Saturday Stories: The End of an Era

I had been through a drought of dating. It was a famine of epic proportions. I think it had been 3 years since I'd been on a date.

And then I went out on a date with a guy my friend set me up with... in the midst of the date, I was alone at the bowling lane. So I checked my phone. There was a text from a guy I knew, Brad. Brad wanted to know if I could go see a movie.

When I was home from the date, I sent a text back that I couldn't because I had been out. He asked it I wanted to go out the next night. I said yes.

I didn't think it was a date. I thought it was a "hey, Emery's been having a rough time so we should hang out although we've never really hung out." But yet he dressed up, opened my doors, bought me a frappuccino from Starbucks, bought my movie ticket and was a perfect gentleman. 

I was smitten.

In one night, I grew a full blown crush on this guy that I had been superficially interacting with for a few months. And now... yep. I was a goner. (I realize now how ridiculous that was, but bear with me... like I said, there was famine in the land. One seems to always overeat after starving...)

A week later, we went to an activity that involved being on a train and cruising one of the valleys. It was in the evening and Brad found me. And we spent almost the entire train ride talking and flirting. In fact, there were a couple of moments when we got extremely close and I imagined that maybe he'd be the one to break the other drought—the haven't been kissed in 9 years drought.

Sunday, we saw each other and he gave me a nice little speech that we had gotten too close and he wasn't really interested in me "that way". 

Being the naive girl, I decided that I would find a way to convince him that he really didn't want me. 

For the record... it never works.

Wednesday Letters: Thanksgiving

Dear Thanksgiving,

I don't hate you.

It's just that I don't have a lot of decorations.

And Christmas has glitter and twinkle lights and sweets.

You, on the other hand, have lots of heavy food... and football games... and shopping. Which I love. It just makes it difficult to decorate.

So don't think that because my Christmas decorations have come out and the Christmas movies are playing, and I'm dancing to Christmas music that I'm over you.

I'm not.

I like you.

I just like Christmas a little more.

Don't cry too much.

 [source]

Love,

Emery

And It Slips Away

Thanksgiving is next week.

Let me reiterate that:

Thanksgiving is next week!!!

I am not prepared.

First off, I haven't lost the 20 pounds that I'm probably going to gain in the next 6 weeks.

Secondly, I'm not prepared for my semester to be over (alright... I am actually ready for that. I can't stand school anymore.). 

But I am prepared for Christmas, as evidenced by the Instagram picture taken last night:

Yep. The garland is hung. I will next be hunting for the stocking holders. My roommate suggested that I use left over cardboard from the box my new bed shipped in to make the bar look like a fireplace. But that seems to take more time and effort than what it's worth.

It's not that I hate Thanksgiving, I just think that they are wrapped up in each other. Because of Thanksgiving, I get to celebrate Christmas a little longer and be grateful and give to others. I don't know how to explain it. But I love this time of year.

I also love the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade. Which I will be watching. On a big screen TV. At least, that's what I'm hoping.

Also, I bought my ticket back to San Diego for Christmas. There will be children. And warm weather. Definitely beats the snow fall that we recently had here in Salt Lake City.

Ripping Off the Band-Aid

I've always been a firm believer in ripping off the band-aid. I can handle the temporary explosion of pain that quickly subsides over the agonizing continuous pain that can come as someone tries to rip it off little by little. 

So, today, I'm going to rip off a band-aid and share something.

I'm overweight.

I have been for a long time. But I used to be worse. 

I struggled with weight for a long time. I could never get in a rhythm to get rid of it or to exercise regularly. And because of it, I allowed myself to be defined as the overweight, ugly girl. 

It pains me to post this... can you see my thunder thighs and my otherwise non-existant waistline? Yep... this was before I started to do something about all of that...

It only made sense that the reason I wasn't getting asked out was because I was fat. Right? I mean, I can carry on conversations about almost any topic and ask questions, so clearly, I just need to be prettier?

I hate this picture... I haven't looked at it in years... but I just...

Ugh... I can't believe I let myself get there...

Well, I've lost about 30 pounds since I started to get serious about losing weight. I'm plateauing but I know that I could eat better (here's to hoping that I can do that this week....). But the truth is, I still let those former thoughts define me and how I expect to be treated.

