The Blame Game and why I don't play

Alternate title: The one where Nat finally talks about Dating

For the most part, other than a few exceptions here and there (that I'll have to mentally catalog at some point in the not too distant future), I don't play the Blame Game. I can take ownership for how I'm feeling, how I'm behaving, and I can admit that I'm wrong. Or that I'm unreasonable. (Or that I don't stand too close to black lights because my front teeth are capped and it's mortifying to have them glow in the dark brighter than the others.)

I've noticed an alarming trend in both real and fake Facebook life. It seems that everyone is blaming everyone for everything. E v e r y t h i n g. I don't even have to give you outlandish examples because chances are good you've seen them on your own. Have you noticed it? Are you as bothered about it as I am? Or am I noticing all the red cars on the road after I too purchase a red car?

In the last few weeks, there's been an inordinate amount of dating and relationship blame game happening on Facebook; some of it no-doubt prompted by some of the talks given at a General Conference my church has twice a year. What a disaster. Rarely, if ever (and if by ever do I really mean never) do I discuss dating here. Well surprise! I'm 9 days from my 5-year blogavversary and I finally have something to say. Raise your hand if you agree with me. Or leaving me a scathing comment if you don't. But I can't handle it one second longer.

Love is a miracle. The hows, whys, and whens about two people loving each other the same unconditional amount to settle down and commit to each other for eternity--well boy howdy, I don't think that's something you can manufacture. (Ignore the nuances between can and should for the sake of my argument.) I'm over the hump of feeling sad I'm not married and so grateful that some of my closest friends, and sisters, and parents, and people I use to go to church with, and classmates, and swing bandmates (another story for another day), and host of ex-roommates, and sister-cousins, and Boston friends, and Arizona, Utah, and Oregon friends and my friends' parents... how grateful I am that they've all experienced a miracle! BECAUSE OH MY GOSH IT WILL BE A MIRACLE WHEN IT HAPPENS FOR ME TOO.

You see, I'm what I like to consider a niche person. If the population of people represent a bell curve, I'd most definitely lie closer to an outlier position. (+4 standard deviations! and there ends my statistics knowledge.) It doesn't mean there aren't other people like me in the world, it just means there are less of me. And here's a fun fact into a world I never crack open on this blog--when it comes to men, I either immediately connect and we hit the ground running and we never stop talking and ohmygosh the banter goes back and forth and we're basically living the version of what would happen if Aaron Sorkin ever decided to write a Romantic Comedy. Or we don't hit it off and Welcome to Friend Zone and I'm not too broken up over it.

These revelations shouldn't completely surprise you as I've nattered on for five years about next to nothing--and it's either your type of writing or it's not. (Congratulations readers, if any of you were dudes, we mighta almost had it all. And married dude readers, you missed this catch but CONGRATS ON YOUR MIRACLE.) So, in a very long-winded round-about multi-hyphenated way, I'm saying I don't blame anyone for me not being married yet. I don't blame the men of the Church, the men of the world, and I definitely don't blame myself. So I've had it with the Blame Game. Can't we all just accept that you/I/insertSingleAnyoneHere haven't met the right one yet?

I, like many of my readers, and friends, know the state of the single state. It's not much different here in Boston than in California, or Utah, or anywhere else as an active Mormon. There's no silver bullet destination for optimal miracle cultivation. You just wait, and live your life, and love who you are and do fun stuff. I mean, that doesn't sound so bad, right? You enjoy your job, and you watch some TV and read some books, and stamp your passport, and work on ironing out the kinks in you for awhile. You make, cultivate and curate meaningful relationships. You wait, hope for, and continue to believe in miracles.

Am I being naive about this? Married ladies, let's hear it. How much about your marriage had to do with what you were doing to lure him in? How much was it that you just ::cliche alert!:: clicked? Singles, I'm hosting a Royal Brunch for the Royal Wedding in two weeks. Consider joining me, because I do nichey things when left to my own devices. Believe in miracles!

On... (Q1 Edition)

... my biggest winter accomplishment
The race for this one was almost too close to call. Would my record level of sweatfall take the cake? My setting of a hefty savings goal and not only meeting but surpassing it month to month? Close to all mentioned, but the award actually goes to my surviving the winter without buying another coat. I love coats. Love them. Growing up means realizing you already have coats in black, brown, grey, cream, teal, blue and in a variety of lengths. This time of the year is the danger zone though -- as winter wear is making its way through the sale and clearance sections...

