Monday, September 29, 2008

like the little spoiled girl on Charlie and The Chocolate Factory with the golden eggs

We all want things to last forever. We all want to be trusted. We all wish things could be how they were when life was simpler, even if it was just a month ago. We all want to believe in love. We all want to give everyone a second chance. We want to be happy and successful and hopeful and smart and talented.

But me?

I want more sugar in my cereal. I want to be able to run, really far and really fast. I want to wear boots and winter coats and drink hot chocolate. I want fall, not the psuedo Texas Fall that is really just a milder version of Summer, but the real Utah Fall where the leaves flee the trees and everything changes into a shade of red or orange and you can't help but love the mountains. I want for my Grandma to remember. I want to wear flats everyday. I want what I deserve. I want to be known by people who matter and to matter to the people who know me. I want to understand everything. I want a really, really big Burberry bag that will not only hold my lip gloss and my cell phone but also my secrets and my successes. In fact let's just throw everything in there so I don't have to hold onto anything.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

My favorite things

Oprah did it, Nordstrom did it, and now I, too, have a Favorite Things Of The Season list.

1. Sonicare. I go through phases of brushing with the Sonicare that my mom bought me like 10 years ago when I was a young, chubby, brace faced girl. I didn't appreciate it back then because I wasn't fanatical about my teeth. But I am fanatical now. I love my Sonicare so much that I only brush with it every other day so I will appreciate it more.
My biggest accomplishment of the Summer was the day that I convinced Rex to buy a Sonicare. I would come to work and talk about how great my teeth felt, and then 5 hours later my teeth would still feel great and I was gush about it and finally during a Target trip Rex said, "Screw it, I'm buying one!" I am just that good of a saleswoman. Maybe they are hiring. I love my Sonicare and i don't care who knows!!

2. Cognac Boots. I couldn't find a picture on and I am too lazy to go upstairs and take a picture of them so I will just write about it. I'm going through a boot phase this week. Grey, Brown, Black and now, my favorite, Cognac. The Cognac pair don't go with much of my wardrobe because they are a pretty brilliant color and I am more of a black girl, but, nonetheless, they are perfect. They have a minor, everyday heel, and they are extremely comfortable. My only beef is that I am not in Utah and it is still 90 degrees here so boots don't really mesh with the weather. Looks like I'm going to have to vacation to colder climate next weekend. I heard New York is supposed to have a storm?

3. Turq Ring. Last week I bought a ring for my middle finger, because my other two were getting lonely. This one is gaudy and huge and absolutely brilliant. I love it. I love the color. I love that it goes with everything. I love that I now pattern my outfits around what matches the ring. I love that I still buy myself jewelry when I feel like I deserve it. I love that I am the best gift buyer for myself cause I know exactly what I want. As far as jewelry is concerned, at least. Life can wait, accessories can't.

4. Swimming. So ever since I saw this and this, I knew I was in the wrong industry. No but really, much to the pleasing of every physical therapists who has ever X-rayed my poor knees I have decided to hang up my running shoes for the time being and work it out in the pool. So far so great. Seriously, imagine a cardio workout where you don't sweat and you also work your abs, triceps, deltoids, biceps, calves, and butt. Then go swim 20 laps. Feel the burn, baby. It seriously is a miracle. Plus, if I can look like that at age 40, there's nothing I can't do.

5. Rudys. Although yesterday I think I got sick from eating a beautiful lunch of Brisket, Turkey and Creamed Corn, it was worth it. I mention the Creamed Corn because until yesterday I didn't like Creamed Corn. Which is peculiar because I was raised on Rudy's and Creamed Corn to Rudy's in like the Kiss to Hershey's , real popular. And now I, because of a total taste bud change, like the Hershey Kiss and the Creamed Corn, am, like, real popular. Oh. My. Gosh.

6. Snow Patrol. I don't know if everyone is as crazy about their music as I am. I believe that we should all be crazy about music. I believe that we should let music change our mood. I believe it because I do. Some days I have this disease where I can't settle on a song and it drives me to the point of insanity. On these days I listen to Snow Patrol. It's so melancholy and lovely and calming. Like, no doubt Snow Patrol will be my future husband's secret weapon for when I am menstrual and bordering anxiety attacks and running around the house looking for chocolate and diet coke and yelling that I need to buy new jeans. Pump the jams, honey.


