Things To Be Excited About...

The first thing that each and every one of you should be excited about is that I finally got my lazy fingers to post something on this here blog. That's exciting thing number one. Other things are as follows.

*dramatically clears throat*

Things I, Mallorie Anne Mecham, Am Currently Ridiculously Excited About:

(in no particular order...oh who am I kidding. They're SO in order)

1. Mother's Day is in 38 days. This means that I not only get to celebrate my saintly mother, but that I get to talk to this here missionary.

2. I'm leaving for a fancy pants trip to the Dominican Republic and NYC with some pretty freaking awesome people on May 17th. 10 days of sand, awesomeness and no international students sending me emails. If you are calculating correctly you will realize that this means I get to spend my birthday in New York...which leads us to...

3. I get to spend my birthday in NEW YORK CITY! With Charisse. And her awesome family. Three cheers for turning cough28cough and being an honorary Baxter.

4. Jalyanie and Lucas are coming for a WEEK in June to see me. Okay, it's not really to see me, it's for Lucas' sister's wedding, but I'm really important. And I finally get to meet the darling Janie!

5. It's spring. Spring means skirts. And heels. And cute clothes. And flowers. And sunshine. And all kinds of delightful loveliness prior to the death that is SUMMER where I will melt into an unrecognizable puddle.

6. Netflix and the TV gods conspired to give me the greatest birthday present that a magic-trick-loving-banana-eater could ask for. Behold!

7. ENDER'S GAME. People. This is big. My world will be forever changed on November 01, 2013.

8. While I'm on the movie kick: The Veronica Mars Movie. Oh yes, marshmallows. V. Mars is back to rock your world.

9. My hairs are finally growing out. Want proof? See below. (Sorry for the fuzziness. Dropping your iPhone, for some reason, makes it less effective. Who knew?)

9.2 I'm also digging this nail polish color.

10. Even though I can't get myself to Manchester, this is cause for great excitement for a theatre nerd such as m'self.

So dearest friends, what are YOU excited about these days? Fill me in.

From the ridiculous to the sublime...

I'm a planner.
I like lists.
I like timelines.
I like back-up plans.
I like to be able to check things off and know that I'm done.

When I was in high school, I created a life plan. And part of this life plan (as absolutely silly and ridiculous as this might seem now) included purchasing all of my clothes from Banana Republic. Vain? Maybe. But it was a goal all the same.

Something else you need to know? I got a new job today. Yup. It's true. Who has two thumbs and is the newest member of the graduate admissions staff? This girl. This job is fancy. And I am... well, blessed doesn't seem to be a strong enough word. This opportunity had absolutely nothing to do with me and everything to do with the fact that I have a loving, wonderful and completely gracious Father in Heaven who surrounded me with incredible friends that think far better things of me than I deserve.

One of the best parts about this fantastic job (the promotion from "administrative assistant" to "program coordinator" aside)? A raise. It's completely tacky to say how much, but I will tell you this: it's enough that I can cross my Banana Republic goal off my list. And I have solid proof that this goal was not as lame as it may originally seem. I will now recount the story for your reading pleasure.

(clears throat and announces the following in a dramatic tone)

SOLID PROOF OF THE VALIDITY OF MY BANANA REPUBLIC GOAL:

Last Friday evening, Sarah the Theatre Fairy and I took City Creek by storm to do a little 'light' shopping because a) I finally got my tax return (long story) and 2) I had a job interview on Monday afternoon. We made our way into Banana Republic (which I swear was glowing just a little, proving that it's as magical as I've always thought) where we were greeted by a completely lovely sales girl who immediately started pulling out the most beautiful clothes for me to try on. In the middle of all the gorgeous madness, Sarah found the Perfect Dress. Everything about this dress was amazing. As soon as I zipped it up, I could hear the Hallelujah Chorus playing. I looked taller, my skin was clearer, my hair was brighter...You name it, this dress did it. My fairy godmother herself couldn't have whipped up anything better with her magic wand than this dress. Then Sara found a 40% coupon online. Long story short? I left Banana with the dress and a few other things, as well as a lovely Banana credit card which has been put to good use over the last week. I walked into Aldo and found the Perfect Shoes to go with the Perfect Dress. They were the last pair, on sale, in my size. Thank you, Shopping Gods.