... a Super Tuesday workout
Because Zumba (cardio latin jazzercise) has morphed into this phenomenon at the gym we attend, there's a new ticketing system. Tickets (35) are handed out 30-minutes before the class starts and they go fast. Tuesday night is the hour class and it's a hot ticket (tickets were gone in eleven minutes). In order to assure we were in the class, Linda and I went to the gym ridiculously early, so I spent 35 minutes on the bike before the real sweat-a-thon even began. What'd I spend my time reading? Oh yah, still working through the Count of Monte Cristo. I basically did bicep curls while riding. I only wish I could video that class to show you how much fun we have.

... dancing for your life
Four of us made it into last night's Zumba class, and as previously mentioned, the class is incredibly tough, fun, and exhausting. On the last song (our favorite, to Pitbull's "Crazy"), someone in our group challenged us all to "Dance for your life". If you're not a SYTYCD watcher, this allusion is lost on you. If you are, the real life application was hilariously amazing and I couldn't quit laughing.

... sisterly in-tune-ness
This chat started happening the second I finished the ... blurb above.
Love that I'm evangelizing the things I love. I've made FNL converts, maybe it's time to become a Zumba convert? If you attend a gym, see if they have classes. You won't be sorry.

... the best feeling in the world
Watching the Biggest Loser and not feeling guilty for sitting on the couch.

... the Oscars
I attended my first start-to-finish Academy Awards party Sunday night and had a great time. I usually have a hard time finding people who love awards shows as much as I do. In this case, I found someone who loves it more than I do, so this year's grand event was spent dining on movie-themed snacks and going head-to-head in the ballot prediction. I four-way tied for first (gahhh, I knew I should have changed Best Picture to "Hurt Locker" since I voted for it in every.other. category. and then I would have sole claim to the title) and walked away with a very excellent prize--the movie "Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2." Someone want to remind me of the year that movie was nominated? It's slipping my mind.
... a hilarious blog you should be reading
You won't be sorry. And these three brothers blog on a regular schedule unlike the rest of the blogging world (::cough:cough::). A new goodie for you every day! The social commentary bits are my favorite, but each writer has a way of telling stories that reminds me I'll never be ready to hit the next level of blog-ability. Don't miss the comments either! Seriously, brilliant. Add it to your reader. DontDoDumbThings.com
Though Davis (husband of Melissa) is my favorite author over there, my favorite moment of reading goes to his brother Christian's memory post about a somewhat black-sheep family on his block growing up--who somehow found the post and then commented all about it. The world is too, too small of a place and too, too funny to explain. If you're like me, you're looking for good blogs. Run there.

... current obsessions
Cheez-it crackers, ponytails without parts, black cashmere gloves, straight hair, my savings account balance, open/honest/direct communication, video-chatting, printing work emails and marking them up with colored pen, anticipating Spring, wanting to see movies and never following through.

On... (part cuatro)

... bringing back the 80's
Client in the sink next to mine: "People actually still get perms?"
Her hair washer: "It actually looks pretty good. Sometimes people with thin or limp hair get them.
Me: I'm sitting right here, I can clearly hear you.

... family friendly television
When my parents were here a few weeks ago, they talked Linda and I into watching "White Collar", a new show on USA, with them. Holy buckets, this show is great! I caught up on Hulu last night, and the show genuinely makes me laugh. It doesn't try too hard to be funny or dramatic, or to push the envelope; and it's supremely well acted. What's it about? I could try to explain it, but I'd rather let the site dedicated and developed to the show tell the story. It's basically crime solving heists, now with more Tiffani Amber Theissen! (There are only four episodes to date, catch up on Hulu!)

... word fun
I decided my favorite word is "extravaganza." Every event, trip, or party I plan typically has extravaganza added to the official title--because it's fun! And all those a's roll so beautifully together! I posted these same sentiments to facebook and was returned a handful of other words who make good use of a's : organza, guadalajara, catamaran, lava lava, Walla Walla, etc. Any others we've missed?

... tasks of adulthood
This week I participated in quite a few tasks that made me feel like maybe I am on may way to adulthood. I chose an auto body shop to reconnect my bumper and replace a smashed light. I went luggage shopping. I opened an online brokerage account and started buying bonds and notes and other stuffs. I bought an outfit for a fancy awards event I have to attend next week (Zipcar is nominated, woot!). I had a giant metal rod shoved into my ear canal and didn't cry.

On...

Creativity
Once upon a time, I used to keep up to date on a pretty creative little blog. I told stories, waxed anecdotal, drew pictures, wrote satirical poems, and posted photos of weird things (like my hands). My posting has suffered the last few months (years?); I feel overwhelmed at trying to jump back into the fray. (To be honest, I don't feel very funny or creative any more.)

