Day by day, nothing seems to change.

But pretty soon, everything is different.



And it seems the best you can do is curl up in a ball with a cup-o-noodles and watch Friends.

It's your escape.

And, sometimes, escaping is the best we can do.
So we roam free. And, within our minds, cup-o-noodles in hand, we escape.

Today, this is where my escape has led me.

To Vermont. A cabin amongst thousands of trees. And maybe a lake nearby.

And in this cabin, there will be a piano.
And a bed for two.
With the man I love laying in it.

My heart aches for this more than anything.
This is the perfect escape.
Especially with autumn at the tips of our fingers.


I feel like going out and buying myself a new sweater.

Happy Birthday!

To the cutest fly in the entire world!

 

She is the most beautiful 18 year old in the world.
And may this next year of her life be the best yet.

We will forever be best flies.

Happy Birthday, Hanny. I love you very very very very very very VERY much.








I love Han because she's intuitive. And in touch with the world. And brilliant. And she always knows exactly what to say when I'm feeling blue.
She's so beautiful.


Why do you love Hannah?

I'm currently watching the news.

Yes. I watch the news. Often.
Don't ask questions.

I'm sitting in the University of Utah Union Building, eating an Italian sub, watching the news on a large television with many other students in similar situations.

Currently, on CNN, there are two men in two different locations who are discussing the current standpoint of the American government.
They are both dressed nicely with suit coats on. One in a blue button up with gray hair and perfectly make-upped skin. The other in a green button up, with flaming red hair, and a very obnoxious laugh and a perfectly white smile.
They look hilarious in front of their fake backgrounds of city lights and bell towers.
I like to watch the news. The reporting men and women are talking mannequins. They are so fascinating to me.
Like... Do they even have souls?!
Probs not.
(Yeah. I said "probs." Love me for who I am.)

Anyway. These two make-up wearing men are having a very scripted conversation.
But it's kind of wonderful.

The red headed man said something truly brilliant earlier.

"We need to revert our focus from the flower gardens and the construction and the looks. It's time to focus on and fix the structure of our government itself before we continue to worry about the beautification of our country."


You know, this is such an important lesson.
Not only about our country, but about ourselves.

We need to worry about the structure of our inner-selves before we spend more money or more time on the way that we look to everyone else.

We're all made up of broken pieces.
We cover up this broken-ness by endlessly trying to make ourselves look better.
In America, bettering yourself means "dye your hair" or "get a boob job" or "buy some new clothes."

In real life, you aren't your hair or your boobs or your clothes.

You are you.

You can change your appearance as much as you want.
But "pretty" has never been the same as "happy."

Beauty does not determine happiness.

count me with the real college kids.

because i did just have a chocolate sauce and whipped cream fight.


"hey, you smell like chocolate."
"oh, that's just my sweet spirit."

"does anyone who has clean hands wanna take a picture?"
"i have clean hands... and a pure heart."


byu humor. gets me every time.

han

attention mr. man.

there is either a) something very weird about me that sends boys running or b) something about me too great for any boy to try and pursue.
i wonder about this. most of the time i'm completely fine with it. but times like these where half your classmates are married and the other half are in relationships make you wonder.
so i'd like to make a public announcement.

man who is either a) accepting enough to love whatever is weird about me or b) smart enough to like me:
my name is hannah. maybe you've seen me around. i wear lipstick sometimes. that's probably my identifying factor. i walk around with headphones in my ears but if you tapped me on the shoulder, i'd take them right out. but if you see me walking without them in, i've decided it's a day to pay attention to the world. just approach me slowly and tell me what you notice. i may look busy sitting under that tree, but trust me, i'm not. i'm only writing letters. i'd write you one if i knew who you were.
i guess i'm a little bit desperate to be writing to you on a blog, but at least i'm not as desperate as all these other girls around here with signs in their windows that read things like, "free cookies call 801-225-4444" or "they say you are what you eat, funny, i don't recall eating a sexy beast this morning" (so classy, girls.)
i'm not that picky, all i ask is that you're kind. kind and respectful and open and faithful and willing to dance in the kitchen with me. the big 5. swooshy hair is preferred, but you could make up for that in smiles.
if i seem snooty, i'm not. i'm just trying to take it all in. i'm just trying to see all the people that pass me. if it's a turn-off that i walk around looking at the tops of trees rather than looking for you, then this letter isn't for you. and take living with plants, and then you'll understand.
i'd cook for you if you'd go to the grocery store and get the food for me. i hate that place.
i've gotten close before, but things never work out with people of your kind. i'm not sure what changes their minds. it could be that they're just not right for me. but i'd be a little bit ready for you if you're ready for me.
no commitment.
all i'm looking for is a buddy to watch movies with me on the laptop and sit under trees and eat ice cream. maybe you could hold my hand too. we'll see.
oh, and i'd be a goner if you showed up holding a water bottle filled with sunflowers. just a hint.

let me know when you exist,

hannah.

