UP AGAIN! Dreaming of Tusks?

What is with me? It's not like I went to Thailand for a week and am jetlagged. No, no it's not that. But for some reason, for the past week, I have been going to sleep some time in the morning (5, 6, or 7 am) at times that I normally was waking up. No amount of dietary, exercise, or sleep change has been able to effect it yet. I think I will try not sleeping all day this morning and see if I'm tired enough to sleep through the night tomorrow. (One night, I successfully got to bed around 10pm, but then woke up helplessly at 1 a.m. I couldn't get back to bed until around 7 a.m.)

Anyone have any good suggestions to get over non-jetlag jetlag?

In other news, I've decided that the best soundtrack to an insomniac's night is Fleetwood Mac on shuffle. That group can wail. I mean, I was never their number one fan, but for some reason, the chemicals being released in my brain at this time of night mix well with "Tusk," "Everywhere," and "Sara." Look them up. It's goooood (in a 500-days-of-summer-elevator-scene kind of way).

No Tartar Sauce

Okay people, I am home for Christmas, and I just cooked myself up some delicious fish. I wanted to enjoy it with some tartar sauce--something I thought would be standard fare in any refrigerator. I always love coming home because of the amount of food constantly available at the house. But,

Turns out at my house we have
* more than five bottles of fresh salsa bottles written entirely in Spanish,
* a couple bottles of Italian sauces written exclusively in Italian,
* a jar of capers (which admittedly I snacked on during my hunt),
* a couple jars of green olives,
* three bottles of horseradish sauce,
* a couple containers of lime and lemon juice, among other "normal" condiments.

No Tartar sauce.

What is this, the end of days?

Selling Furniture/Moving Outta This Place!

I will accept the best offer for these items. I also have a floral print couch and a green papasan chair, both of which are not photographed, for free. Let me know!



7' Vintage couch with chair: $35 (comes with the large, matching chair below)



Large, comfortable matching chair (comes with set)




Tweed Chair $15



Dresser Drawers--Pottery Barn Style SOLD



Wood Desk (comes with a matching, cushioned chair not pictured) SOLD



Buffet $10



Book shelf: SOLD




Coffee Table SOLD

My Ex-s Have The Best Ex-s

Okay so I'm not going into details because it's too long and I don't have time. But what's been on my mind recently are all the girls I've met recently who have dated my ex-boyfriends. Can I just tell you...I count myself lucky to have been attractive to the same guys who get to date these wonderful ladies.

Too often I think women get really catty and jealous when confronted with their arch enemies. As one of my ex's can attest (as he signed onto my Facebook account and stalked my chat conversations long after we broke up), my favorite people in the world are not naturally inclined to be the females that used to date my favorite boys. But why not?

I mean, seriously. We at least have one thing in common--that we broke up with the guy. On top of that, the guy was attracted to something in us that probably made us similar. In each instance, I've bumped into my ex-boyfriend's ex's and have LOVED them. Seriously, they are the most remarkable women.

One of them remembered my name, what I was studying, and my future goals from meeting me a year ago when she dated my ex. Another one of them invited me to her wedding group on Facebook. Another one called me her friend and suggested that we are so much alike. In every single case where I've actually gotten to know them, I am blown away.

Who are my heroes? My ex-boyfriends' ex-girlfriends. Hands down.

PURE LOVE

For the purposes of an update, I'm now a band manager. I officially manage 5 different Provo bands from 3 different genres. And I go to law school. And I am a recruiter for BYU. And I work for the state's largest (and really only)entertainment law firm. And I seriously, seriously love my life. Like seriously. And just when I thought it could not get any better, I opened my email and found this:

href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPLMwI1wabE&feature=player_embedded">

Outta Control

Another deep post. Here goes...

In high school was the first time I learned that I had offended someone close to me. Our coach noticed that another Mormon girl didn't attend early morning seminary, so she was always able to make practice on time. He asked me about it and said, "Aren't all good Mormons supposed to go to seminary?" I answered, "No. The only thing is probably that you have a little harder time getting into BYU if you don't."