But, I've been putting my creativity to use other places! Out in the real world! No words involved!And now! Behold! A picture display! (and some necessary commentary...)

1. The night before the 3rd of July, our trip to the Drive-In movie was rained out. Instead, we had the first annual Wonders of the World Rice Krispy Treat Sculpting Extravaganza. The creativity of my friends is outstanding. My favorite was the fast food hamburger meal, but the TMNT, King Kong climbing the Empire State Building, the octopus, and the various dinosaurs put my unintentional and possibly racist Michael Jackson tribute to shame.

2. Helped create this "Saved by the Bell" class pose.

3. Helped style these two brides. Two besties, two weddings, two weekends. I just couldn't be happier for either or more in platonic love with their respective husbands. How sweet to be in the bride's room helping zip or lace. My uber-talented sister Alaina took both of their photos. Julie and Greg here. Kendall and Josh here.

4. Someone thought I knew how to arrange flowers, so I tried my hand. Ju's bouquet, boutonnieres (22!), and centerpieces (9).



4. Shark Week party! I love theme parties, so how could I resist? (PS--does anyone need arm floaties? I've got a dozen.)

5. And last, the crowning glory... the 220 cupcakes I made for Kendall's reception. My 12+ hour piece of the puzzle seemed like an eternity, I can't imagine how many hours it took my mom to throw a world-class reception in our backyard. My darling cousin Rachel was my sous-chef; Mallory took a quick turn for one batch. We made three kinds of cupcakes, a cinnamon roll inspired with cream cheese frosting, coconut, and chocolate ganache on a chocolate cake. They were by far the nicest cupcakes I've done, but I don't think I'll be quitting my day job any time soon. So there you go. A reminder to myself as much as to anyone, that I can create in ways other than blogs no one people are reading.

On... Second Edition

...living vicariously through me:

* The week before a big move is the week you should be hap-hap-happy you're you and not me.

* The aforementioned sunburned forehead, lips, and face are another reason you should be hap-hap-happy you're you and not me.

* Don't get me wrong, it's great to be me, I just want you to be happy being you. Because I like you. That's why we're friends. Lurker or not.

... "A Walk to Remember":

* A rogue copy appeared in the house-gutting. Sick from the packing, I bunkered down to enjoy an evening of light, romantic "is-it-pro-Christian-or-not" dramadey.

* This movie is cheesy. The lines are cheesy, the acting is cheesy, the facial expressions are Whole Foods organic cheesy. Shane West is officially the worst on-screen crier ever.

* It just doesn't matter. I actually shed two tears. One when Shane broke down in the car, and the other when Mandy walked down the aisle. Remember how she was only cute when the pulled her bangs to the side? I haven't cried in movie since I bawled watching Little Women on Demand.
* I honestly cannot remember who I was with when I first saw this movie. I think it came out my first year at BYU (the soundtrack places the date), but I'm having a brain block--that doesn't happen very often!
* Shane was listening to a discman. How far we've come in the last 8 years.

... a roof with a view:

* Some friends moved into this crazy posh apartment complex on the Cambridge-side of the Charles. Through no illegal action, said occupants found a way onto the facility's roof.

* Journey to the top includes 22-flights in an elevator, an indoor ladder to an unpadlocked hatch, and voila! Unguarded, unfenced roof access.

* Treacherous or not (and it wasn't, the roof is large enough to avoid getting close to the edge), the views of the city were a.maz.ing. Seriously, can't be replicated. I'll never look at that building the same. It will be a sad day when the gate is padlocked as it probably should be.

...the ()lympics:

* I got my life back. How I'll miss the nightly coverage. I did shed a tear last night during the credits-rolling highlight reel after the Closing Ceremonies last night.

* I love that for two weeks I became an expert on all kinds of sports I won't give a hoot about during the next 3.92 years. I know the rules, I know the game's history, I know the athletes and their stories. Some of my favorite stories included:

........the 33-year-old gymnast who left the old Russian bloc to seek treatment in Germany for her son w/ cancer, the guy who began swimming after he almost drown, the French swimmer who left her country to date a swimmer in Italy only to lose her Italian nationality and her boyfriend to an arch swimming rival, Shawn Johnson carved into butter, the Redeem Team, Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael, Michael (did I spell that right? it looks so wrong now), the US Men winning indoor volleyball gold for the coach whose parents-in-law were stabbed (one killed) the night of the opening ceremony, Misty May and Karrie Walsh winning the gold but now wanting to give up volleyball to have families, and a host of other stories I'll bury deep inside until 2012.