I know I tell my stories of being in the dating scene, but the truth is, every time something goes wrong or there is a rejection, I look internally and think, "Dang it all, Emery! It's because you can't seem to get your butt into gear and really lose weight again. Your personality only takes you so far." 

And so it becomes a vicious cycle. There are days like yesterday where I have to dress up and look pretty and every piece of clothing that I try on magically doesn't fit. Or what made me look slender two weeks ago, now tugs and flaunts all of the rolls and curves that shouldn't be there. But instead of putting on the go-to maxi skirt and the baggy t-shirt, I went with something a little less comfortable and decided I could suck it up. 

So what I'm trying to say is that I struggle. A lot. It takes a lot for me to say that I look pretty. To really accept a compliment. And maybe it explains why I so often question the motives of the boy who starts talking to me. Because in the back of my mind, I think: "I'm fat. Why aren't you talking to the skinny girl sitting at the desk?"

But I'm trying to change. It's just going to take a while.

For the record... this is me a couple of weeks ago...

I'll try not to point out to you the various blemishes I have and the squinty eyes (my eyes are probably my favorite feature...). But I'll end this post with a pretty picture.

Saturday Stories: Oh the Arrogance...

Just last Sunday, I was invited to my friend's house for dinner.

En route to her house, I called my parents to have our weekly Sunday talk. I arrived before we had finished and so I parked and sat in my car talking on the phone. 

As we finished, I looked out the window to notice a young man staring at me. Not unattractive, but certainly not drop dead handsome (we're not talking Chris Evans, here...). He pointed up to the apartment and then to me. I hung up with my parents, and got out of my car.

Him: "Oh... do I know you?"

Me: "No."

Him: "So you're not Cassie?"

Me: "Obviously."

We both went up to Cassie's apartment. However, this guy made it a point to flirt with me. Being the only single girl besides Cassie, he sought to conquer. And although I did not desire his attention (and I only loved it a little bit until I realized that he was one of THOSE guys who wants all the girls to be in love with him), he certainly knew which buttons to push to make me blush.

As I left, he decided that he needed to give me a hug and to take a picture with me. 

I got into my car and wasn't thrilled by a new possibility... rather I was annoyed. Sure, I want to be won over, but not for the pride of being won over, but because I am wanted.

I hope I don't ever see him again.

Wednesday Letters: To the Costume Makers

Dear Costume Makers,

I don't believe in dressing up for Halloween.

Maybe because my mother didn't like finding me costumes or she often went with a homemade outfit that just wasn't as cool as my friends.

But even if I did like dressing up... I have yet to find a costume that isn't slutty. Seriously? Does Strawberry Shortcake REALLY need to be slutty? You're making a mockery of my childhood.

Just sayin'.

Cordially,

Emery

Back to the Grind

I can't believe it's back to being Monday again.

I also can't believe how exhausted I am and it's only Monday.

Maybe I feel a little bad that Monday gets to be a such a bummer day.

But I'll give you a recap of last week:

1. Landed an internship for next semester doing social media. That's pretty cool!

2. Went to the gym 3 times during the week (that's an accomplishment, trust me).

3. Hosted a party for some of my friends. We called it Witches' night and involved us dressing up as witches and make pumpkins from pretty paper (thank you, Pinterest):

4. Watched Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring and Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. What you don't know is that I never before made it through both movies. I have fallen asleep every single time I tried to watch either of them (which may have been like one try for each movie). I feel the need to get Return of the King and polish it off.

It was a decent week. I didn't do as much as I hoped to with my schoolwork or work projects, but hopefully I'll do better this week. Keeping my fingers crossed.

Also, I'm wishing that my big bed would come soon. I think we're down to a couple of weeks worth of waiting now. HURRAY!

Saturday Stories: Cheesecake Always Wins

There once was a boy.

I hated him on first sight. 

Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. I didn't like him though. He was the guy that EVERY girl was interested in. He was always surrounded by a grouping of girls. I don't like boys like that... they breed competition amongst girls. And as a self-proclaimed wallflower, I feel like I'm always going to be lost in the shuffle. 

But a group of people played softball every Thursday night. In the hopes that I could be a bit more social, I started to go. And then I remembered that as good as I think I am with sports, I'm rather slow and fat (it's true).