Somehow my coach thought it would be funny to go up to this other Mormon girl (who was in my ward and my Laurel's class with me) and say, "Sara said you're not a good Mormon because you don't attend seminary."

You can see how 1) this was completely not what I said, and 2) how that would be completely offensive to the person to whom it was directed. After the damage was done, I tried to repair it by explaining to my coach that that wasn't a funny joke and that he needed to apologize to this girl and let her know that I actually did not say that.

Too late. You know those moments when you just get wedged into your head one idea and hardly anything will change your mind on it? Yeah, I think this is what happened to this girl. She never talked to me again. Ok I take that back. I think I saw her at the temple once right before my mission and she was there for a wedding. I think I got a "Hello."


So this event had a huge, huge impact on my life. See, for weeks, months, and arguably YEARS later, I tried to repair this damage that I felt like I didn't really cause. I saw the hurt, and I saw how valid she was in thinking that it emanated from me. I seriously tried everything: service, cute notes, going through mutual friends, treats, everything. For the first time in my life, I felt like a total utter failure.

But I learned one thing about relationships: SOME THINGS ARE OUT OF YOUR CONTROL. And when you come across one of those situations, there's really a two-step process: 1) You do everything in your power at the time to remedy the situation, and 2) You let it go and respect their agency.

I have been repeatedly reminded of this principle over and over again the last three month with many different people. Perhaps that shows my weakness--that I cannot solve my own problems effectively. But you know what? It is what it is. I am me, and I am trying my best and sometimes my best isn't good enough for people.

So for all you whom I have offended, again and again for the rest of my life and forever, I am deeply sorry and would gladly do anything else to try to repair it if I actually knew what more would help. And the fact that I have stopped trying is a sign that I feel there's nothing more I can do and I am on to step 2: I just have to let it go.

I'll wait forever for the other person to use their agency to forgive, forget, and let go of their feelings and be cool with me. But I think I should give them their space and allow them to do that at their own pace and not try to force them to be cool with it.

Seriously, this has been one of the hardest things to learn. I really do love people--I love all people. I guess I just haven't mastered perfectly how to show my love individually. Any ideas or insight is always welcome.

Love, Sara

When To Hold and When To Fold

How much worth is it to invest everything in a friendship, at the expense of other relationships, money, sleep, and principles?

Doesn't Jesus say that it's the second great commandment--to love our neighbors as ourselves? So how can I best fulfill this commandment? Any answers? Hypothetically speaking of course.

Flirting with admissions...Texas style

So apparently I got busy last week (go figure) and wasn't able to finish--or even continue--my series on past boyfriends. For another day and time, folks. Until then, I'll tell you that I've been thinking a lot lately about when I applied for college. I just got a job as a high school recruiter for BYU, and I'm remembering all I went through to apply and select a school.

One thing I was particularly proud of was my admission essay. I remembered advice given to me by my senior English teacher, Ms. Brown, when she told us to make our essays creative and memorable. I took that advice very seriously. So for my 200-word essay on how I prepared to come to BYU, this is what I wrote:

Here in Texas, everything is big; molehills are mountains, drizzles are floods. If something must happen, it happens in extremes. And so it happened that this southern belle prepared herself extremely for the demands of higher education.

Mere participation in fine arts escalated into a mountain when I made competitive region orchestra and region drama. I also received the highest honors in speech and violin for various tournaments.

Serving as laurel president and leader in stake youth council, I elevated my Y-Mount into Mount Everest. I composed music for beehives to play in church. I went with missionaries to help activate youth in a ward. Writing the stake's New Beginnings program added snow to my summit. Remembering I must build others' mountains as well, I devoted last summer to tutoring children in math and reading.

My academics were no Carolina creek, either. I drenched the embankments of a high school education with participation in AP classes and National Honor Society. This, combined with my leadership roles in school and service organizations kept my Rio Grande flowing.

