I Cut My Bangs With Some Rusty Kitchen Scissors

Just kidding, that's a Miranda Lambert song.

I did get my bangs cut though, only I went to a salon.

Here's a pic. This is my "this is super awkward taking a picture of myself" face

Oh, the best part? I DIDN'T EVEN CRY! For those of you who don't know, I have major anxiety about changing my hair. Usually after any type of change to my hair (or my life, really) I cry and wear it in a ponytail for a week. But I actually really like my hair thus far.

My Eyes Hurt

So I had a bit of a breakdown today. I called my mom and we talked for some time about the hardships I'm going through right now and I just bawled and bawled. This is how my life goes: I bottle things up, hold them in, ignore as much as I can...then I call my mom and everything gets undone and I just cry. Then (usually, hopefully) the next day I feel better and I breathe easier.
So my mom and I chatted, well mostly she told me about an experience she had a couple weeks ago, and I just cried.
It's amazing to me how my mom can make me feel better about myself, and about my whole life. She tells me how strong I am, how much she admires my life. Today I told her that I can't stop thinking "What am I doing wrong?" She told me that's the worst thing to think. She told me this pain and heartache I'm going through right now is all for a reason. She says she doesn't know what the reason is, but she assured me that I would come out better and that it's not a result of me making a mistake; it's just part of the plan. She promises me that great things are in store for me and I just need to hang on, and keep going.
Now, I have to admit that it's VERY very hard for me to believe these things. It's so hard for me to think this is how things are supposed to be. It's near impossible to believe that something great will happen, because right now all I can think is that I'm afraid this feeling will never go away. But the great thing is that my mom is always right. (Don't tell her I said this) If I've learned anything in the past 22 years it's that I can always trust my mom. She is there for me every single time I have a meltdown, every single time I need to cry, and it's her words that give me strength.
It's interesting how you don't realize how big a part of you someone is until they are gone. You don't realize until all of your stories and memories consist of them. Until whenever they cross your mind you feel sick, and like you got punched in the stomach. Until you have to replace your feelings of love with feelings of bitterness and anger because it's too hard to forgive. Until you have to FILL your days completely because any free time is just so detrimental to the progress you've made. Until literally every song feels like it was written about you (So cliche, I know)
My mom reminded me today that I am a very proud person. It's hard for me to admit weakness. So I especially don't realize these types of things until they happen, and I'm hit with the reality of how I really felt. And that reality hits like a train going full speed.
But every cloud has a silver lining, right? Here's the lining: after the talk with my mom I went and ran 6 miles. Stress run. Now it didn't actually make me feel better, which is weird because usually it does. I kept tearing up during the run. I teared up during The Bachelor (no, not because of how awful it is) and I've been crying while writing this whole damn post. BUT the run itself was great and the exercise felt good.
Oh, and another good thing to lighten the mood of this super depressing post is that I have 3 packages coming my way in the mail! Oh yeah, my shopping post? Didn't stop there. Whoops. My Urban Outfitters purchase is still on it's way, I just bought a new case for my phone, and last night I ordered a pair of jeans from Gap. But I know that nobody's going to judge me for my shopping issues after reading this post. Suckers, that's why I led with the sad stuff.
Now if anyone feels so inclined to send me presents to cheer me up, I'll be happy to send you my address.

Uh-Oh

I shopped.

And if you remember from this post (I wish I knew how to make "this" connect to that certain post, but I don't) called "Shopaholic", I have a problem. Basically once I start, I can't stop. It just snowballs and I get a little bit out of control.
This relapse started yesterday. Let me preface by saying that I have been working like a mad woman lately. Seriously going straight from one job to the next, Monday-Saturday, sometimes Sunday. So even though I relapsed, it's kind of okay because I deserve it-right? And because I'm single and have no one to support-right? And because I'm a sad depressed soul and shopping makes me happy. Hehe, okay that's an exaggeration, but still.
Anyways, it all started because I let my guard down. I took the evening off work yesterday. Bad news. I should know by now that when I have free time, I get into trouble. I think "hmm, I've been busy and I finally have a spare second so I'm just gonna go to the mall real quick and buy something". So I went to the bar. Aka went to the mall.
Started at H&M. In my defense, the cardigan I bought is one I've been looking for.
Next stop, Forever 21. Always bad news. Just bought, and bought, and bought. A sweater, a tank, a pair of socks? random, a skirt (for church, so it's forgiven).
Final stop, Urban Outfitters. Ughhh it was just online and so convenient! And the pants I bought have been in my shopping bag for so long so I just NEEDED to get them. And I was $1.00 short of free shipping so of course I had to add a tank top.
Anyways, judge away. I get it, I have a problem! I just looooove shopping, I love it. And whatever-so my bank account took a hit, my closet got some major revamping.