  Fast forward to Monday morning and me walking into work. The dress was a hit. The interview was perfect. And now I have myself a fancy new job, all thanks to a fantastic friend, a whole lot of inspiration, and the Perfect Dress. Tonight I went back in...just because I have a discount now and why not? The same girl who helped me last week was working, and not only did she remember me, but she was thrilled that I got my job. If you ever need a self-esteem boost, visit the BR at City Creek. Those girls could make you feel great if you looked like death warmed over.

So my friends. What is the point of this post? Simple: No matter how silly the goal, it feels fab to cross it off the list.

Quotes of the Week...

How do you feel about the new and improved blog layout? I think I'm in love so if you hate it, don't tell me. I wouldn't listen to you anyway, if I'm going to be perfectly honest. Anyway, along with the new layout I've decided to do my quotes of the week as their own post. I know. I'm a genius. Also, I wanted to say how much I loved all of your comments on my last post. I'm totally going to gush and say that I clearly have the most awesome friends in the 'Verse.

Without further ado, the quotes of the week:

"A guy and a girl can be just friends, but at one point or another, they will fall for each other. Maybe temporarily, maybe at the wrong time, maybe too late, or maybe forever."

- (500) Days of Summer

"There are far, far better things ahead than any we  leave behind."

-C.S. Lewis

"I don't love studying. I hate studying. I like learning. Learning is beautiful."

-Natalie Portman

"Everything can be taken from a man or woman but one thing: the last of the human freedoms to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."

-Viktor Frankel 

"Do your little bit of good where you are; it is those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world."

-Desmond Tutu

"I am by nature a dealer of words, and words are the most powerful drug known to humanity."

-Rudyard Kipling

Why I Majored in History...

"History will be kind to me, for I intend to write it." -Winston Churchill

I've started this post about three times. And every single time I go through and erase everything that I've written and stare at the Churchill quote again. I won't lie to you, I tried to find one from Doctor Who, but I couldn't find one that I liked well enough. And Churchill? He's my hero. And only partly because he's famous for saying wonderfully snarky things.

This is the thing about being a humanities major: you know from the get go that you're never going to make any money at it. At least if you're smart, you know you're never going to make any money. That's not why you do it. This isn't business school. If you're a true blue history major, you've had more than one person try to take you aside and tell you how worthless your life goals are. Try to talk you into doing something more sensible, like getting your MBA because you're good at analyzing or becoming an elementary school teacher because you're great with kids. While I firmly believe that I would be good at both of those things (both of which are worthwhile goals to pursue), I'm not passionate about product distribution or dividing fractions.

"Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is more people who have come alive." -Howard Thurman

What these well meaning people don't seem to understand is that just because you're talented in a particular area, doesn't mean that's what makes you come alive. And what, may I ask, is the point of spending your entire life doing something that you don't really love?  There isn't one. It's a silly and narrow minded way to view the world. I majored in history because every single time I sat down in one of my classes, I was thrilled at the idea of reading, learning, and absorbing everything that the professor had to offer. I always tell my students at the tutoring center that history is really about people. People just like them. Sure, you have to remember their names and a whole list of dates on which they did all kinds of random things, but if you really look at history for what it is, you see a story. It's someone who lived their life in such a way that you are forever changed by their choices, good or bad.

"It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped.  Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope." -Bobby Kennedy

I majored in history because someone needs to remember them. Who are 'they', you ask? They are anyone. They are infantry soldiers who slogged through the jungles of Vietnam, unnamed women who marched in the streets of New York City demanding the right to vote, immigrants who lived in the poorest conditions you could imagine, mothers who raised their children alone after their husbands were killed defending their country, ordinary people who went about their quiet lives. These people deserve all of the respect that history has to offer them, yet their stories are so often discounted as being 'boring' or 'useless' in the 'real' world. 