I have filled my Texas taco with the meat of the gospel and the flavorings of arts and rigorous academics. Doesn't it look tasty?

What do you think? I'm still so proud of it, although it's extremely juvenile. Looking back, it seems risky that I would write something so flippant. But I got in, so...

Dating Lesson Number 1

You know when they say that before you die, you see your life flash before your eyes? Lately my mind has been flooded by the lessons learned from past relationships. You could say it’s flashing before my eyes. Hopefully that’s a sign that my single life is soon to be over.

But in honor of my recent flashbacks, and due to the fact that I found out some friends need their frequent rule19 fix, I’m going to start blogging more diligently again. I will be blogging about the lessons learned from past relationships. I feel like I've changed and become better with each one. Hopefully that's true.

Now as I speak about past relationships, I don’t want anyone to feel defamed. So some names have been changed where appropriate. When it’s not appropriate (such as the guy will never read this blog, I kind of want to use actual names; you know…to keep it real.) I also want to make it entertaining so I'm going to diligently reflect on each relationship and compare my relationship with a character in popular culture, mostly from TV or movies.

So here we go with installment one: first boyfriend, Sam.

With Sam, I was April from Parks and Recreation.



Why April? Because she likes to create drama. She dates a boy who is sometimes gay, who also has a boyfriend who's always gay. If things weren't so weird, she probably wouldn't be involved in this relationship.

So Dating Lesson Number One: Relationships are more fun when you can have them without drama.

I met Sam in my high school video tech class. He was the class clown. He was also extremely smart. So right when I first started dating, I knew generally what I was attracted to (funny genius boys). But what I loved most about Sam was that he was Jewish. I thought it would create a stir. I was the stereotypical "Mormon girl" in my school and I thought it would create a buzz if we started dating. We started dating around Christmas time (or Hanukkah I guess) when school was almost out so we didn't have time for people to see that we were dating. When we came back from break, I tried to spread it around in a very controversial way--spread my own salacious rumor about my own relationship.

Unfortunately for Sam it didn't work. People kind of thought it was weird but when they'd ask, "Isn't that against your religion?" I didn't want people to get false doctrine so I used the opportunity to talk about temple marriage but also tell me it's fine to date whomever. No drama.

So then I tried to create drama using my power position in the school. For 90-minutes every other day, I was an administrative assistant in the principal's office. Frequently I would use the pink hall passes (I was able to get people out of class with them to come to the principal's office) to get Sam out of class. We'd find an empty room and just chill for the period. After once getting caught from my speech teacher (who held in his hand the power to revoke me from the traveling team), I decided the drama wasn't worth it. Little Sammy and I only lasted a month.

He's now got himself a hot Jewish girlfriend, a bachelor's from University of Texas and a stable job at Microsoft in Seattle.

Stay tuned tomorrow when we examine Brandon, who filled my desire to date a jock...and subsequently helped me learn why I hate that.

Oh Danny Boy

Most people have bad things to say about their ex-boyfriends/girlfriends. For Daniel, I tried and tried and tried to think of something bad. I got nothing.



Daniel's a first-year law student at the top of his class at Arizona State. We met when I was a first-year law student at BYU and he was applying to schools. Same ward. His minor was my undergrad major. His political ideals matched my dads. We're both Texans. We're both outspoken. He's close to--or one of my--or I hope he doesn't read this blog and think I'm sappy or lame for saying this because I'm supposed to be unemotional --maybe my best guy friend. Just super chill. A great influence. All around great guy.

This is Daniel seducing a goat, the day after my birthday (2008); the day before we got together...officially?



He's in town this week for spring break. If this were Facebook, I would "like" this.

Anal Girl?

Call me crazy, but is it weird for me to find a text on my boyfriend's phone to another girl telling her that he loves her?

Sure, yeah. Maybe he loves her platonically.

But is it weird if he hasn't ever told me that he loves me? And he's known both of us just as long?

You know, I guess he's right when he tells me girls just like to create lots of drama.

