school, work and the end of internet dating

I've had a really great first week back to school. I'm excited about my classes. Two design and three must haves. It will be an intense semester since Space Planning has been said to be the hardest class of the program. We'll see. I'm not taking the threats lightly, I did have to acquire SIX textbooks for the course.

On the work front I'm still enjoying myself. I feel like it is a huge advantage to be working for a designer of Aubrey's caliber. I knew there had to be a snag somewhere and I've found it but I have yet to find the solution. I am looking for ways to get past it so I can go back to fully enjoying myself without the nagging in the back of my head that I'll never get over the feeling of being criticized every time I'm at work. "It's making me a stronger designer and person." Repeat 900 times.

I promised funny dating stories and man do I have one for you. I'll share it with you briefly but please know I'm not telling the story to be mean about this guy. I'd never be cruel.

First, who would lie about their height? I wouldn't. I love being tall. And while I've dated guys shorter than me before I prefer not to.

I met up with someone for lunch this week who told me he was 6'1. Then why is it that when we stood in line for our sandwiches at Toasters could I look down on his shoulders? True, I was wearing heels but this was still off by my calculations and previous experience because anything over 6' is good. I brought it up immediately. His response? Oh, girls are never as tall as they say they are so he didn't think it mattered. OK. So integrity isn't too high on his list of traits. Par for what I've seen this round.

We got our food {YUM!} and he couldn't eat he was so worked up. He never finished any of his thoughts so I'm did my best to put him at ease, enjoyed my lunch and entertainment until he wanted to tell me a story. He asked how much time I have before he would begin telling me he loved telling this story. Gulp. I don't think it is ever a good sign when faced with a story to have the storyteller ask for a time limit. Consult my watch. I have 20 minutes to get to the office so get going buddy. 'The long version or the Reader's Digest?' The latter please.

40 minutes later he's finally winding it down. He's lost lucidity a few times throughout his story and just stared off into space to think about who knows what. I'd take this as my cue to comment and try to change the subject but he'd get right back into his story. {His story was ironically about how he'd been knocked into a coma as a kid and about spending a week as an insane person in a hospital} I'm gnawing on my arm to stay focused and polite and wondering if he'd notice if I ducked around the corner and ran for my car when he become completely alert. 'Jenna, tell me, will there be a second date?'

I froze.

This guy is obviously troubled. I would rather be a cat lady than go out again but I say 'Sure' with so much enthusiasm I even believe it. Sheesh.

Don't worry, I don't answer my phone anymore anyway.

So there you have it. The last date to round two of dating online. Thus ends an era that will not be repeated. It was really fun the first time when I lived in St. George. I met some amazing people but this time around all I've met are {mostly} liars and crazy people.

Good riddance and goodnight!

memories

My parents are here and brought some of Ben's old albums so we could transfer the photos out of that icky old stuff to the acid free books before the pictures are completely destroyed.

I thought I'd share a few of my favorites...

Coree and me
Ben in a bucket.
Who won I wonder?
Beautiful Grandma, my big brother and me.
The folks and me. My guess is we are in the Tetons somewhere. The neighborhood kids. {I'm in the stroller.} I know there is a story to this but I don't remember how it goes. Ask my mom. I think they all liked pushing the stroller. This was pre-throw me off the back porch into a blanket and down the stairs in a sleeping bag era I suppose. Don't think Ben was a bad brother for doing these things. I begged him to do it!

I don't bleed red. How about aubergine?

Thank you for your interest in the name of my faceless adventure date a couple days ago. I've decided to keep it that way for now. I could start giving out code names again. RC22, RC23 but it poses the threat of becoming pathetic should I reach a high number like RC784 and still no luck.

Coree and I declared a Social Revolution a couple weeks back so I've been out n about doing my best to not shoot down possibilities before I give them a chance. That's the problem with high expectations.

I would love to entertain you all with my experiences. Especially since the majority of you view them from your snug vantage point from the other side of married.

I went to the Utes game last night and have to tell you that I'm still the most un-enthused football fan alive. I thought it sounded fun when my date asked me to go because I do like a stadium full of excited people as much as the next person {unless the next person is Grandpa Awesome} But we were in a box so I felt removed from the party and it was more like glorified sports on tv with free popcorn and fancy neighbors.

I amused myself by watching giant moths and the light change on the mountains.

So after giving it another go, I've decided to break up with football for good.

Football: Was it something I said?
Me: No. Although I've never understood you. 'Blue, 32...' What is that?
Football: Is there someone else?
Me: It isn't you, it's me.
Football: Can we still be friends?
Me: I just don't really see the point.
Football: Ok. Good game.

skyline

Absolutely the most perfect day to go for a ride.
I was all the more pleased that I got to ride my own 4wheeler. That way I could go my pace. {fast but not kamikaze}
It was warm, but crisp. Smelled like fall and gasoline. Dust and evergreen sap.

I dove thru giant puddles and hit bumps at high speed. Took it easy on the downward parts, full throttle on the uphill. We rode from the B to the airplane radar towers {what I've always thought were observatories} above Farmington and everywhere in between.

In my opinion, the perfect way to spend a friday fall afternoon. And not a bad first date either. Not the usual interrogation, 50 question, sizing each other up kind of event.

And it didn't matter that I was covered in dirt.

mother dear

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!

Mom, you are fearless. When I think of you, I think of someone who loves life and has it together. Nothing gets you down. Someone who is happy and laughs easily. A fantastic listener and confidant. You are classy and confident. Genuine.

{And a lion tamer.}
'Since having children does mean giving up so much, good parents naturally do, and should, expect something from their children in return: not spoken thanks for being born or being cared for... but...willingness to accept the parents' standards and ideals.' - Dr. Spock

I could be so lucky to become someone like you!
Thanks for being my mom and friend.
luv u

lesson learned from the ding

The art of losing isn't hard to master,
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, caster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.

-Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master
thought it may look like {Write it!} like disaster.

"one art" from The Complete Poems 1927-79 - Elizabeth Bishop

Why this poem came to mind today, not really sure. I guess I was thinking a lot about how much I value things that I shouldn't and wishing I could change that habit. I walked outside this beautiful fall morning to find my car with a new ding in it. Not a big one, but an annoying one, left by someone in the night.

I wanted to cry at first when I saw my trusty silver friend. It seems to be taking a slow brutal beating these days. But no more. I made an appointment to make amends. We will start fresh, my friend, and the dings will come to a stop. By the time I was done with dealing with this I had been reminded that my things are just that. Things.

But, I like my things just so.

Add this to my unusual list: I love to organize my things and clean my things and disinfect them too.

But I think if you took them all away I would still be OK. {gulp.} Can you imagine? Could I really be OK if I had to part with my things? I think of people my parents are friends with, with not a thing to their name and I know they are happy, so I could be too.

Easier said, I'm sure but I liked to think that I passed this test today. No temper, no tears, just resolving and realizing again that I don't much care what obstacle comes my way. I like finding that it can be handled, and so surprised when I see it from the other side, accomplished.

labor day

Happy Birthday Vicky dear. Hope you are having a wonderful day my beautiful, fun, extremely talented aunt.

I'm celebrating this rainy beautiful holiday {lucky people who get their bdays on holidays!} reading the 5th book to the Twilight series...

Did I just get your undivided attention? Did you know you can read the partial draft of Midnight Sun on Stephanie Meyer's website? I might be slow to this knowledge, you've probably already read it, but in case I know something you don't, go check it out! She has it posted there for you to read since it leaked out somehow and she'd decided to share it with us so as to keep us honest.