After the games, the group went to a ice cream place to celebrate our victories. We were that good. Except, I would head home. I had homework to do or work the next day and ice cream wasn't on the agenda (please also refer to the aforementioned fact that I was fat.).

But one time... one time I decided to go. Looking back, I can't decide that if it happened all over again, if I would go or wouldn't. 

This boy sat across from me and we talked. Really talked. Everyone else was joking or being twenty-something year olds without a care in the world, but we leaned in close and talked about things that were real, things that require a serious tone and maybe a witty joke to lighten the mood.

And he asked about a Facebook post I had made. Free cheesecake for someone who'd go with me to a restaurant. He wanted to go. So we agreed to meet the next day. 

He came. We ate. We talked. We laughed.

By the end of it, I was smitten. Forgotten was another boy who I had been holding on to for a month, hoping that maybe things would change and he'd like me. No more.

I don't think I've had a piece of cheesecake since then. Nor have I been back to that restaurant. That probably should change soon.

Wednesday Letters: Roomie

Dear Roommate 

(or more preferably, flatmate because even if we aren't in England, we don't share a room. We share an apartment):

Thank you for making me breakfast yesterday when I woke up late because I failed to set my alarm to wake me up. 

I know that my waking up late delayed your getting in the shower, so I appreciate you making an effort to help me get out the door (and even be to work early). 

Hopefully this won't happen again (fingers are crossed....)

With deepest appreciation,

Emery

Monday Night: Exercise Night

I love a good weekend.

A weekend of relaxing. An extra day where I take a mental health day to recoup. Watching Arsenic and Old Lace with my sister-in-law and niece (I think we're on four years running with this tradition. We all adore Cary Grant.).

And then Monday comes around.

I've found that living in a basement apartment brings me trouble. I used to use the sun as an alarm clock. Currently, I don't see the sun in the morning. It's dark. So mornings are getting a little harder for me to handle.

So... what's on tap this week? Well, I've already landed myself an internship for next semester so it's figuring out 3-4 learning outcomes for that. As well as work, starting my paper, and getting ready for the Witches' night my friends and I are having.

But tonight? Tonight is always spent at the gym with my friend Lucy. We go and we work up a good sweat. Because I need to lose weight. Seriously. I think I'm going to have to post one of these days telling you about my journey/story of losing weight. But I do love gym night. 

Now I should go to bed. Since I'm having trouble waking up and all.

Saturday Stories: The Library Part 2

I'm running out of stories.

That's a bit scary for me.

Maybe I'm not the dating aficionado that I make myself out to be. There was that five year dry spell... and then the two year after that...

But, none the less, I shall dig into my recesses and find more after this weekend...

Today's story, once again, occurred in the library. (After it happened, I seriously questioned my choice of degree).

I was straightening books, counting down the minutes until I could go home (sounds pretty much like my real job on some days). 

And then, someone said something. 

It's a downtown city library so there are plenty of crazies or homeless people who stay there in the middle of winter to keep warm and be off the street. It's free. There are places to sit. So I just assumed that he was crazy...

Nope.

He repeated himself. He was talking to me.

He asked if I worked at the library. He asked why I worked at the library. He asked if I had a boyfriend. Then he asked me for my number and if we could go out for coffee. 

I panicked. This was maybe the first time in my life a man had asked for my phone number. Sure, I'd lost a lot of weight (to be documented in a future blog post), but I couldn't be THAT attractive... Or could I?

So, I gave him my number.

And prayed that he wouldn't call.

Later that day, I missed a phone call. When I googled the number, it came from the homeless shelter. But the guy had a cell phone. 

I never got another phone call. 

And I've yet to find another man to pick me up. Apparently I need to start going back to the library.

Wednesday Letters: New Store, New Clothes

Dear J. Crew,

We haven't really ever met. 

I've maybe been in one of your stores twice in my life. 

It wasn't anything personal with you. I, on the other hand, have lots of issues with my weight, my body shape, etc. I feared that your very trendy and smaller sizes would not fit a curvy girl so I stayed away because I felt like you would hurt my self-esteem more than improve it.

However, you offer a discount to students. On top of sales. And so I went with a friend on Monday.

