if i proofread this i will delete everything

Today would have been my parents 27th wedding anniversary. I say would have been because I don't know exactly how to describe the relationship because my very alive mother and my father who has passed on. Describe? Is that what I need to do? Believe. That's it. I believe they are still married I believe they still exist as a couple as well as individuals. I believe that celebrating their anniversary is still something we should all do. I also believe that when my mother remarries the man who now exists in our lives in the flesh just like the other one did that she will also be married to my Dad. My dad exists for eternity and her friend exists in our immediate present. We can all take a deep breath knowing she is happy and that life goes on after tragedy.

When I was 18 my dad wrote a song for me called "Be You." The message of the song, which I haven't listened to in 3 years, is to find out who you are and love that person, find out who God is and love Him, and to develop traits you would like to have. Lately, the answer to every question I ask myself is, "Be You."

When I was 21 I worked for my dad. He was my favorite boss because of his transparency, hard work, and integrity. He was so strong and respected but it wasn't because he was a strong armer. It was because he was smart and right. I love that. That is the kind of business woman I want to be. Smart and right. And when I'm wrong, I want to embrace the ideas of those around me to find the best solution.

All of my questions are answered by what he taught me. Sometimes I forget what he would say so I do the wrong thing. But today, I remember.

Maybe then we will remember to slow down at all our favorite parts...

My life is not hard. In fact, it is great compared to so others. I know that people think this about me and I'm here to say I agree.

Sometimes, however, life hurts. Today, my heart hurts because I feel physical pain as a result of emotional pain. Perhaps this is because I enjoy my life so much and so often that any deviation from my normal serendipity and joy abrupts in such a way that emotional pain does not suffice..

A rainy day in San Diego hurts worse than a rainy day in Portland.

Welcome To The Bread Business

At what age do adults stop asking, "What time do you get off?"...

Like a job is just something that begins and ends. This ain't Jamba Juice, this is my life.

Today I Want To Wear A Sign That Says

"Because I'm ELYSE MIKEL DIAL, that's why!!"

Sitting in a meeting today with more women than I've interacted with my entire time in my career; 5. 20 men. Pardon as I generalize.

Men like to be right. Women like to be heard. Men say it once and assume that will suffice. Women beat the horse dead and then bring it up twice more. Men are right- Women are emotionally driven. Women are right- Men are simple minded. Is one better? No. Do Women complicate everything? Yes.

Don't badger the generalization. Embrace the candor.

Me me me memememeMeeeme

Being young and single and having sole access to a bank account and cooking (reheating) for one is a strange thing. So is sleeping alone in a bed built for two and planning weekends in Houston by myself and entertaining myself in the middle of the night. It's abnormal actually. Narcissistic.

This thought derived from the most self absorbed thought I think I've ever had. While looking at my blog stats I thought, "wow, that's how many people did something good today by reading what I have to say." Dear Me, REALLY?!? You equate people reading this website to doing something good for the humanity? Maybe if it was full of quotes from Martin Luther King and President Monson... Yeah. But Drake and Taylor Swift? No.

I have an outlet and a sharp mind and I choose to talk about yoga and bread and my hair and my dad and my relationships. I need a reality check and a slap in the face.

Real Talk

Because deep down we really just want someone to tell our secrets to and listen and laugh at the same things and have the same sleep schedule, but we don't want to feel that pain in your gut when you're not sure.

We want to be humble and happy but we don't want to have to change or sacrifice.

We don't want to be the only one left alone but we don't want to be the one to stand up, give up our habits, cook dinner, share the remote and forgive repeatedly.

I WANT SOMEONE TO READ THIS SO EVERYONE WILL STOP THINKING I AM SO OKAY

Can't stop thinking about that day. So normal. Chipotle for lunch. Wore black and brown to be defiant. The look on my moms face. The tears in my brothers eyes. The way the room spins. It was the closest I've ever been to Hollywood. So dramatic. So awkward. There were dirges playing in my mind. There have been dirges Playing since then

A Four Pill Day

All day I was serious, interested, sharp, poignant, strong, having tough conversations with ease, laughing at the right time, selling my ideas, finding new ways to accomplish tasks. I suppose you could say I was on my grind.

And then 6 oclock happened. I changed from my Oxford shirt and 3 inch heels, put on skinny jeans and stilettos, and hit the mall like a careless teen. Bought a ring because it was shiny and laughed and talked about things that probably won't have any eternal significance. Laughed-- no, giggled. Spoke my mind for 2 straight hours. Whatever I thought is what came out.

The two me's are so opposite. They are both relentless in staying away from eachother. They won't share a warddrobe. They use different phones. One rests and feels and the other one sees that as a weakness. One seeks understanding, accomplishment, and laud, the other wants handbags. One listens to MGMT and the other to Manchester Orchestra. They balance eachother in an odd, deeply functional way. They are both likable and charming and, like any good pair, they are only complete together.

It's exhausting being me.

Don't need your feedback

I have been reminiscing about funny dating stories and thinking how they would be fun to document on this page but then I realized that 65% of the people in my past are still tied to my present. In fact, are you reading this? Creepy. I suppose those inflated readership stats from Blogger.com have to come from somewhere. I'll have to reserve story time for girlfriends and little brothers.

Still, there is a problem with that. So much for clean breaks.