snail mail fail

i didn't get any mail today. again. for the second time THIS WEEK. very sad. i love mail. even more than i love email, and trust me, email is my greatest companion these days. no matter what i'm doing, rest assured that there will be a computer, with functioning internet capabilities nearby. so that i can reward myself every time i accomplish something. finish a paragraph in my book? check email. finish a homework problem? check email. eat a piece of toast? check email. it's really a pretty fabulous system. i can respond to almost any email within 30 minutes, thereby increasing the number of emails that i will receive. and, occasionally, i can catch someone while they're still emailing, and write back and forth, back and forth. not quite as quick as im, but way more fun. i had a full 30-minute conversation with my missionary sister this way. which almost made up for the fact that i spent 70% of our christmas phone conversation convincing her i was not marrying two men whom i'm not even dating. almost.

but back to my dilemma. snail mail. nobody uses it anymore! what with all of the e-cards, e-mail, e-vites, e-bills, there's really no need to actually send a piece of paper to anyone. but i still check every day, just in case. because you never know when someone might come through for me.

i'm getting married!

well, that's what my family thinks anyway. According to my mom, this is my year. She just knows it. Who she thinks I'm going to marry is beyond me. But it's going to happen. Next Christmas, to be exact. And I spent 7 minutes of my ten-minute Christmas phone conversation convincing my missionary sister that yes, I remember I pinky swore that I wouldn't get married while she was gone, and no, I am not going to marry ______ or ______, so she need not worry. She should have known that if she had to ask about two separate men, I couldn't possibly be serious enough with either one to justify marriage. I know I'm a total sucker when it comes to charm and romance, but I'm not that dumb.

Now, I'm not one to get really excited about the bouquet toss at weddings. Well, I pretend not to, anyway. Although secretly, it's my absolute favorite part of most receptions. So, at last month's wedding, I fulfilled my obligation as a single woman and stood in the crowd of girls all prepared to claw each other for the chance to grab at the much-coveted bouquet. I had already made a complete and total fool of myself with my Napoleon Dynamite-style dance routine (which, by the way, left my entire family in tears from uncontrollable laughter, and earned me $15 from my brother-in-law, who didn't think I'd have the guts to put on such a performance.) So I stood on the periphery of the group, prepared to watch everyone else make a fool of themselves. My mom had other plans. She cheered from the sidelines and coached the bride to ensure that I would be the one to catch the bouquet. It worked. The flowers hit me right smack in the face. Hard. Who knew a bundle of plants could be so heavy?

So, you're all invited to my wedding next December. Potential grooms should send in their resume as soon as possible.

who knew...

that scarves were actually functional. I always thought they were purely for fashion. I also thought (very mistakenly) that I could survive without a coat if I didn't have one that went well with my outfit. I never in my life thought that warmth could ever win out over style. Don't I feel dumb.

Church was cancelled yesterday because of snow. SNOW! And below-zero-degree weather. I think I might die.

she laughed at me

I accidentally left my (pink) purse in my class today. My (male) professor very kindly carried my (pink) purse to the aerospace engineering office to leave, safely guarded, in the hands of the receptionist until I picked it up. I walked in, smiled kindly at the receptionist lady, and asked if I could please have my purse back.

her: Um, could you identify it for me?
me: Sure! It's pink.
her: (with a smirk) haha! it sure is.

Haha? Now, was that really necessary? I probably should have told this woman that my purse was black, since pink is the new black (or so says the rumor). But that would have just confused her, and then she never would have given me my purse, despite the fact that it had my drivers license with my picture in it. Now, I'm not seriously upset with receptionist lady. She's not exactly young and hip, so it's not her fault she hadn't heard the rumor that pink is the new black. Add, admittedly, the purse is very pink. Maybe even obnoxiously pink. But I love it nonetheless.

the countdown is on...

yup, that's right. only 24 days until my absolute favorite holiday... VALENTINES DAY! I mean, seriously, who could not love this holiday? It's a great excuse to wear pink (not that I never need an excuse to wear pink, but still...). And besides that, there's love in the air, so much joy and happiness floating around.

Now, lets get something straight here. I don't have a boyfriend, nor have I ever had a boyfriend with whom to share a romantic candle-lit dinner on this most beautiful of all days. But I still love February 14. In fact, I love it BECAUSE I'm single. I'm convinced that it just won't be the same after I'm married. I mean, since my husband is going to treat me like a princess every day, constantly buying me flowers for no reason, Valentine's day will no longer be anything special. (Hey, a girl can dream, right?) So I'm enjoying them while I'm young and free. Because the real beauty of valentines day is not having somebody who loves you, but rather the possibility that you have a secret admirer out there somewhere. It's the anticipation I love.

Here's how a typical Valentines day goes for me:

1 week prior: mail valentines cards to all of my friends. be sure to include a comment about valentines day being my favorite holiday. this way, friends will still have time to send me a valentines card, resulting in a feeling of warm fuzziness.

5:00 am: wake up and check outside my door to see if my potential secret admirer has left a rose for me. because all good secret admirers know to leave the rose late the night before, so that admired girl will find it waiting for her when she wakes up.

5:05 am: go back to sleep until 11:00, then check again. because, although all really good secret admirers know to leave the rose the night before, sometimes there are holdups. and, yes, sleeping until 11:00 is necessary. that leaves secret admirer plenty of time to rush to a flower shop, find the perfect flower, and deliver it to my doorstep.

2:00 pm: check the mail. maybe said secret admirer has slipped the note in my mailbox. or maybe i have a long-distance admirer. find instead a package from my mom, which includes a very cute new outfit, candy, and a pink stuffed poodle.

6:00 pm: dinner with friends. make sure the porch light is off, just in case secret admirer is trying to deliver secret note and flowers while i'm not home.

6:30 pm: check door again, just in case secret admirer is a little late. hey, i'm not picky.

8:00 pm: try on new outfit from mom, call her to thank her for the gift, and make a paper chain counting down the days until next year's best day of the year.


Now, there are some strict rules for an ideal valentines day.
rule #1: Secret admirer is not allowed to reveal his identity, thus leaving me with a glimmer of hope that said secret admirer is my latest crush. (exception: if secret admirer actually is my latest crush, he is then allowed to reveal his true identity and confess his undying love for me.)

okay, so maybe there's only one rule that really needs to be followed. but it's an important one, that's for sure. Have you made your paper chain yet?

dreaming to life

Okay, there's something I have to admit. I'm always daydreaming. Even while I'm sitting in class, doing a great job of pretending to pay attention, writing down everything the professor says, I'm daydreaming. Replaying in my mind past events, imagining upcoming meetings and future encounters. But with all the daydreaming I've done in my life, I've never been able to dream in pictures. My thoughts always come as conversations, discussions, so I'm never alone. Ever. No matter how personal, how tragic, how emotionally invested my surmises, I'm always discussing them with a loved one, baring my soul to them. And hearing their response, feeling their comfort.

Maybe this is why I falter every time I try to talk about my emotions. Because I've reviewed over and over the response I want, so I rarely get it. I forget that they're listening and caring, and that's good enough.