How wrong I was. How wrong indeed. 

Two sweaters and two blouses later, I'm now feeling very much more stylish than before. Also, I'm feeling cute.

So, thanks, J. Crew. I hope we meet again soon.

Love,

Emery

Mondays and Midterms

Why does it feel like I'm more tired at the end of the weekend than I was when it started?

Also, when did weekends start to go by more quickly?

Back at work, and also I have three days to finish my midterm essays. I pretty much feel like my preparation is like this graphic:

 [source]

However, I'm not really watching 30 Rock. I think I only got to Season 3 before other TV shows entered my life. But don't worry, I'm busy catching up on Downton Abbey Season 3, Merlin Season 5, NCIS, The New Girl Season 1, and The Good Wife. It's a good thing I go to the gym a couple of times a week. That's when a lot of TV show watching is happening.

But I'm determined to prevail. PREVAIL! I will beat my midterm.

Perhaps me saying it will ensure this outcome. (*cough*Wishfulthinking*cough*)

Also, I did a lot of shopping because it was necessary (or I was just avoiding my essays). Got new towels (I can't believe I got excited about towels) and Christmas decorations (apparently I can't do the whole fall decorations bit so we skip right to Christmas. And I'm READY!)

How was your weekend?

Saturday Stories: My Butt, My Property

So... I was telling you about J.J.

After the text conversation I thought things were odd...

A few months later, I was at a ward activity. It was bowling. I was enjoying myself, being on a lane with my friends, eating pizza and drinking soda. Next to us was one of our leaders and his family.

As I stood to head up to bowl my turn, I felt something slap across my butt.

That's right. My butt.

I turned and there was J.J. 

He was pointing to our leader, yet his bowling shoes were in his hand. I sensed that these were the objects that had been used to slap me.

I glared at J.J. and scoffed at his attempts to convince me that our happily married leader would slap me across the butt with his children sitting right next to us.

That was the last time we really ever spoke. I think he got the hint that flirting with me takes a little bit of effort... and subtlety. 

Tech Thursday: Finding Your Audience

Okay... back on track.

Let's talk about Twitter today.

Why should you be on twitter?

Well, it all depends on your audience. Who do you want as your audience?

This blog has some amazing infographics about the audience on twitter, but let's look at a couple of these charts:

 What do you notice?

First... there's a lot of pink... in this case, that represents females. 

That doesn't surprise me. Most of the people I follow are women. Oh, I follow some men for music information, entertainment purposes, and sports, but the majority of people I follow, respond to, mention, etc. are women. 

Second: Notice the age range... 10-20 year olds make up the biggest group followed by 21-25. Once again, females have a lead on males in those age categories.

So, if that's your audience, you should go where your audience is and join the conversation. Don't push your way into the conversation.

It's like when I go to a party. I look around and I found the group of people who I can identify with the most. Or I hope to see a friend nearby. Then I head in the direction of that group. I slide in and listen intently. And then join with my thoughts when appropriate. And suddenly, you're accepted. People respond to you. You're part of the conversation.

So... find your audience. Be there and listen intently.

Listening works both for finding your audience and also dating. Just sayin. (Of course... I'm giving myself that advice because apparently I need it...)
 

Vacation

It's been two and a half weeks. 

This is what happens when you move.

But I'm back now. Settled. The front room is mostly empty of boxes. I only have to take a couple of more trips to Target to purchase plastic bins for my nick-knacks and yarn (yep... I have a lot of yarn. I crochet. Did I mention that? I try to keep that on the DL...). So I can get back to blogging.

Since I've been away:

 Twin came into town and visited me. I gave him the grand tour of my office building.

 

 My boss said something rude so he bought me a maple bar to make it up to me.

I'm a sucker for a maple bar.

 

 Watched my sister play softball. 

She's still got it.

 Pumpkin spice is back at Starbucks. I usually get a hot chocolate.

Also, a place I frequent in the current locale is Beans & Brews. They have a maple vanilla that is to die for. Just as a recommendation.

 Why yes... I purchased new shoes that are totally not my normal style.

But I couldn't resist.

And now I'm looking at my outfit today and I realized that I should've worn them. DANG IT!

 I've discovered that Pandora is cruel.

