why dating is hard.

The other week, when I went berry picking, I spent the evening bonding with a boy - T, for confidentiality's sake - and the evening ended with him getting my number. RIGHT I'm back in the game.  Or so I thought. I reveled in the fact that a boy had my number and was potentially going to use that number and take me out on dates and DATES ARE FUN.  And boy did T use that number.  

First he asked me to come over and "watch a movie or something" the night after said number-exchange.  I hate that. We literally do not know each other, and you expect me to sit on a couch right next to you and pretend like I'm enjoying it? I don't even know if I like you or not yet, and this situation is putting you dangerously close to cuddling. But even more awkward than cuddling is sitting the designated 6 inches that I put between us. 

Then he asked me on a real date. At which point I knew I didn't like him because of awkward hand caressing during our movie and kinda severe halitosis and talking way too long about hoping to get married but I owed him one night, right? And let me tell you.  I'm actually certain he read "How Not To Impress a Girl On A First Date."  Let me take you step by step.

::when he picked me up, he looked bored/tired/so uninterested in taking me out. like, what's the deal? should we both just admit we don't want to be on this date and call it a night? 

::he asked me where i wanted to eat.  that's just so wrong. 

::as i looked around the cafe rio vicinity as we stood in line, this was our conversation:

"oh just looking for hot guys?"

"HAHA no, just looking around."

"i bet you've dated a lot of boys, huh?"

"no,  i'd say a normal amount." (how do you even answer that questions??)

"well if you see anyone in here you want, let me know, k? i'll help you out."

help me what? kill myself? 

::his impressively long reasoning behind why pacific rim was a horrible movie because it led the general public to believe that nuclear bombs were the same thing as nuclear reactors and they absolutely  ARE NOT the same thing. ok? with lack of anything else to say after his detailed explanation, i said, "wow yeah i had no idea! obviously the directors didn't know either." his response? "well it would have been the writers that made that mistake, so." ah right. check please?

::he made fun of me for being homeschooled.  something about it "not being a proper education" and it leads to immature/socially unaware adults.

::hoping and praying for some semblance of normalcy would have been in vain at this point. it only went downhill. we drove back to our apartment complex and walked up to the back deck by his apartment to lean against the railing and...look at the mountains? the kids playing soccer? my hopes and dreams of finding someone fading away? regardless, as we were standing there, he farts. i mean it, he actually farts. yes, that happened , and i actually lived to tell.  i'm still trying to figure out what kind of award i deserve for going through such a traumatic experience - i'm thinking it should have the words "hero" and/or "survivor" in its title. 

So there's that. Alternate titles for this post: "This Is Why I'm Single", "Why Boys Hate Homeschooled Girls Almost As Much As Pacific Rim",  or "Don't Ever Give Out Your Number."  I'm open to suggestions.  

However, the week wasn't all bad.  That weekend, I went out with a really great guy that I got set up with and I had a blast!  After pizza and a driving lesson (I am determined to drive stick shift!), we watched a movie at my apartment and he kissed me!! Which I am normally opposed to, but you know, it happened and I lived to tell.  So we'll see what happens there. 

In other news (I know I know, this is turning into a short novel), Jennae and I went to California!  So get ready for a large photo-dump of pictures that are not put in any cute borders or collages. Just deal. 

stopped by for the original dirty dr. pepper's at swig in st. george - suggest! suggest!

jennae and my gramps becoming fast friends!  even though he couldn't remember her name...sorry j!
and despite popular belief...jennae IS wearing pants in this pic. 

we needed a big drink after beachin' it up. like, we needed BIG drinks. 

the only picture i took downtown at the gaslamp.  not pictured: the fun crazy drunk crowd, the hopping bars, and the men (perry and nathan) than approached j and me. jennae got a phone number, i got an ear-kiss. so there's that. 

our fight with public transportation started before we even purchased our tickets. 

anxiously awaiting our train to take us to the padre's game!

have i mentioned i love san diego?

whenever the padre's get a home run, they shoot flames and fireworks (i didn't get a good pic!). so this happened...once. 

just chillin in the ghetto for half an hour, waiting for our train. 

our day trip to laguna!! 

we could not leave without going to ruby's on oceanside pier!

surprise! j's dad was a saint and took us to disneyland!  i cried a little knowing mimi and jo weren't with us, so we'll just have to go again in october, am i right ladies??