The Sickest Week Ever Part 2

It all started out innocently enough. My sister and I bought tickets to the Fun. concert about a month ago and had been patiently awaiting their San Antonio show. I flew in for the occasion because, let's face it: seeing them once just isn't enough.

So that morning, I went running, played some music, and did many things to get my mind off the auditory awesomeness that would shortly ensue. At one point, I decided the “I Love Fun” shirt I painted a week before was just too plain. So I sifted through every lyric of all their songs to find the perfect one to immortalize on my chest. Somehow when I was painting it, the phrase “shake me down” did not seem as inappropriate as when I flaunted it in a notoriously sketchy part of town late at night. So two hours later, with the help of my niece and nephew, I had myself a shirt I could never wear again—not even to the gym.

It was time to go, so Emily and I hopped in the car and bopped to Fun. music the entire car ride. Because I had met the band’s keyboardist when they came through Salt Lake City, I asked Emily what she thought if I gave the keyboardist my phone number. Emily and I joked that somehow rock stars who get chicks’ numbers at concerts are not expecting what I’m wanting—slurping a Sonic slush and playing a good game of cosmic bowling. So I thought, “Well why don’t I just make my intentions clear?” I began to write this note on scrap paper my sister had available:

The concert was great, if by great I mean being the only two twenty-somethings in a sweaty pen of hormonal high schoolers. Next time I might just stay home and watch them on Austin City Limits. As we started to leave, though, we asked a venue employee to take our picture. When it became apparent that the band wasn’t coming out to sign autographs, we asked this employee if he had backstage access. He said yes. I told him about my encounter with the keyboardist in Salt Lake and how I had written him a note. The employee agreed to deliver my note. But because this kid was pushing sixteen and my note was somewhat juvenile, I doubted it would ever get passed the chuckles of his group of friends.

Oh well. I went to bed. But then things got a little crazy. The next day as I was taking a nap, I got a call from a Chicago number. I normally don’t answer if I don’t know who’s calling me but somehow I suspected who the caller was. It was the keyboardist! Yep, he had called.

But of course nothing came of it. It turns out he’s more of a Wendy’s frosty kind of guy.


P.S.--This was my feeble attempt to cover up the double meaning screaming off my shirt.

I'm still waiting for my Sonic-loving stud.

The Sickest Week Ever Part 1

I'm using sick in the California sense. (I will never forget the first time my surf-loving bleach-blond Californian partner in advertising class used "sick" to describe our project. I was offended. I should've been proud.)

But back to the real news. Man has the past week been killer. The best yet. It started Tuesday, February 9 when I woke up at 5 a.m. with great anticipation of the Fun. concert that was to happen that night. Sure, a handful of my friends canceled on me at the last minute, but that didn't matter. I could rock out with Nate-dogg by myself. Well my friend Sister Peterson and her roommate graced me with their presence once I was up in Salt Lake. Although her roommate was there to see Jack's Mannequin (6 out of 10 stars), they came so I didn't look like an idiot 26-year-old law student head banging in the middle of pre-pubescent teenagers in midriffs who had been dropped off by their mothers.

Funny moments of this night:

1. I hadn't been to In the Venue since before my mission so I was a little rusty on directions. I turned a corner and saw a line of really sketchy characters. Thinking it was the line to get in, I immediately parked and prayed I wouldn't get hurt. When I got there, I realized they were all homeless people waiting in line at a shelter. I walked another three blocks to the actual venue. And like a scared little girl, found two girls walking to the concert and started chatting them up so I didn't have to walk alone.

2. This was the first time I had seen Sister Peterson since her mission. She was a missionary in my parents ward when I returned home from my mission. Later she was the missionary in the singles ward that I attended once I decided to interact with the opposite sex. So the only interaction Sister Peterson andIi had had was to and from gospel lessons. Sure, we may have gotten side tracked talking about Band of Horses and other super great indie bands, but still...seeing Sister Peterson in real clothes and me screaming "I'm not a prophet but I'm here to profit" at the top of my lungs made me about 25 percent self-conscious.