I don't know where I decided that life was going to make sense. Because it doesn't. Doesn't make sense to be up at 2:30. I should be sleeping because why not? And why can't I work just one more day? And why do little things remind me of big things? None of this makes sense. It doesn't make sense that sad movies, and rearranging my room, and buying new boots can't distract me long enough to look in the other direction and move forward. I just keep thinking about things that don't make sense and really don't persuade me to accomplish anything. I keep thinking and thinking and then I don't sleep. Accomplishment comes from the cleaning and the blogging and the shopping, not from solving anything real. And it's 2:30 and I am not sleeping and that doesn't make sense.

Wednesday, September 24, 2008

Fuh-ng Sh-way

I've been putting off redecorating because I'm sort of in denial about living in Texas, not that I don't love it, I just didn't expect things to be how they are. Everyone left and I wanted to, too. But now I'm here and so I made it homey.
I'm still trying to tie everything in with my bed which is black, and my mirrors which are white. I'm super stoked about the photos. All the pictures are from my favorite catalouges of the season. I must say, having pictures on the wall sure cures my need for many of the clothes, handbags, and jewerly that I find myself wanting. Try it, and watch your bank account flourish!
Note: My first view had a few men in the photos but they set the whole theme off, so I cut them out. Girl Power baby!!!

Tuesday, September 23, 2008

just to make me realize how young I really am

10 years ago...

September of 1998. 6th grade. I had just started middle school. The only things I remember about 6th grade is that EVERYONE wore Doc Martin's, the ones that if you see someone wearing today you run in the other direction. I remember that they gave us 7 minutes to get to class and that was not enough for me. I remember that some very rude girls put a bunch of tampons and pads in a girl who's locker was next to me to make fun of her for starting her period. This was the year my family and my cousins went to Hawaii for our first time. I hung out with Cherie most of the time except for our occasional fights. I got a 'C' in a class and it was the first time (first of many I should say) when I realized I could talk my way out of just about anything, I didn't begin to use these powers of persuasion right then, though.

5 years ago...

September 2003. Junior year. Also know as the GREATEST year of my life. I think in September I had just started dating, and I loved it. I had a car and my own business (what? seems like a different life now). I was talking with Al who was still getting himself into trouble. One time Junior Year I wore overalls to school- not the hideous, embarassing, Walmart overalls, but, like, some, cute, only-Elyse-could-pull-those-off-overalls- I'd like to think that's when I got respect for doing what I want in High School, a trait that many, typical, crowd following teenagers didn't have. It was sometime around this time I met Kelsey and figured we'd be best friends forever, a hope I still actually have. I ran everyday and only ate food with little to no fat, I was blonde and fun-loving and had high-hope for myself.
The thing I remember most about this time was that I was still so innocent that I didn't let anything happen that I didn't have complete control over. I still remember the first time a boy tried to kiss me, and, because I'd been raised by Rod Dial himself, I didn't let him because I didn't think he deserved it. Sometimes I still wish I had that innocence.

5 months ago...

April. The first sign of Spring in Provo is fabulous. I was not so fabulous. I had just gotten out of a too-short fling with someone who did actually deserve me. Cami had just left for Europe and I was lost. I was days away from moving to Texas and was panicking because I didn't know why I was coming here. I kept trying to pack up my room but ended up hanging out with people from my past each night just to try and give me reasons to stay in Utah. I was scared and stressed and uncertain about selling. I gave up dating altogether and made a goal to not kiss, date, or even have a crush on anyone in Texas. You know how they say when you want something it doesn't happen and when you don't want something it happens? Well I got what I didn't want, and realized it's what I want, and five months ago if you would have told me I would have laughed in your face.

5 things on my to do list tomorrow...

1) Watch House, Season Two
2) Meet with Dad about schedule, pay, and time OFF!!! So I can plan trips!! and waste away my self-made inheritance!!
3) Sell? I guess.
4) Take Grandma somewhere special
5) Go to the Office and turn in contracts

p.s. with little variation, these are the 5 things on my to-do list everyday. eek.