#selfies

                 

i decided to play hero and take the front seat on splash mountain.  

so then i was just drenched the rest of the night, complete with chaffing (is that how you spell it?) between my legs (tmi). was it worth it? 

ABSOLUTELY.

the bolts played at disney! (i've actually never heard of them but they were a good time)

and we finished off the night with space mountain,  it was actually the funnest thing ever. 

goodnight, disney.

when we got back in to provo, we stopped by sammy's for a birthday party and i quickly became b-money's newest (and favorite? hopefully?) groupie along with this gal.  thanks to sweet friends that didn't leave my side during the entire exchange between me and b-money, i am ready to advertise for him! or, at least, wear the shirt to bed. 

free cd holla!!

bonding at sammy's :) 

ox/C

lima beans and berries

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Last night, I went to the grocery store to pick up a few staple items.  After chatting with a few fellow shoppers I had run into I made my way to the produce aisle.  Where I saw - no joke - the most beautiful, put together woman ever. Like, what is she doing in Provo, gracing us all with her angel presence? And, being female, I was instantly mad at myself for even trying to be in the same room as her. Who did I think I was?? Her perfect lima bean colored dress (lima beans are green, aren't they?) was making me sick with its perfection.  

Like. 

Does perfection bore you, Lima Bean? Do you look at people like me and wish your hair would frizz a little, that you would repeat your outfits as often as I do? Do you ever want to let your nail polish chip? Or is this, the coiffed hair, the ironed shirts; is this your version of happiness?

So seriously—how many of your unborn children did you sell on the black market to master that top knot and perfect skin? Inquiring minds want to know.  Your sweater definitely doesn't look like it came out of the dryer tangled up in a bra and underwear that has unraveled and wound its string around all your clothes so they're basically stuck with strangle lines the rest of their poor cotton lives.  Explain what I'm doing wrong here, Lima Bean. 

So I'm just throwing those questions out there for her in case she has time between getting ready and...getting ready to answer them.  Thanks, Lima.  

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In other news, we went to THE CUTEST farm (ranch? vineyard?) for FHE last night in Mapleton to pick raspberries.  And I'm obsessed.  Like, I'm ready to move there and be a berry farmer with bee hives!  And reindeer! And goats! 

ox/C

owning up to preposterous fears.

"hey little girl, could you take our picture for us? and could you try and get a little bit of the wall in it cause everyone else we've asked has seriously failed in the artsy department..."

she definitely did what she was asked.

also can we look at J's legs??? holy black.

Remember last fall when my car was infested with spiders? No, it isn’t absurd to be scared of the eight-legged devils. It was, however, ridiculous to avoid the car for days on end until finally begging my brother to come pick it up.  As in, made him walk to my apartment to get it so I wouldn't have to drive the 5 minutes in fear of another spider creeping out to take my life. Well, to some that's ridiculous. To me that’s just safety first. 

But my fear list doesn't end there.  Today, J and I went to Seven Peaks in Salt Lake to see what all the hype was about (note: it was such a party - i suggest it highly) and for whatever reason, I was mortified of the staircases leading up to the rides.  I'm sure I looked so handicapped walking up those treacherous things, with each step I took becoming more and more convinced it would be my last.  Those heights, man.  The rides? No problem.  I will take humiliating myself as I fly down a U-shaped slide and yet not make it up the final stretch only to slide down backwards and have to step off gracefully halfway through the ride as a whole crowd looked on (yes, that happened), but getting there takes some work.  

And let's not forget about the slide that got me out of my swimsuit.  We're talking bottoms-at-my-ankles-as-I-land-at-the-bottom.  Tell me how to get out of that one gracefully with a crowd of on-lookers that are simultaneously trying to get my tube from me as I'm pulling up my skivvies?  Sorry if you saw my lady parts, sir.  I should have warned you that the ride was just a good time and next thing I knew my bottoms slid right off! That darn slide.

Whew. 