* Maybe working the 2010 Vancouver Games? NEver too late to start thinking. I did get the chills during the preview spot.

* Give Bob Costas a vacation!

Well friends. I'm really shocked it's been so long since I blogged last. I was in Portland for a week and between my good friends the 29th Olympiad and my fam-damily; I kept busy. But for tonight I bid adieu. I'm sitting in a room half stripped of it's wall-hangings (plaster holes gaping), 88% of the clothing bagged and boxed, and ready to go. Seven more sleeps....

On...

Dressing for success: I'm a jeans girl. I live and breathe denim. I breathe trouser-cut, boot-cut, slim fit, dressy, casual... they each have their time and place. My office has no formal dress-code, but the majority of employees dress business casual. Any given day however, 30 percent of employees are wearing jeans. Though it seems I could wear jeans every day and it not be too much of an issue, I try to wear non-denim dress pants twice a week. Last week, in the dim light of dawn, I threw on a pair of camel-colored corduroy trousers. You might have thought my first mistake was wearing camel-colored anything. Half a point. Full points to anyone who has also experienced the most self-esteem effecting textile in history. Every ear on my floor could hear me coming.

The Writer's Strike: I'm beginning to make irrational decision with my DVR. Now that the everlasting strike has halted production on all but a smattering of my favorite shows (bless FNL for having five, count 'em five, episodes left), I'm making hasty and questionable recording decisions. Do you hear me four episodes of Saved by the Bell? True Hollywood Story : Mean Girls? America's Next Top Model has been on MTV nonstop for six days now. I maybe recorded all of Cycle 2 and just finished watching. Drat that Eva. Before you know it I'll be recording reruns of Family Matters and Antique Roadshow.

Eating healthy: How trashy is it to love a Lean Pocket? It's not very classy, that's for sure. In an effort to detox post-holidays, I've been sustaining myself with fresh produce and frozen entrees. God bless Lean Cusines--heaven knows I'd never cook something so "elaborate" for myself. The frozen meal extravaganza has confirmed that I'll eat anything cheesy with marinara sauce.

To-Do Lists: After avoiding all adult responsibilities for the last few months, I've compiled my most daunting To Do ASAP list in history. Some items are easy 10-minuters. Some are exceptionally complicated. Some are costly. (Sounds like I'm describing relationships, huh?) Unfortunately, all are well past due and need immediate attention. Here's the short list: get a passport, buy a bus pass, decide on car insurance, meet with the agent in person, get the sign of approval, go to DMV and get car registered in Mass, get a Mass. license, call insurance and figure out vision insurance, schedule/attend eye appointment, order contacts, pay December bills, budget January bills, get front axle in car fixed, get cash, and kick the stuffy, congested face I picked up this morning. Phew. Being an adult is awesome.

Contract Work: My division was sold in early December to another company. The Feds are going to investigate the legalities for 4-6 months and then chances are exceptionally high I'm going to lose my job. I'm not super stressed because I don't love the highly technical aspect of what I'm doing--I'd like to get back to my project management roots; that's where I excel. My big idea is to have enough money saved that as soon as the axe falls I'm ready to take a trip. Overseas. Not sure where, but I'm planning to do something last minute and take advantage of the time I'll have. I'm hoping someone wants to quit their job and run away for a short time. Any takers?

White noise: This summer I owned an AC unit. Believing it was too heavy to move 20-feet, I left it on the sunporch instead of ever installing it. I sweltered through the heat of a Northeastern summer with a $9 box fan from Target. Somewhere along the way the fan stopped actually blowing air. It still makes a heck of a lot of noise though, that's for sure. It became habit to turn the fan on (I'm pretty sure it didn't work for months and I didn't notice), and I still do to this day. I've found that I like the noise--it's comforting and drowns out the radiator. (Side note: very few things make me as irrationally angry as the pops and hissing of my radiator. I get SO mad; it kind of cracks me up.) I love my white noise maker.

Being clever: I had a really interesting discussion yesterday with someone I adore. We were talking about the power of words, and the impact they have. It seems there's a huge desire to be clever these days--but clever so often crosses into mean. For a lot of people, being clever comes at the cost of kindness. It might be funny, but it doesn't mean it's nice. It was a good reminder for me. I apologize to any or all if I've overstepped the line at anytime.

Words I can't spell: license, unfortunately, responsibility, consciously