See exhibit A above.

The weather has turned cold. There is frost on my windshield every morning.

And now an advertisement telling me about sunny vibes.

Don't worry. 77 days until Christmas and probably 75 until I'm back in San Diego.

Wednesday Letters: Dear Santa

Dear Santa,

89 days.

89 days until Christmas.

I'm putting in my order a little early. I hope you don't mind. I promise to: 

*still be good

*try to be nicer

*have a better attitude at work

*not complain as much

*do all of my homework

*be happy

Here's what I'm asking for:

*a boyfriend (I know... I ask every year. But I just keep hoping that maybe you'll come through).

*10 lbs. magically to disappear, preferably from my butt and thigh region.

*nail polish that won't chip on my fingers. How in the heck does it stay for a MONTH on my feet, but it won't last two days on my fingers. This is a problem that needs to be addressed.

*a song written just for me. Maybe you don't have to deliver this. It could accompany gift option #1. Just sayin'. 

That's all. Not too tall of an order, right? Better than the Barbie mansion I asked for like 12 years ago (which you never brought... thankyouverymuch). 

With fondest regards,

Emery

Moving Week

I have good news and bad news...

Good news: I'm moving to a beautiful new apartment (BIG!!) with cheaper rent.

Bad news: I'm moving.

[source]

I loathe packing. I loathe loading up my car, driving two miles and unpacking the car. I hate reorganizing.

I do appreciate the de-junking process. I will be taking multiple trips to the local secondhand store with various donations.

But it also means between that, a full-time job and two graduate school courses, I'm running a little thin on time. So if I disappear again this week (like last week) just know that blogging had to come low on the priority list.

It happens. 

Always a Good Idea

Monday has arrived once again.

But this weekend was glorious. 

It started here:

S'mores with Reese's. Only way to do it.

 

Then came this. The sunrise. Beautiful.

Fall is in the air.

 Can you see the colors?

An essential stop.

  It's true... what happens at the cabin, stays there.

Lastly... this is in the bathroom at a McDonald's. Dead serious.

It's a flat screen TV turned to the news.

 That ain't no ghetto place.

How was your weekend?

Saturday Stories: The Texter

I'm not a big fan of texting.

It's really hard to say everything you mean in 160 characters.

(I have a difficult time with Twitter. I also refuse to use the shortened phrases like "k" or "OMG" or "c u soon". Yuck. Those tear at my tender English literature loving heart."

Still, I'm okay with sending a text to confirm plans or make plans or whatever. Sometimes you don't want to blab on the phone. I get it.

One day, my brother and his family were in town and invited me to dinner. I headed up to the mountains to their condo and patiently waited with my niece and nephews for my brother to arrive.

Out of the blue, J.J. (note: real name has been changed to protect the innocent) sends me a text. Sure, we knew each other from our singles ward. Maybe we had a few conversations. One of which was him telling me that there were no pretty girls in the ward. Oh-kay....

Anyways, he sends me a text:

What are you doing? - J.J.

My thoughts: What in the world? It's a Friday night. Does he need some information for church?

My text: I'm in Park City. What's up?

Park City? - J.J.

My thoughts: Didn't I just say that?

My text: Yeah. My brother is in town and I came up here for dinner. What do you need?

Oh cool. Well I'll let you go.

My thoughts: Say what????

My text: Okay. Have a good night.

Confused? Yeah... I was too. 

And then, I noticed that J.J. started to come around more often in social settings. At least sitting next to me. Although J.J. was nice (I was still bothered about his "pretty girls" assessment), there was no attraction on my part but seeing as how I get asked so few times, I tried to just be nice. And waited for him to ask me out.

It never happened.

And then we were put into separate wards.

And then I felt like it was okay to unfriend him from Facebook.

Running Away

There are times when you just have to run away for a bit.

Correction:
There are times when you I just have to run away for a bit.

Usually those times involve a boy. When my heart has been broken, once again, and I need to go back and pick up the pieces.

It's not his fault. Well, maybe a little. But maybe I shouldn't have gotten too excited or read too much into things. 

He had to move back to the office down south and I have yet to hear from him. It's been two weeks. In fact, he never told me when he was going to move, only that he was moving. 