The moral of all of this is...Seven Peaks Salt Lake is worth it? Even if you're terrified of heights and you lose your swimsuit and it is swarming with people that don't know how to take pictures? I think?

ox/C

on family and sleepovers

So my family lives here now. And I love it.  Sure, sometimes I feel a little stretched thin between all my activities (read: netflix and seven peaks) and family time, but after living so far away from them for so long, it's about dang time they came to Utah.  Maybe it's because I've moved so much or perhaps this is just the way it is, but I swear it doesn't matter where my parents are living - the second I walk in the door and smell mom-food, I feel right at home.  The best part:  I don't have to worry about getting all dressed up like a functional human being to just run over and get some food or hugs from Pammy Sue.  I can just roll up in my snuggie and eat like the resentful hermit that I am.

This past weekend we celebrated my aunt's birthday with those who could join us for lunch and let me just say: I love the women of my family.  We're all mildly funny but easily entertained by each other's mediocrity and, of course, the contagious laughs that abound when we're in each other's presence. We're all made of the same stuff, and it's great. 

the woman in the middle, whom we affectionately call Ma, is the best, most inspiring lady! you go, g-ma. 

it looks like we're drinking some cute alcoholic drink.
it's just water.

And because I just can't get enough of my lady-relatives, Heidi and I decided to have a sleepover on Friday night! Major win. 

So there was a lot of bonding going on that Friday night. Between me and Heidi, between me, Heidi and a bunch of my guy friends (welcome home, Quinn!! holla, all my boys be coming home), and between me, Heidi and Mimi. And it was a riot, I tell you.  Normally, when I’m trying to fuse together two groups of people I tend to get seriously awkward and try to force friendships: “Sally likes movies and you watched a movie today and Sally likes..breathing and so do you so…ha! Friends? Let’s take a picture together!" Luckily I didn’t have to build any bridges and those two got along swimmingly.  If I could have three wishes, they would be:

1. money. lots.

2. a personal chef

3. a video of the mimi-heidi-chrissy sleepover. a real riot, i tell you!! i am friends (relatives?) to the funniest people! 

I know that there are many things about childhood that we are all supposed to age out of.  I don't expect my parents to pay my bills (although...ok yeah that would be great), I am glad I no longer have a bedtime, and I don't ever want to be told what I have to eat for dinner.  I get that there are many things about growing up that are just necessities, and part of being a responsible adult is no longer enjoying the same things you did when you were seven (although the occasional prank call to my crush's house would still be fun now).  But there are some things we did which seem a complete shame to stop doing, even as we age into the bracket that requires a full-time job and the eventual profile on a dating website.  I need sleepovers now more than ever.  And having roommates is a great excuse for a never-ending sleepover. 

One of these days, I'm going to convince my roommates that we need a real sleepover, where we bring all our girlfriends (read: each other) over and we stay up all night watching tv, eating snacks, talking about boys, braiding each other's hair, doing our nails, and generally having a wonderful time free of judgment or expectation.  We can wear our pajamas and consume as many cinnamon rolls as our hearts desire, only wary of being the first to fall asleep and therefore becoming the receiving end of lighthearted pranks, such as having a penis drawn near our mouths or the tips of our fingers put into warm water so as to induce bed-wetting.  And before you ask, no, I have never actually done those things, I've only seen them done in movies.  I'm just reveling in a sleepover fantasy land here, alright?

So stay tuned for the sleepover of the year which I am currently working on.  Invites will be sent out soon.

Oh yeah, this happened this weekend too.  Taylor came into town and some major bonding time commenced!  

Also, my little hippe twin is back in town after her spontaneous trip to Californiaaaa!

So there was my weekend in a nutshell.  Hope yours was equally as full of laughs, crushes, and food. 

ox/C

reasons why rfg is the coolest and the weight gain involved with it is NOT.

Brace yourselves for a looooong but interesting (I promise! Ok I don't, but there are treats at the end!  If you are one of those people that considers pictures the equivalent of treats) post:

So remember this post from last year? RFG (Retreat for Girls) changes lives - mostly mine. And anything I post on here will not do it justice so feel free to go here and here for more info. K cool.  