3. The whole crowd was getting anxious between the opening act (Vedera) and Fun. I had a sneaky feeling a lot of people were there to see Fun., so I decided to take matters into my own hands. I was going to start a chant. I tapped the 15-year old boy in front of me and asked who he and his five other high school friends were here to see. "We're here to see Fun.," they answered." I then told them that I was going to start a chant to encourage Fun. up on the stage faster.

"At the count of three, yell 'we want fun.' One, two, three." We all started to chant. It was a little uncomfortable at first. I hate leading without followers, but as soon as I saw that it wasn't going to be a total bust I continued onward. Shortly thereafter, guess who appeared on stage? Yes. Fun. Fun, right?


I'm a horrible photographer but even I can tell that this picture is super sweet. Look, I got Nate singing--twice--in the same picture. Yes, I posted this picture.

Here's Sister Peterson, her roommate, and me all having a great time at the concerto.


But the most fun of the evening came when I went to get an autograph. I went over and saw the keyboardist from Fun and other weirdos I didn't recognize signing all the teeny bopper paraphernalia. I waited awhile because I figured I was too old, cool, and smart to wait in a line. But when I saw the line wasn't dying down, I just jumped right up to the front and said, "Hey Andrew." The keyboardist looked at me as if to find a long lost friend. What stood in front of him? The woman of his dreams:



We chatted for a bit, I complimented him on his left-handedness, and he cheekily signed my shoe:

Yep. He drew a cat. And when I put down my shoe, he said, "No wait! I need to add whiskers!" You can whisker me any day, Andrew.

Fast forward a few days...

The J. Reuben Clark Law Society took place in Salt Lake this year so I took advantage. Afterward I hiked Ensign Peak with a favorite mission companion, Kim-Dizzle. We somehow forgot that it was February and it had been snowing so the pathway up to the peak was inches deep in delicious mudcakes. By the time we got down, our shoes had more foliage on them than the mountain. This is my beautiful mud shoe companion and me at the summit:



The next day I jumped plane to Texas where my sisters had planned a Girl's Day Out at the lakehouse in honor of my arrival (and singledom) for Valentine's Day. Some of the pictures are for our eyes only but others are too cute to leave to just Payne-girl knowledge. Here are some of my favs.

Homemade lunch in the ivy-kissed gazebo. That's right. I called it that.


What are we, in high school?


The obligatory jumping picture...always a crowd pleaser. (We love: My glasses, Emily's mouse ears, Sherrie's expression, and Maria's hand.)


Sherrie wanted this one, but then called me out on stealing the show. Typical. I can't help my good genes.


Then Maria made these trans fat-dipped, delicious, artery-clogging desserts that we gobbled up pretty quickly.


Thank you, treasure island, for showing us such a good time. Love, Sherrie, Emily, Maria, and Sara. (We missed you Tina, Jenny, and Mom.)


And that was just the first half. It would take an hour to read the amazingness of this week, so I decided to separate them into two different blog posts. Wait patiently for round two, where Andrew Dost from Fun (the band) and I have a DTR!!!

Jealousness and Nate Ruess lovin'

My ex-boyfriend is so cool. I'm kind of obsessed with male vocalists with really unique voices--in particular Nate Ruess. Nate Ruess started his music career in Arizona as a member of the successful band The Format. When the band broke up two years ago, Nate formed the band Fun. and is on tour right now with Jack's Mannequin (I swear pictures are forthcoming. Give me some time to recover.)

But Nate thinks he's too cool for school right now so he doesn't come out to take pictures with fans or sign autographs. But when he was an up-and-coming band member from Arizona, my little future ex-boyfriend, Bryce, was a little head banging high schooler in Arizona and got to meet him. Jealous. He sent it to me once, so I'm publishing it here and living vicariously through Bryce:


Bryce is the second from left, Nate is to his right.