Valentine's Day

It's the end of Valentine's Day, and I'm feeling very full, for one, but also very satisfied. I was worried that today would be awful and that I'd be miserable the whole day. But on the contrary, I actually had a good day filled with pleasant, sweet surprises from great family and friends.
I woke up and was able to open the present from my dad first thing, like I always did at home. He gave me some great chocolates, licorice, and a beautiful turquoise ring. Now, my mom always says that my dad spoils my sisters and I so much that we'll never be satisfied with a husband (which is sad because 3 of them are married, 1 engaged. Haha) Maybe that's the truth. I have mentioned before that I really want a turquoise ring-before as in years ago. My thoughtful dad remembered that, and found me a ring that I LOVE. He's seriously the best.
I walked outside to my car and on it Anders (Courtney's fiance) had left me a rose with a card he made, wishing me a happy valentine's day. So thoughtful and sweet of him. You know you're best friends with someone when you can share their fiance. Hehe.
I went and picked up the kids I nanny and the mom had left me a Valentine's Day cupcake. Delicious.
I was at my sisters' house when Mike shows up with a box of 3 cupcake for each of us.
I come home and Court and I open our Valentine from her mom and dad, aka my second parents.
I go to babysit for another family and they give me a box of chocolates and a cute Valentine from each of the kids.
I come home to a chocolate covered strawberry edible arrangement from Whitney.
I go downstairs and my roommate Lucy had put together a sort of maze-type thing, where I follow a piece of string with reasons why she loves me attached to it, all the way to the freezer where there's a tub of double fudge brownie ice cream awaiting me. (this girl knows the way to my heart)
And last but not least, Cassie is sending a belated Valentine's gift that I'm sure is going to be delicious..or stale..but either way.

So this holiday is one that we don't have to remember the "true meaning" of. Because the true meaning is to show love to those around you. Throughout the day, whenever I would start to get a little bit down, I swear the next person would shower me with a thoughtful gift, and it just lifted my spirits straight up. I'm so grateful for the family and friends that I have. It's good for me to recognize all the great people I have in my life who love me instead of focusing on the people (or person) who aren't around anymore.

Anyways, it's 2 in the morning and I seriously need to go to bed. Thanks to all the sugar I've eaten today it might take me a while, but I'm going to try.

"Take away love, and our earth is a tomb"

-Robert Browning

iPhone

Well, just call me Hipster.

I jumped on the band wagon and bought myself a good ole iPhone.

I love it for so many reasons: -twitter

-pinterest

-imessage

-instagram

-shazam

-i look so cool

Now let me talk about myself for a little bit.

After almost a year, I am happy to say I QUIT THE GYM! (not working out, just working) I'm so damn excited to not work there anymore. To not see the same old people eeeeeveryday. To not answer the same stupid questions everyday. To not have to stand for hours on end with NOTHING to do. To not have to say I work at a gym. To not get paid minimum wage. And most importantly, to not have to wear that ugly ass red polo shirt ever again.

So I got a new job at a residential treatment center for teenage girls. It's a tough job, especially for a perfectionist like me. I like to always feel confident in everything I do. The learning process is not one I am patient enough to go through gracefully. I hate not knowing what I'm doing. I hate feeling confused or nervous or anxious because I'm unsure of myself. I keep telling myself I need to give it at least 3 months before I can start feeling comfortable at this new job. It's just a lot of pressure, and feeling inadequate does not help my nerves.

I want the girls to like me; to look up to me and respect me and have me as a role model. I want to be able to make a difference and help in their treatment. I want the staff to like me and consider me a good co-worker. I like being the best at things. I like people being able to depend on me and know I can pull my own weight, plus some.

So, needless to say I'm a bag of nerves-but I have high hopes for this job.

I definitely need some change in my life right now. I need distractions. I need to constantly be busy or else I feel myself start to unravel, and this job is surely doing the trick. It keeps me busy and my mind occupied so I don't have room to think about much else.

That's all folks. If you need me, just go ahead and tweet, email, instagram, message, call, facetime, or blog me...and I'll get it instantly to my phone. Hollllllla!