5 things I would do if I was suddenly a billionaire...

1) Tithing
2) Create a scholarship foundation for children from South America or Nigeria, and send them all to BYU or Harvard or wherever
3) Set up my IRA, buy investment properties and stock
4) Take the family to Spain and Italy
5) Buy everone in my family and pair of True Religions, buy Rodney an Iphone, get at least 3 different handbags, get the Subaru I want, go to San Francisco with my Grandma, and get lazer hair removal

5 bad habits...

1) Checking my email constantly
2) Biting my nails
3) Picking at split-ends
4) Judging people
5) Being too hard on myself

5 places I've lived

1) Round Rock, TX (Cornerwood House, Pepper Rock House, Martin's Cove)
2) Spokane
3) Mesa, AZ
4) Provo (Deseret Towers, King Henry, Brigham Young's House)
5) Austin

Monday, September 22, 2008

the ice is getting thinner

Back to work today! Watch my optimism as I finish out the last week of my summer strong. I realize my issue with this current employment is that I went into this job thinking that on August 31 I'd be done. It's like if David Blaine was told he was going to be let go from hanging upside down at hour 60, and then at the end they said, "Surprise! three more weeks." And the worse part is HE AGREES and then one week into the torture he realizes he doesn't want to do it. Yeah, I'm just like that. Minus all the scars, magic and, well, there are not records in my name.

I do love selling, I really do. I'm just ready for something new. I'm ready to wake up without anxiety and come home earlier than 9 p.m. I also wish everyone hadn't left because we had so much fun. It was fun to drive out with the boys and take naps in the car or sit at Jack-In-The-Box for two hours (wups). It was fun to sell for 45 minutes and get 3 sales because it was hot and people couldn't help but to say yes to me. I loved coming home and playing Texas Hold 'Em for hours and then falling asleep too late and waking up too late and repeating the same day over, and over again. I loved story time and water breaks and lunches at Martin's Cove and praying for rain with everyone. We all hated what we were doing but we were competitive and we worked hard most of the time and so we enjoyed hating it, together. And now I enjoy hating it, alone.

But, because it's in my nature to do the exact opposite of what I want to do, I continue to work. And I will continue to work. And David Blaine and his record-setting self can tear a page out of my book because I am conquering the impossible, or so it seems.

Sunday, September 21, 2008

Letter to You

We've always had something. You and me, we get each other. I've always been your favorite, and you mine. The first time I ever visited you I wanted to be just like you. I wanted to be friendly and respected and optimistic like you. I wanted to work hard and love my family like you. I know you made mistakes and you wish you would have spent more time with your kids. I also know you did the best you can. You make up for what you lack. You expect greatness from yourself.

You love everyone you come in contact with. You have learned not to judge or hurt or offend. Because of this you have friends everywhere you go. You have many people that don't understand you but this doesn't change your zeal towards them. It doesn't change your love for them. You genuinely care about everyone you come in contact with. You sometimes act strange, but you still care.

I forgive you. I forgive you when we're in a public place and you hit on people half your age. I forgive you when you say things you shouldn't to my parents. I forgive you when you change your mind. I forgive you when you bring up the sexual preferences of my Aunts and Uncle at dinner with strangers. I forgive you when you make a fool of us. I do. Because I love you. And because I respect that you are trying.

You are leaving today and I am sad because our time together this time has really been special. You've seen me through a rough patch, and really taught me so much about life and love and the ability to be happy no matter what I'm going through. You made allowances for me and let me slack off a little because you know I needed it. I hope you remember to come back. I hope you remember that this is your home. I hope you need me the way I need you.

Thursday, September 18, 2008

chicks dig scars

Back in my young and impressionable days, my dad would come home from work, basketball, or his church calling, he'd take off his shoes and neurotically put them in his closet and then sit down and ask us about our days. I remember thinking how tired and happy he looked everyday, which to me seemed like strange, incompatible emotions. I didn't get it. One day I was making fun of the callouses on his hands and feet. He said, "When I get home, I know I've worked hard because of my callouses, my reminder of a successful day." I used to go to work and wonder when I would get my permanent reminder of a hard day's work. I don't know what I was expecting considering I was just a nanny for all those years.