Bryce and I went tubing in the Provo river this summer and my tube flipped over. I have naturally crazy wavy hair so when it dried (and the only warm thing I had in the car was Bryce's argyle sweater), Bryce told me I looked like Nate. What do you think?



But the best is that The Format had a professional photographer taking pictures at one of their Arizona concerts when Bryce was in high school (and I was probably on my mission or something) and Bryce got in the picture. Interestingly enough, another guy named Max, who whom Bryce did not yet know, got in the picture as well. Max and Bryce ended up being roommates at BYU after their missions and both realized they were photographed at the same concert together. Here it is:


Max is the one with the "what, you know I'm hot" look on his face in the front. Bryce is the 6 foot 4 under-age hottie way in the back right with his hand up in, what we as Texans refer to as the 'hook 'em horns sign.

Oh and p.s., if you want your ears to be stroked with the silky smooth sounds of Nate, touch here: The Format--Swans
(I'm so obsessed with this song that I work out to this. No joke. Running 8-minute miles to a love ballad.)

Belatedy

Umm. So I definitely have not posted in awhile. I'd like to say that the last couple weeks have been really busy, but the truth is that they've just been extremely fun. I haven't had any desire to post because I've had way better things to do. Like... well I shouldn't get into it. Pictures to follow.

But because this post is lame, I created a new word: belatedy. It's a noun describing the state I am in when writing this post so late.

Also can we please just talk about mornings after crazy crazy nights? As a mormon, how am I able to garner sympathy for the head and stomach aches that ensue after a night of (clean) partying? I can not, in good conscience, blame it on a hangover; people will get the wrong idea. But if I just say I stayed up late last night, people don't feel any special credit is due. I need to come up with a word for this feeling. You know what I'm talking about.

I'm feeling it right now. And the only thing so far to make me feel better is drinking Citracel and eating peanut butter on crackers for breakfast.

Different Personalities

Friday I received an email from the Dean of Admissions. He asked if we could meet that morning. Immediately I thought the worst and knew I was being kicked out of law school. I prepared my speech, "It was all a big misunderstanding."

Instead, he offered me a job as a research assistant.

I am in charge of new media communications for newly admitted students to encourage them to matriculate at BYU. In a nutshell, I will be getting paid to constantly check Facebook.

But here's the cool part. I sent a mass text to my family telling them the good news. It was fun to see everyone's responses based on their own personalities and their own relationship to me:

Tina (sister closest in age): Sweet. Congratulations.
Damon (brother-in-law): Holy #*$%. That's great. Will this impact your summer plans?**
(after telling him I'd still be home for the summer): Congrats. That's awesome.
Sherrie (oldest sister): Congrats!
Mom: congratulations! As always, i am so proud of you.
Dad: of the law school?
(after answering first questions): Tell him you already have a job.
(after answering Dad's next concern): When do you work and how much do you get paid?
(after answering his third concern): Which is?
(after answering last concern): Hope you have time.


No texts from my sister Emily or brother Chris. Why? Because Chris is an "as-necessary" man. If he doesn't need to respond he won't. I think it's implied he's proud of me. :) And Emily only checks her phone every several hours so by the time she found out, Damon was probably home and told her he congratulated me for the both of them.

Love my fam.


**For the record, Damon doesn't swear but he pretends like he does. He literally used those characters on the text, not a swear word.

Life lesson of the day

NEVER.

EVER.

SHOWER

...after slicing jalapenos.

No matter how much hand-washing you do after fondling those hot little devils, you will never rid yourself of the spicy sensation.

guaranteed.

They call me a player...a team player

I just took a test to find out my mediation style. It's for this course I am taking to become a court-certified mediator for the state of Utah. Here are the results, if you even care:

Your Results
Demand (6)
Convince (15)
Negotiate (7)
Team Work (10)
Support (4)
Avoid (3)

Interpreting Scores
~ The highest possible in each category is 15.
~ None are inferior; all can be appropriate depending upon factors.
~ The goal is to be able to use all of the styles at the appropriate time
~ Highest score - most comfortable style.
~ Lowest score - least natural.
~ Even scores means you are even balanced in the different styles.
~ Difference of only one or two points - easy to have second style be a ready back up.
~ Difference of two or more - tendency to hold on to style longer even when the style is not working.