Creep #3

Welcome to my math class.

Please notice the attractive male wearing the John Deere hat. He is the apple of my eye every Monday and Wednesday night from 6-7:45. I don't know his name yet. But I will.

However, I'm not going to talk about him.
The person I would like to tell you about is the even more attractive male to the right of John Deere.


Anyone who knows me can tell you that there is a very special place in my heart for old men.
 
Yes, my friends. That, there, with the gray hair, is the love of my life.
His name is Doug. And this time, I'm not making it up. I really know that his name is Doug.
I know this because I asked him.

We sit next to each other in math sometimes.

He's majoring in Political Science. He finally made the decision to come and finish school after 45 years.


He asks more questions than anyone in the class.
He has a back-pack-on-wheels.
And I find it so endearing when he pushes his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.

"It's okay, kid. It took me 67 years to decide what I wanted to do with my life. You've got plenty of time to figure it out."

He is a real gentlemen.

And a true scholar.

And I love everything about him.

i love the weekends.

it's kind of a shame how much we live for the weekend. but you know. it's fine when your weekends consist of going on the campus tree tour with the redhead's mother and brother, seeing your long lost USU buddy, meeting up with old friends, singing "one and only" by adele with the melty-eyed one all the way to provo, and partying in a vintage photo booth at the most beautiful wedding ever (especially when you chose to do that instead of attending the horrid football game).
it was oh so good.

hope you had a blast as well.

i am so. so happy lately.

sometimes i find there's magic in the air. there always has been.
i just didn't notice it.

look around you.
see it.
feel it.
live it.

cheers.

Glory.

My life is mixed up in a humorous way.
I wouldn't even know how to describe it.

All I know is that I have a sudden dream. And I'm willing to fight until the very end to get it.

I'm not scared of me anymore. And I'm not scared of failure anymore. And I'm not scared of what that one boy, who means so much and yet so little, thinks anymore. And I'm not scared to try anymore. And I'm not scared to speak anymore. And I'm not scared of pain anymore.

And I'm not scared to let go.
Not scared to move on.


Fear is merely my past.
Hard work is my present.
And success beyond measure is my future.



And now, more than ever, I'm free.

back in the groove.

remember last fall?
i was so happy.
and then i lost it.
not that i was unhappy,
but we go through those cycles, you know? very happy, peaceful, calm, nostalgic, sad, happy again.
well i'm coming back to joy.
and it didn't happen when i graduated. it didn't happen when i said goodbye. it didn't happen right when i said hello. it didn't happen in france and it didn't happen at home.
it happened in a tunnel.
twice in a tunnel.
the first time, sunday night, i was surrounded by hundreds of students. we sang hymns by the flashlight and everyone's voice sounded beautiful. even mine. we prayed for those who lost their lives for our country that fateful day ten years ago. tears collected in the corners of eyes. god be with you 'til we meet again, i sang in the direction of two blocks away.
and tonight.
literally right after i published that last post about realizing that my purpose is to love, i got a call to meet with the bishop about a calling. and guess what i am? family home evening mom. i found it so ironic because i'm not an activity person. single's ward fhe has never sounded especially appealing to me. but it's already made me better. i am responsible for unconditionally loving eleven of my peers. i feel it already.
we went to the tunnel and we played soccer. and even though i missed the ball every time i laughed more than i have in a while and i was honored to be in the center of the family photo.
i remembered why i was so happy last fall. it was because my focus was serving others.
that's what i'm returning to.

so i guess it doesn't matter where you are.
it matters where your heart is.

my heart feels a lot more at home.

this is not the sound of a new man or a crispy realization

it's the sound of the unlocking and the lift away,
your love will be
safe with me.

re: stacks--bon iver

i love the music most that doesn't tell me a story. i love the kind that gives me words and melodies and tells me to make my own story.
and today it's this song.
it's that last verse that reminded me why i'm here.
i always forget.
i'm not here to be in charge or stand out, i'm not one of the recognized ones.
i'm here to be a friend and that's my word. friend.
i always have these friends, and i want to help them. i want to make them happy and lots of times i want to try and force them to see something i see. and i get discouraged and i ask why, how, what am i supposed to do?
what am i supposed to do?
and i always get the same answer: you're doing it. just love them. love them all the way.

that's my purpose, and it always has been. and this is a promise that i will always keep:

your love will be safe with me.

Just drive.