But it really has been an incredible couple of weeks in which I worked part-time as a head counselor (with my little partner in crime Spike! see: blonde babe up above) and full-time as a walking panic attack.   I mean probably - I felt like I was in a lack-of-sleep-induced spiritual high in which I can't really recall details of the week, but it was a really challenging (yet fulfilling!!) opportunity.  Because I was in a different role than I was last year (last year, I had my own groups of girls and this year I acted as a counselor to the counselors) it really gave me some good time to reflect on my growth over the past year. 

Like, honestly.  I would literally throw last year's version of myself down a set of stairs.  Because I feel like so much of me has changed.  Fist pump!  Go, refiner's fire!  And I love RFG for that very reason.  It is constantly bettering (so I guess that IS in fact a word because there aren't any red squigglies under it? I thought I made it up...) me and it is all in thanks to the Lord, obviously, and also the amazing counselors!

ready for this?

back row, left to right: bug, frosting, mamba, frenchie, pember, shuffle, serenity, ricki, beffy, barney
back row, left to right: mango, JOLIE, spaz, road runner (ra ra), belle, sunshine, m&m, giggles, spike

so now you have a list of baby names. you're welcome. 

giggles                                                                       spike                                                                                       shuffle   

Aren't we cute?  

And now commence...a story describing the most random night of my life:

As true to RFG tradition (er...a tradition of one year, that is), we stopped by Texas Roadhouse after the first session ended on Friday evening.  Just for some good old fashioned fun.  Which quickly escalated into a birthday party.  FOR ME. I know, my birthday was well over a month ago, but hey, I'm a roll-with-the-punches kind of gal.  When someone tells me it's my birthday, gosh darn it they're right.  Now where is my free cake, people?!

And it wouldn't be a birthday if a man wasn't involved, am I right? 

No. No, I definitely could have gone without the man.  See, here's what happened.  After I got sung a little birthday diddy, homeboy two tables down decided it was his birthday too.  Suuuuure. I'm on to you, buddy. 

It really was his birthday. His 28th, we later found out. Woops?

So after his birthday is celebrated by the workers of Texas Roadhouse (a big yeeeeeeeee-haw! included), the girls at my table start chanting BIRTHDAY KISS! BIRTHDAY KISS!  And he waltzes over to my table and lays one on me. Just to clarify, it looks like my hand is grabbing onto his shirt in a "I think you're sexy get your body closer to mine" type of grasp. No no. It was just an awkward arm.  Very dinosaur-like, really. 

And that is how a not-22 year old (he lied to me) kissed me on my not 21st (I lied to them) birthday.  And now I would like to start a charity called "Christina will no longer be the victim of hate crimes.  Unless free birthday cake is involved."

And now let's talk about real the issue at hand. 

This year, I was determined to make some lifestyle changes while up in Logan. Namely, cutting out Diet Coke.  Remember that refiner's fire I was talking about earlier?? Yeah, this is where it came into play. Oh well and also...I guess I did a lot of work spiritually too.  But let's focus on my DC problem.  I did in fact only have one soda the entire time I was at Retreat.  But does that mean I lost weight? 

Absolutely not. Despite the miles of walking I did each day.  

To make myself feel better, at the end of the second session, I compiled a list.  

Reasons I Still Haven't Lost All the Weight I Said I Would Back In May:

:: I'm big boned?

:: I can't afford a new wardrobe.

:: It's been too hot - WAY too hot - to run. On the treadmill. Inside the gym.

:: So...donuts.

:: And also Taco Bell.

:: It's all muscle weight, I swear. Lots of lean muscle. Right on my abs. And my inner thighs.  

:: Sometimes, I give myself a "free day" (binge day - you know).  Sometimes, my "free day" turns into "free days" which then turns into "free weekends."  And by sometimes I definitely mean "every time a week contains a Friday, followed by a Saturday then a Sunday." So that's cool.

:: Elephantitis. Probably. 

Ok ok enough talking. Here are some pictures of my favorite ladies to send you on your way!

I love this picture very much because it includes Katie (far right) and Anita (far left) - and they are honest to goodness some of my heroes. I love these women!

Aaaaaaand here'e the treat you were promised! 

Yaaaaaaaaay. 

spike, jolie, bigdawgdaddy and frosting.