Panic

Tonight I had a full fledged panic attack.
Like mid-conversation. I had just read a text from a friend with some unfortunate information in it, and Courtney calls me. I accidentally answer as I'm trying to text, and she immediately starts babbling about something or other. I'm trying to pay attention but slowly I feel myself losing it to the anxiety. Finally I interrupt her and all hell breaks loose.
I start hyperventilating really badly and can't catch my breath for a good 2 minutes. Meanwhile the waterworks are happening and poor Court is just there, on the other line.
Embarrassing? Yes. But she's seen much worse so it's okay.

One day this story will be funny, right now I'm still embarrassed as I'm about to post it to the worldwide web.
Oh and my nails I just painted just got messed up.
Seriously, Xanex.

Over

January is over?

Say WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAT???

Here's my current problem: I think I'm obsessed.

1. I'm obsessed with money. It takes a lot for me to turn down an opportunity to make money, and it literally pains me to do so. Some might say that just means I'm SUPER hard-working, independent, mature, etc., but that's not really how I see it. Because yes, I work a lot and no, I don't have many bills to pay. My mom taught me that money comes and goes, and I shouldn't stress about it. But I can't help it- I stress. Everything I buy I think of in terms of "this is 2,3,4 hours of work..is it worth it?" So even when I do buy something I can't fully enjoy it because I'm thinking of the amount of work I have to do to pay it off. Seriously annoying. I just want to RELAX about it. On top of that, I'm a serious shopaholic, so I basically spend my life wanting, wanting, needing, getting..and then stressing endlessly. Someone give me a Xanex.

2. I'm obsessed with my body...and not in a "oh I'm so hot and ripped I need to stare at myself" kind of way.
Disclaimer: I don't think I'm fat. I don't have an eating disorder. I'm definitely not searching for (or wanting) compliments or assurances.
Let me explain. Kind of in the way I think of my purchases in terms of working hours, I think of things I eat in terms of the time I exercise. Every m&m I eat I think "Ugh this is like 7 football fields' worth of running". Whenever I eat something I usually end up feeling guilty about it, which makes it not worth it x2. (1-the calories, 2-I didn't enjoy it) Also I have a problem comparing myself with other girls. I know this is a huuuuuuuge no-no, but I can't help it! I think "I wonder how often she works out", or "I wonder if she just never eats". Or I'll become resentful and think "Okay I work out WAY more than she does, and yet her body is way nicer than mine". Ya, I know I know. I've heard all the "your body is beautiful, everyone is different, love yourself" blah blah. But that's not easy. I know we (especially women) are more critical of ourselves, and my self-criticism comes in the form of body image. I work at a gym, which definitely doesn't help. Especially in Provo where it seems every girl is in some sort of competition to be the hottest/skinniest girl around. I just see these fit, tiny women coming in all day and I think-what the H are they doing up there?! I work out. I go to the gym and work out and get sore and all that, and yet the results are not the same. It's a struggle for me. And no I'm not about to go throw up my dinner, or turn down frozen yogurt the next time it's offered. I'm just saying, we all have issues.

On a lighter note-I bought a shirt from Urban Outfitters today.

It only cost me $10.

1 hour of babysitting.

Totally worth it.

Tires

Let me tell you a little story about my past few days:
Wednesday night I'm driving back from Park City with Courtney and Anders. We're coming down the canyon at about 11PM and I hear a weird sound coming from my tire. I pull over to inspect. We (and by "we" of course I mean Anders) soon figure out that my tire is so bald that it's now shredding apart and the metal underneath is coming through. What, who knows what bald tires are? So we (again, by "we" I don't mean myself) quickly put on the spare and drive carefully home.

-Sidenote: Wednesday was a random day in which it wasn't snowing or raining on the canyon drive. Lucky for me, or my car would most likely be down in some ditch having spun off the road due to zero, or negative, grip capability.

So I wake up Thursday morning to go pick up my kids (not really mine) from preschool. Aaaaaand enter flat spare tire. Seriously? I frantically call my sister and she shows up 30 seconds later to pick me up (by some "coincidence" she lives around the corner from me). So I (and by "I" I don't mean myself-except the money part unfortunately) spend the day pumping up my spare tire, researching the cheapest tires around, and finally spending $512.13 on 4 brand spankin' new tires. What the hell. Apparently my back tires weren't lookin' so hot either. Seriously, who knows what bald tires look like? But fine, tires are an investment and I needed them so I bit the bullet.