Yesterday, I was painting my chipping toenails and I looked at the callouses on my feet and had never been so proud of such an imperfection on my body. "I WORK HARD!" I exclaimed to an empty bed room. It was relief to have a visual reminder of a job well done. I realized that I might have a lot missing but one thing I've never struggled with was a lack of hard work. Even in my worst times I find a way to work hard at something. The days I'm hardest on myself, I remember my redeeming quality. The days when I feel unneeded or unhappy or when my blogs are especially depressing I remind myself of my ability to work hard and am able to pep myself right back up. I always knew this, but hadn't realized until just yesterday that I was to that lucky age when proof of my hard work shows up on my precisely manicured feet.


I have spent the last four months developing relationships with people. They are strange relationships,though. They last between 10 and 30 minutes. I talk to a stranger, gain their trust, make them laugh, make them love me, and then have them sign over their life to me. I thought it was going to be difficult, but turns out I'm pretty good at faking this exchange. The key to this relationship for me is to get them to ask as few questions as possible. We focus mainly on them; their house, their family, their bug problem. The minute they start asking questions about where I'm from or what I do, I want to run in the opposite direction. Truth is, if I divulged my whole story they would have the same fleeing reaction.

This trend extends far beyond my door-to-door exchanges. I have found that, in general, I am an impossible person to get to know. I push people away to their utter exhaustion, and once they've given up I am finally ready. I ask plenty of personal questions, to keep conversation heavy and focused solely on the other person. I don't answer questions. Answering questions make you responsible for your actions. I prefer to relinquish responsibility, keep the relationship primarily their responsibility, with me just weighing in when I need to. If they are invested, they are responsible when it ends. Because, just like my 30 minute daily relationships with eager pest control purchasers, the relationship will come to an end. Unlike my 30 minute daily relationships with eager pest control purchasers, I will not come out with anything but a new coping strategy.

Monday, September 15, 2008

raised by a pack of well dressed wolves, perhaps?

While in Utah this weekend Kyria and I were at a friend's house and he inquired about our plans for the next day. Before I could respond with my usual evasive remark, Kyria said, "Retail therapy." Being the smart guy that he is, he didn't ask for an explanation.

Due to seemingly significant, short term painfully experiences, the kind her and I will look back on in 6 months and say "what the heck was our problem?" we deemed it necessary to take five, that's right, five, trips to the mall this weekend. A horrible endeavour for my bank account, but a fabulous undertaking for my pest-control-tshirt-filled wardrobe.

I don't understand retail therapy. I don't understand how spending my hard earned money makes me feel so good. It used to be that a deposit to the bank gave me this kind of high. Now, it is walking out of a store with a huge bag and an embarrassing charge on my credit card.

Regrettably, my necessity for retail therapy can be pin pointed down to one moment in time in the past month. It's like, in the matter of a half hour conversation I went from a thrifty, savings account, future thinking adult, to a spendy, fashioned, DON'T CARE! twenty-one year old. This moment keeps replaying in my head, and each time I forsake my rational thinking and curb the anxiety with more STUFF. I thought I rid my shopping habit when I left Provo. Turns out, I was just whole for a summer, but, void is back- therefore so is the STUFF. Unfortunately, this time I don't have my handy dandy shopping buddy to make me feel better about what I buy. Somehow when he is spending hundreds of dollars of jeans I feel better about doing so. Funny the effect siblings have on your rational thinking. Which is curious because we were both raised in the same family. We both ate Cream Of Wheat for breakfast every morning for 12 years. We both remember sneaking to our neighbors to watch television or, for him, to play video games. We remember the homemade gifts and made-up games. And yet, with all our humble beginnings, we somehow feel more at home in Nordstrom then in Martin's Cove.

Don't blame us though, because if you've ever been in Nordstrom you know those couches and soft, subtle piano music are very enticing...

Thursday, September 11, 2008

hold onto your words. talk is cheap

losing too much sleep and having unexplainable anxiety and i have a whole lot to write about but i'm having writer's block and more anxiety and i owe it to myself to do something that isn't sell, and yet now i'm going to sell.