The Deming Conflict Styles
The most important aspect to understand about the conflict styles is that they are not permanent. Each style has positive and negative aspects. The goal is to learn traits from each style and be able to easily move from one style to the other depending on the situation.

Convincers - I, We, You
Convince - Attempting to persuade someone to accept your point of view.
Communication Traits - Smooth talkers, charming, and charismatic. Usually very likable people and have good leadership skills. Tend to exaggerate the positive. Love to debate. TIP: Need to work on listening skills because they usually bring up their own experience and think about what they are going to say next instead of listening. Need to make sure and follow through with commitments.

Positive Aspects:
~ Usually get their way (Ummm... I'm pretty sure I already told you that in #12 here.)
~ Used extensively in the business world
~ Does not use force, but uses logic, reasoning, and charm
Negative Aspects:
~ When there is no trust, convincing will not work
~ Others may feel cheated
Professions that use the style:
~ Car Salesman, telemarketer, politician, and advertiser
Best when:
~ The idea is so important to you that you don’t have any flexibility
~ You want to convince others of your ideas
Works best with:
~ Convincers

Team Workers - We, You, I
Team Workers - Collaborating and using creativity to make everyone satisfied.
Communication Traits - Creative, considerate, good listeners and talkers. Usually focuses on the positive. Very social and amicable. They are only completely happy if others are happy too. TIP: Need to realize that not everyone is a team player and they need skills in other areas so they do not get taken advantage of.
Positive Aspects:
~ Creative
~ Makes everyone satisfied by combining options
~ Knows how to listen and express feelings
Negative Aspects:
~ May get taken advantage of, especially in business world.
~ Does not work unless everyone wants to be involved, fair, and honest.
~ Takes a lot of time.
Professions that use the style:
~ Mediators, human resource, communication department, or company management
Best when:
~ The relationship is important to you
~ Working with other teamworkers
~ Have plenty of time
Works best with:
~ Team Workers

Oops.

New Year's Resolutions are being flushed down the toilet already.

New Rules.

OK, so I caved. I made more New Year's Resolutions. Because if I don't keep the one from my previous post(fingers crossed) I would feel like such a failure. So please help me keep these rules of 2010:

* 100 percent visiting teaching
* Lose 35 pounds by summer
* Apply to one firm every day until my Texas trip (Feb. 13)
* Travel

See Daniel? Most of my goals do NOT involve kissing. :)

Two Down, 363 to go

I have always been extremely goal oriented. At the beginning of each new year I usually concoct fifteen goals that fit neatly into four little categories, all bent at improving who I am. I never reach them all. This year, though, I only made one goal. So far, I've almost already broken that one.

That goal is to kiss no more than two boys this year.

The goal really is to only kiss people who I could see myself marrying but I have to quantify it or else my lawyer brain will find some justification why I "might eventually" feel like I want to marry some boy.

I held out strong today even though it was extremely difficult. I will feel like such a winner if this goal is kept.

Copycat

A few days ago I blogged about a date where I discovered the antics I pull when dating. Tonight I went on a date with a guy who, through clear and convincing evidence, I'm pretty sure read the last blog entry and conformed his date around it. At first I was weirded out but some of the things he was doing. But then I thought, "Wait a minute...aren't these sort of a version of what I wrote on my blog?" The gig was up. So, "Peter," if/when you read this, I'm sorry I am broadcasting our date publicly. But I guess that's what you get for virtually stalking me.

When I got home and explained the date to my roommate, she said, "You can't outplay the player...especially using her own game. That's right, Katie. That's right. Here's how the date went down, using my own bullet points.

1. I plan every move.

He admitted to me that for weeks and weeks and weeks before the date he did extensive research on me. He quizzed boys I had previously dated; he asked people in the ward who had known me for awhile about me; he asked random law connections that I don't even know that well. And I'm beginning to think he also read through this blog, too.