And so we accept that perhaps, this latest experiment/kismet/whatever was only a cruel trick of someone's.

I found the perfect quote to describe the situation:

"I've never forgotten him. Dare I say I miss him? I do. I miss him. I still see him in my dreams. They are nightmares mostly, but nightmares tinged with love. Such is the strangeness of the human heart. I still cannot understand how he could abandon me so unceremoniously without any sort of goodbye, without looking back even once."

Yann Martel, Life of Pi

Maybe it's a bit dramatic. I mean, we only knew each other for a total of two months. But seeing someone every day for eight hours during two months? That's a lot of time. There were a lot of conversations. And now... 

There are moments when I want to call him and see if he'd go out with me again. But then I realize that it's probably for the best. He had his chance. And now he lives 45 minutes away. There's nothing that tells me he'd be willing to make the effort. And so I'm trying a different approach than what I've done: I'm going to just let go.

And run away with a few friends to mourn the broken, empty part of me. 

Jane Austen once said, "What are men compared to rocks and mountains?" Of course, I'm taking it out of context, but it's my sentiment. I'm running away to the mountains and the lake. To be away from TV for a night and a day. And breathe. 

Maybe then I won't miss him anymore.

And maybe... just maybe... I can find another good story. One that ends a little happier than this one.

A girl can hope, right?

Wednesday Letters: New Bed, Old Bed

Dear New Bed,

I'm so excited for you to be shipped and to arrive here in the next couple of weeks.

I feel so excited. I'm graduating to my own bed. A queen sized bed. And you are beautiful:

I've dreamed about you for years (seriously... years). 

Just wait to see how I dress you up.

Dear Old Bed,

You're a twin. 

You just don't make the cut anymore.

But we've had a good run. A really good run.

I'll miss you.

I don't think you'll miss me. Not with my whining and my tears that seemed to come every night.

I'll give you a good home. I promise.

Love,

Emery

Sunburns

Is it really Monday?

Of course it is.

And yes... my face is bright red. You can't see it because I don't have a picture of it, but trust me when I say my forehead and my nose are red.

I got a sunburn on Saturday.

My favorite thing that all day people have been asking me, "Did you get some sun this weekend?"

I've started to say no and ask them what they mean. It throws them for a loop.

But being at a football game meant that it's been practically a week since I posted.

I love game day though:

 

 

I also really love football.

But really, I'm trying to just figure out which way to go:

Yes... this was on someone's house and was discovered on a walk with my friend.

Any suggestions?

Wednesday Letters: To the Decision Makers

Dear Decision Makers,

Really?

REALLY?

You had to move him?

Things were just getting good. Just ask anyone. They were enjoying the awkward moments, the teasing, etc. 

And now you're breaking it up. Before it even started. 

My mom says that maybe this is how it's supposed to happen. 

I, on the other hand, am trying hard not to lift an angry fist to you right now. 

It seems that kismet only takes you so far. But you couldn't let me experiment just a little longer?

Cordially,

Emery

Saturday Stories: The Library

Once upon a time...

I was a volunteer in the library. 

As I was trying to decide whether or not I should go into my masters program, I thought that a great way to get experience was to volunteer for four hours on Saturday.

Plus, my social life was pretty non-existent.

[source]

I would straighten the books on the shelves, and organize the books that needed to be re-shelved so that the library pages didn't have to do it. It was agonizing but I figured that everyone has to start somewhere.

One day, as I was straightening stacks, someone started to make a noise like "tsk, tsk". I ignored it as there were a lot of homeless people who seemed to wander around the library. But the voice was persistent and then I realized that it was a man, trying to get my attention. 

He asked what I was doing and if I worked there.

I told him that I was working toward my degree and I was just a volunteer.

He then told me I was pretty.

I focused on straightening the stacks. (Because I'm awkward like that and the only men who have ever told me I'm pretty are the ones who were drunk and trying to grope me on the subway). 

He asked for my number.

I hesitated. How do I give a man I've never even met my number? I mean... I know HOW... but WHY would I do that?

I gave it to him. And prayed that he'd never call. 

He never did.

Shortly after that incident, I had to stop working at the library. My schedule wouldn't allow for volunteering anymore. 

If I'm honest, I kind of miss getting picked up in the library.