There comes a time in a young person's life where they realize that time is against them.

You will never have enough time.

And no matter how hard you fight for a red light, it will turn green and you'll be on your way, wondering how the hell you managed to leave everything behind and why you can't turn around to go back and get it.

Because life is a one way street and your car is stuck on cruise control and you will never ever ever be able to manage your own speed.
You'll just keep going.

Sometimes you can sit in this constantly moving car with the windows down and music blasting, laughing all the while because you're enjoying yourself. Sometimes life is enjoyable.
Sometimes you cry, and as the rain hits the windshield, you find yourself driving away from a best friend or a lover.
Sometimes you're angry, and you can't stop looking in the rear-view mirror, hoping that looking long enough will bring its contents to the windshield. But no matter how long you stare into that rear-view mirror, the past is not going to come back. You can think about it or wish for it as much as you want, but it isn't going to happen.

You can't go back. You have to move on.


And sometimes you give up.

You take your hands off the steering wheel, fully prepared to get into a fatal accident.
And just as this moment of bravery is about to take its toll, you realize how stupid you are, and you quickly grab hold of the wheel again and swerve back onto the road.
Because there's always a brighter day.

Eventually.





Life won't allow us to go back.
But it will make sure that it's hard to move on.

And you just keep driving.

missing

the thing about missing is that we have shapes of things and people in our hearts,
and when they leave or we leave them, there's an empty space that's not all the way filled by memory.
even if we have new things, they don't ever fill those holes because they aren't the same shapes. it makes for a cluttered heart sometimes.

but the thing about missing is that it means we've loved.
and we're happier people now because we've had things to fill our hearts in the first place. and even though it hurts to the core to lose some of those things, our heart has expanded and we have more capacity to love.
missing is a sign of a blessed life.
missing means we're loved, too. "i miss you" can sometimes be the sweetest phrase.

i know that i have the ability to expand my heart even more. i don't have to shove new loves into old spaces. i just need to make more room.

i want my heart to be much bigger than my body and i want my heart to reach much farther than my fingers or my words.

College, amongst other things.

 Meet my dorm room.

I like it in there. It's nice.

 Check the beard pillow. It's my sister's beard pillow. I stole it. (Hi Michal.) She's not getting it back.

This is my laptop case and my backpack. Because I'm sure you care and stuff.

And below is my desk.

Anyway. There you have it. It's no big deal. Seriously. That was a completely not-sarcastic "it's no big deal."

It was a very serious one.

Anyway. I like it here.
There is a 65 year old man in my math class. His name is Doug and I might be in love with him.
And my writing teacher is one of the few people who appreciates the fact that I have an opinion about everything.
And my yoga teacher is the best woman ever. She's the type of person who listens to your every word VERY intently and nods her head and widens her eyes when she loves something that you say. She's the most granola human in the world, and probably has never shaved her legs ever and doesn't wear a drop of make up and she is very in touch with the earth and I wish you could all be in my yoga class because I love everything about it.
And all my other professors are neat.
And the people are interesting.
And the parties are fun.
And if you haven't been to college yet....

You should really consider going.

It's a good time.




Especially because my roommate and I end every single day with a few episodes of Friends.

And life is blissful.

Creep #2

So.... I'm a massive creep.



What of it?!

Anyway.

Meet Gary and Jill.


They are SO in love!

 

Once again, I don't know their real names... But... they looked like a Gary and a Jill to me.

Can you see them? Hugging? (Sorry for the terrible picture. It's the best I could do...)

So.... I was picking up my friend from the airport. I waited behind this station wagon for 20 minutes for her to come out. Suddenly, the man in the station wagon (Gary) jumps out and opens the trunk excitedly. A woman (Jill) starts running toward him frantically. She drops her bags and jumps into his arms upon approach.

They kissed a lot and I watched their mouths exchange "I love you" 's. 

I may or may not have teared up.

They were very normal looking people. You know. Very middle aged and middle class looking. But they must have been through a lot. It showed in their greeting.

I had no personal connection to them whatsoever, but I love them both dearly. And I hope they last forever.

They deserve it.

Someday, I'll find my Gary. And I'll be his Jill. And we'll greet one another like this at the airport, even if I was only gone just a few days.

Love,

The Creep.

P.S.
Remember Raymond?! Welllllll. I may or may not have seen him again. Actually. I definitely saw him again.

Outside of my building. Reading a book and drinking a cup of coffee. Looking perfect.

Of course I was way too terrified to go say anything. And, of course, I now hate myself for it.

But, if it makes you feel any better, I'm pretty sure we live in the same building, so....

We may or may not be destined to fall in love.

I will notify you of any further sightings.