Sunday, September 7, 2008

How Grey's Anatomy Ruined My Perception Of Love

I believe that things happen for a reason. I believe in perfection and happiness and growing old together. I believe that people make mistakes. I believe that they change their mind and come back and that if you stand in the rain long enough they will come out and rescue you. I believe in making out in elevators. I believe in working hard. I believe that time heals most wounds, but that some wounds shouldn't heal. I have flaws and scars and silly little quirks, and I believe that is okay. In fact, I believe that some people appreciate imperfection. I believe that shopping makes things 2% better (okay didn't learn that from TV, did learn that from recent experience. 2% momentary joy followed by intense pain again. And might I say, well worth the $700). I believe in seeing past regret and sorrow and the mound of used tissues by your bed and waking up in the morning. I believe in chocolate and treadmills and trips to Seattle and The Way We Were and spandex and tomorrow being a new day.

Friday, September 5, 2008

why I love her most of all

I recently purchased Flavors of Entaglement by Alanis Morissette. I have a tendency to buy CDs when things go wrong. If things are terribly wrong, i buy an Alanis album. A good CD is like a therapy session you can repeat day after day until you realize a) your problems could be worse or, b) someone knows how you feel. I'm all about the validation. I own each of Alanis's albums thanks to many CD Saturdays with Rachel. This two disk set is sure to be added to my favorite albums of all time, right up there with Snow Patrol's Final Straw and Deja Entendu by Brand New. What I love about Alanis is her ability to be completely sad and masochistic with upbeat songs. This is perfect because I have many MANY people who like to make fun of my music choice which is usually hood rap straight outa da ATL or somber slit my wrist music. To the naked music eye, Flavors of Entanglement is just your average jolly, teenie bopper album, belonging on the shelf next to Spice World and Blink 182.
But REALLY she is still the angry Alanis Morissette our parents prayed we wouldn't listen to. The one outside of Joey Gladstone's window peeking on him after he broke up with her. The Alanis with one hand in her pocket, and the other one flicking a cigarette.

Is it bad to have a hero with a nicotene habit? I hope not cause she changed my life.

Wednesday, September 3, 2008

one day at a time

Because I am suffocating. Because things end, and other things begin. Because pest control doesn't sell itself. Because tomorrow is too far away. Because sometimes, waking up is enough. Because I live out of a suitcase. Because all I can do is keep breathing. Because if you don't want me, you had better TELL me. Because everyone is gone. Because my usual coping methods aren't working. Because I need to be two places and they are 1544.33 miles apart.

one day at a time

How to annoy me

Be everything I want. For some reason it is infuriating.

Monday, September 1, 2008

I don't believe in shooting stars. I believe in Shoes and Cars.

I knew it was a problem when I went into Burberry with my mother this weekend to look at a handbag I want. I knew how much it cost but, to make the saleswoman feel less stupid for lurking, and because of that look on her face that they all have that is just begging for someone to test them on their useless knowledge they spent six months of training acquiring, I asked price.

Over Zealous Saleswoman gave me the look of a proud third grader reciting her multiplication tables, as if she were saying, "Easy, now give me a hard one next time." I averted eye contact and smiled politely so she would know I only wanted my answer and after that her turn to speak was over.


I half-intentionally averted eye contact with Mom as well. She didn't need to say anything for me to know she was in shock that her thrifty daughter would hold such a purchase in her hand. What she didn't realize was that not only was I coveting this beige and red piece of heaven, I was recalculating my budget for next month's grocery list, once again, so I don't have to dip into savings. I take the phrase "starving student" to a whole new level.

I rationalize it like this. Why spend twenty bucks on a purse you will have to replace once a month when you can buy one that will last forever and you won't get sick of for at least 3 months? Plus it's FABULOUS. And CLASSY.

Many people have told me that when I get married I'm going to have to face a harsh reality when I have to share my bank account and run all purchases by the other half. Even more reason to never wed.

Just kidding.

Even more reason to stock up now. Plus, how grateful will a husband be when he finds out that his wife has an amazing ability to set aside a couple extra hundred dollars each month and purchase things with NO Buyers Remorse. That, my friends, is a trait worthy of my domestic housewife resume. I'm always looking for bullet points to add to that short list. So far I have two and both involve doing household chores in my underwear.