Kitchen Crumbs

My life ain't perfect. And I hope my blog never gives off that false impression. You know those people you follow on Insta that completely bombard you with pictures of their perfect spouse, perfect outfits, perfect dinners and perfect lifestyles? You don't have to delve deep into my Internet presence to see that 1) I have none of those things, 2) I am an emotional psychopath, 3) I had perfect hair pre mission but 4) I don't anymore.*sobs*

As a society we want to live up to that perfect norm characterized by spontaneity and cute sunglasses and candid laughing pictures. (My dream:to one day get a cute candid laughing picture. My belly laugh creates strange facial contortions that are anything but adorable.) It's time to be genuine with everyone. 

We all have bad days. And they can be much more regular than we like to let on. I try to fill my life with positive and fun adventures, but sadness is a thing, and I'm not going to try and shove it under the refrigerator like unseemly kitchen crumbs so no one will see it. 

About a week ago I felt like I had one too many crumbs littering the kitchen of my life. It was 8 AM and I had just spent several grueling hours trying to stay positive as my flipping vacuum kept breaking. Without any real cause at all I felt unloved, forgotten and blue. My little spirit had been weighed down with worldly cares and it was like everywhere I turned I saw my imperfections snarling back at me. 

In despair I sat down to eat away my sorrows in Cinnamon Toast Crunch (don't buy this cereal in bulk unless you want to eat it for every meal til it runs out. Addiction). As custom I began to offer a prayer to God, thanking him for the food before me. As I prayed I unburdened my soul. "Oh God. I know I have a long way to go. I know I'm self-centered and slightly inappropriate. There's no reason I should be sad, so why do I want to cry? Please help me to feel your love. Anything will help. I just need a hug from you." 

Immediately on opening my eyes I saw this pop up on my phone screen. 

Quiet tears coursed down my face as I stared at this text message. Three words I. Love. Alex. And the senders name at the top. Dad.

We have a loving Father in Heaven. He loves us more than anything we can comprehend. He doesn't mind that we're sad for no reason sometimes. He doesn't hold back his love because his children are disobedient and imperfect and slightly bruised and tattered. In the words of President Thomas S Monson, " His love is simply always there."

I am grateful that I don't have to pretend that my life is just one big ball of perfect. It's not, nor will it ever be. I'm grateful for a dad who has no qualms of sending me a three word text message in the morning to say he loves me. And most of all, I'm grateful that I can feel the Supreme Creator's love at all times. He answers prayers. It is no coincidence that I got that message right after my pleadings for a sign of His love. He lives. He loves us.

Be grateful for the kitchen crumbs.

Toodles Noodles (Provo Farewells)

It's that time of year in Provo-land again. Everybody with a pulse is getting all twitter-pated, making out with lovers, and planning weddings. For us single folk, it is the time to pack up three cars worth of stuff, pretend to clean, and skedaddle to the town limits. I have been anticipating this moment for a long  time, the moment when I get to sprint on home to my Hood River. Although I am pleased as panda bears that I am going back to OREGON, I really do love the little home I have created in Provo.

I love how the sun tricks you to wear short sleeve shirts out in the middle of winter. Sun does not equal warmth here.
I love how almost everyone is as big of a geek as me. Most of the University is obsessed with Harry Potter, LOTR, Chronicles of Narnia, or any other loserish series that involves magic and sexy Rangers. (Aragorn is so YUMMY.)
I love the people who sit on their arses instead of climbing at The Quarry. The mystery has never been solved as to why these individuals love to sit on carpet that smells of a million sweaty feet.
I love all the babies that get paraded around campus come spring-time. Once I saw a whole group of babies with rain boots on and I think I actually stopped breathing for a couple minutes.
I love all the sexy guys that seem to be everywhere...even if they don't love me.
I love fighting with Ellis-Island and teasing Logan till he cries. I also love being "clever" with Kristen and being obsessed with my Emma-friend and Steffen (hubby).
I love the large demographic of baby tractors in Utah Valley. I have no idea why there are so many, but  consider me thankful in every sense of the word.
I love spending a large portion of my monthly budget on curry. Lots and lots of curry.
I LOVE WINCO.
I love dressing up super cute the first week of class and then when I don't scope out any hotties, dressing up like a hobo for the rest of the semester.
I love being a whiney, needy child to my sister.
I love mountain/road biking, climbing, long boarding, roller blading, backcountry/XC/downhill skiing, and all other types of adventuring. I also like to brag about them. Get over it.

This is Steffen my husband. And do not ask me why I feel an innate need to mess up every picture. It really baffles me. And my Grandmother.

I love my Emma-friend. And it is impossible to say anything sarcastic about her. Besides the fact that her native language is mumbling. 

This is my "I am on top of a mountain" pose. 

Awkward Family Photo.

Most adorable baby-tractor I ever did see. 

The Quarry. Where the carpet smells and the people smell worse.

Da Pow Pow skis.

Ellis-Island. I can't go anywhere by myself without people getting overly concerned about where my other half is. 

I really do love Provo-town. See you in two!

Toodles to the Noodles.

Staycation And Lots O' Pictures

My kinfolk came to Utah this week and I was in paradise. I lurve my family so much and I lurve attention-hogging even more so it was a fantastic time for me. It was an extreme fun-frenzy of skiing, eating, and adventuring and now that they have deserted me I am left with a soft belly and a smidgen of homesickness. (When I say "smidgen" I mean that I sobbed when I said bye to my mother. Pretty sure I have separation anxiety at 19 years of age. In my Psychology class we would classify that as "abnormal".)

So to battle the post-staycation blues I have posted my favorite moments captured on film (fancy way of saying pictures). I know you probably won't enjoy it as much as I do...but you probably don't reread these posts when you're bored like I do, so get over it. 

When all your siblings look cool and you realize you have had a gaper gap all day. 

Sunny days at Snowbird. And I wasn't that loner eating her lunch on the lift! 

My dream come true: Everyone is paying attention to me and they seem amused. 

Lunching.

 When the forks look like mustaches and you make everyone take a picture because it is that noteworthy.

Showing my skillz off to my parents, who ooh and ahh like they're supposed to. 

Seriously, why don't all gas stations have dino's like this one?!?

Lately I have realized that one of my greatest goals in life is to have this boy acknowledge that I am hilarious and the coolest kitty around. It has not come to fruition yet. But I will not give up hope. 

We went caving at what I like to call "The Mountain's Butthole" because it smelled foul. My hypothesis is that hundreds of generations of humans and animals have used that cave as a place to relieve themselves.  I also got stuck and it was a huge ordeal that resulted in hyperventilating and squealing for help. 

I was so in love with this picture at first. Look at my hair blowing in the wind! So Beyonce. And then I realized I had dirt in my teeth. Dream killer. 

Beautiful Shannon. She acquired a boyfriend and will no longer tolerate me flirting with her. 

Holy Catfish, greatest week ever. Staycation = Bomb dot com. Now I have to return to real life and buy groceries and do other things that are required of semi-independent adults. 

Time for Easter holidayness!