2. I rely heavily on looks. It makes or break the rest of my relationship with a guy.

First, he spared no potential moment of silence by exclaiming how "beautiful" and how "sexy" he thinks I am.

Second, you may remember my last blog post where I emphasized the guy's height as the most attractive thing. Guess what he chose to focus on: his height. He's 6' 4" and he just kept going off about he attractive that is to women. Coincidence? I think not.

3. I am not myself early on--I parrot a boy's personality until about date three.

Early on, like within the first five minutes, "Peter" told me how much he liked me. From then on when I would try to give him a reason not to be attracted to me, he would only follow up with a reason why he's the exact same way. At one point I said I was completely heartless and it's hard for me to really connect to people. He followed: "Oh yeah, me too! I know I seem like a nice guy, but some people get on my nerves a lot." He was serious.

4. I decide early if I'm going to like a boy.

Like I said, within the first five minutes he had told me how much he liked me. By the end of the date he had explained to me all my wonderful characteristics that attracted him to me (mind you, this is our first date so this is all information he gathered beforehand), including my perfect height, impeccable taste in ice cream, and good manners. As he drove me home, he said, "I think I'm already starting to fall in love with you. It's gonna be hard for you to stop me."

5. I put myself in jeopardy to maximize my date's potential.

My last post talked about how I didn't wear a jacket to see if he'd offer his. Well this date I wore a jacket, but he kept asking if I was cold. Later, I noticed he dressed in several layers. Perhaps expecting to share his jacket??

6. I heavily use jealousy to expedite their crush on me.

He once talked about all the dates he was going on and how his roommates always complained about not getting any dates. Other than that, maybe he should've milked the jealousy card a little more. He did ask if I there was anyone, besides himself, that I was romantically interested in. To which I responded, "I love boys. I have a crush on every boy." To which I should've responded, "Well, you've read my blog. You should know the answer to that."

7. I am a detective.

Ummm...it should be obvious by now.

8. I touch boys. And I laugh lovingly at them.

Last post I emphasized how touching is good but overdoing it is not. He overdid it: way too early and out of context. Within five minutes of the date, he had his arm around me uncomfortably as we walked down the streets of Provo. All I could think about was the guy who had left my house not five minutes before with whom I have a history. I was hoping he wouldn't see. But then again I thought it might help with the jealousy points. Anyway, this arm around me stuff happened intermittently throughout the night. Overdone. Weird.

9. I play major reverse psychology. I manipudate the situation when I feel like the boy is getting the upper edge.

This is a step that only true players know how to execute. He probably was confused when he read this on my post because he very apparently did not follow it. In fact, if he had flooded the date with this, he may actually have a shot at a return date. But instead, I had the upper hand the entire night and didn't even have to work for it.

10. I find opportunities to let them shine and then I compliment them on it.

Everything. Everything I did, including when I kept kicking snow on him, was spectacular--He loved it. It made me ill.

Okay so maybe I made a big deal about the guy from the last post liking the same band and the same dessert as me, but I didn't tell him those things and say we'd make a great couple. I only observed them. This guy took "we like the same ice cream" and "we both don't like long plane rides" to mean that we'd make a great couple.

11. I surgically plant in their heads the idea that this is not the last time we will see each other.

This was more than surgery; it was my strapped on a gurney being punctured in every possible vein. At every inopportune moment, Mr. Peter talked about "the next time we go out" to the point where he even said that by date four I would be madly in love with him. Hmmmmm. On the doorstep at the end of the night he asked when we could go out again. I insisted he called me later. He insisted we schedule it right then and there. He didn't realize he had delivered the upper hand on a silver platter to me and that I wouldn't budge. He relented and said he'd call next week and take me to dinner. Cool.

12. I win. Always.

Nope.

Story NOT to be continued....

On another note: Mr. Boy from below, let's call him Skyler, texted me today. We're going out some time next week. Fingers crossed. :)