Friday comes and goes with no real incidents, thank goodness. (Actually it is worth mentioning that on Friday I went to Victoria's Secret and it was revealed to me that I measure at a 32B. Say WHAAAAAT? The itty-bitty-titty-committe has one less member)

Saturday I wake up and drive to my sister's house. On the way there some boy stops me and tells me that my back tire is flat. Excuse me? The tire I just spend $500 is flat? Yes, that's the one. So I get to Laura's house and sure enough, flat. I decide that I'm a grown adult and can figure out how to use the air compressor without help. (Also because Mike is at work so I had no choice) So I figure out how to use it, figure out how much air to put in the tire, and complete my task feeling very proud of myself. As I'm going to take the compressor off my tire, all hell breaks loose. I somehow manage to break the valve off my tire and all the air quickly escapes and leaves my tire (and myself) completely deflated. So I do what any grown adult would do...
I start crying and call my dad.
In the end all is well. I was able to get a friend to come put my (semi) flat spare BACK on and I drove back to Discount Tires and they fixed me up nice and new fo' FREE.

The moral of this story is that things are easier when you live at home where your dad can do things for you.

sidenote-just sent my dad a birthday card that goes like this:
"Dad, I may not know how to plunge a toilet or tinker under the hood of my car. But there is one thing you taught me that I'll never forget..(open card)
To ask you to do it for me."

Ain't that the truth.

Zac-Attack

Baking with Zac goes a little like this:
"Zac do you want a taste?"
*hand him the lid of the cool whip container*

Merry Christmas.

Concrete Jungle

Took a weekend trip to NYC. It was seriously amazing.
The last time I went to New York was my senior year of high school, 2007. I went with a few friends: Alex, Derrick, and Courtney. That trip was awful. Looking back now I can laugh and appreciate how awful it was and remember the funny parts of the trip, but in the moment I wanted to die.
Let me re-cap for you: we took a red eye so we got in at 6 am. I felt really sick and ended up with the flu the first day. We were staying with Alex's brother in the BRONX, scary, in a teeny tiny room with a teeny tiny bed. Court and I shared while the boys were on the floor. The water heater broke the first day we arrived, which meant no showers for 4 whole days. One day I was walking throught the subway turnstile (we each bought a week-pass for the subway) and somehow I slid the card in the wrong slot, so Derrick and I ended up having to go through the same turnstile. Enter undercover cop-writes Derrick and I each a ticket, even after we showed we each have a subway pass. One day I thought it would rain, so I wore rain boots. It did not rain, but the boots were too small and I literally was limping by the end of the day because my feet were hurting SO bad. The next day, thinking the weather would hold up and not being able to wear my rain boots again, I wore Ugs. Well, it not only rained-it POURED. Ugs-soaked through completely. Freezing cold feet. Also on this day, being our last day in the city, we got majorly lost in Central Park-in the pouring rain, in the sponges on my feet. We finally make it out and back to our house, quickly grab a taxi and race to the airport, just in time to MISS OUR FLIGHT. The lady at the counter told us the next flight wasn't until tomorrow morning (um, we are not about to sleep in the airport) or we could pay $800 and buy a new ticket. What the HAIL. Long story short we somehow (still not sure how this worked) got another airline to accept our tickets and we were able to get on a flight that night. But not before we were "randomly selected" at security. Sure, let me take off my jacket and raise my arms after not showering OR shaving for 4 days.
So, when I got offered the opportunity to re-do a New York trip, I eagerly jumped at the chance. This time, things went much, much differently:
A family that Court and I babysit for took us to New York to help keep track of the little ones. We stayed in a posh hotel a few blocks from Times Square (bye bye Bronx), we went out to the Statue of Liberty (in trip #1 we were all broke high schoolers, so we couldn't do anything touristy), we went to the top of the Empire State Building, ate at Justin Timberlake's restaurant-Southern Hospitality, waited outside NBC studios and met the cast of SNL, showered EVERY day, didn't get lost at all, no tickets, appropriate shoes for every occasion. Needless to say, this trip completely restored my image of New York City. I loved every second of it.

(the little girls we hung out with- Amelia and Savvy)

Out of all the amazing things I did this weekend, what, you might ask, was my favorite?

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From the Tree

I had this conversation via text with Cassie today:

Cassie: So, I think I might have finally broken Violet of her pacifier. Can you guess what I used to bribe her?
Me: She's your daughter, so probably food.
Cassie: Precisely. Donuts.

Parenting 101.

Ima Luigi, Numba One

Happy Halloween.

-Mario Brothers