok with mediocrity"
HA. What can I say? I'm a little ok with my crazy outta control hair.