"History is our guide to navigation in these perilous times. History is who we are and why we are the way we are." - David McCullough

Last year I was lucky enough to be part of a seminar focused on the Holocaust taught by my favorite professor at the U, Ronald Smelser. If you ever have the chance to take a German history or World War II focused class from this man, run, don't walk. He's amazing. During the course of the class, we discussed the idea that as the termination of the Jewish race grew more prevalent in Hitler's Germany, that very few people stepped in to help or stop the Nazis. It wasn't the focus of the class, but it became my focus as I wrote my final paper. The last paper I would ever write as an undergraduate history major. The more I thought about those people and what they sacrificed, the more I realized that they are why I spent so many years pouring over dusty old books and memorizing dates. It's because these people, whoever they may be, deserve to have someone willing to search for them and their stories. Many of these good men and women suffered and died along with the very people they were trying to help. Their efforts mean so much more than their numbers, because they have permanently and vividly colored the pages of the story of human kind with something redeeming. And all at once it came to me, the real reason that I picked a major that seems completely useless and absolutely senseless to so many people: I studied history because it taught me who I was and where I came from. I studied history because I love learning about people. I studied history because without it you have no math, no engineering, no science. I studied history because the past is prologue. The past teaches us what to repeat and what to stay far away from. I studied history because the world needs all kinds of people to help it run. I studied history because it made me come alive. 

 I studied history because I believe that everyone deserves to be remembered. 

Tuesday Treat...

Oh hi! Happy Tuesday! Did you make it through Monday unscathed? I did, though my wallet did not. Blast that Ikea picture frame section. And blast my mother for buying me so many awesome pictures that need framing. (I know, I'm spoiled. I'll admit it freely. My mom is awesome.) Anyway, since I don't have any of my own wonderful words of wisdom for you on this lovely Tuesday (is it lovely where you are? It's lovely here, though pretty darn windy. But SO very warm. And how's a girl to complain about that? She's not. Especially when her feets are properly warm for the first time in months. Months, I tell you!), I thought I should leave you with some other wonderful words of wisdom via that completely addicting site called Pinterest. Oh? You wanna follow me? I suppose I can help you out with that. Follow away, dear readers.

Can I get an amen?

Loves!

M

Confessions of a Bibliophile...

Now ain't that the truth? So tell me: what's your favorite book to "sink into"? My list is oh so very long. But recently it's been The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. And Midnight in Austenland. And The Devil in the White City. And  Death Comes to Pemberly. Did you know that I simply adore the smell of books? My very most favorite thing to do in the summer time is to go to King's English (an awesome independent bookstore that's been built in an old house) when it's raining. Why raining, you may ask?

Because King's English is so old that they don't have central air. Just a swamp cooler. So the humid smell of the swamp cooler mixes with the delightful smell of thousands upon thousands of book to create a perfume that I would purchase should anyone ever bottle that incredible mixture. Does this make me crazy? Quite possibly. Do I care? Not even a little bit. There is something entirely magical about a bookstore. Especially independent stores like King's English. Call me a hipster if you must, you definitely won't be the first. 

As much as I like shopping for books on Amazon and reading them on my Kindle (Amazon would have to do something completely horrible to shake my loyalty), part of me craves the sensory experience of shopping for a book. I love chatting with the sales girl at the register about what a sweetheart Shannon Hale is and how much we loved her latest book. I love that they have 'recommendation' shelves where employees get to list their favorite books and why they loved them. I love the faint smell of coffee that always seems to linger in the fiction section and they way the light comes in through the window just right when I sit on the bench to read the first few pages of each of the huge pile of books that I want to buy.

I love going to the Shannon Hale loving sales girl and asking her to tell me why she loved The Elegance of a Hedgehog more than The Lenningrad Madonnas. I love the sense of community that a bookstore creates. For just a little while, you're all friends. It's not odd to recommend a book to a stranger or ask the opinion of someone you'll likely never see again. I don't think there's anything more satisfying than that.

A rant and a resolution or four...

To be perfectly honest? I usually find that New Years' Eve is a waste of some well done make up and a carefully chosen outfit. I spend half the night worrying that I have lipstick on my teeth and the other half checking the clock to see if it's time to go home and take my shoes off. (I NEVER walk around random places barefoot. The only exception? My little brother's wedding. I wore 5 inch heels all day. My poor little Hobbit feets were screaming in pain by the end of the reception. That's when I did what any reasonable, sane adult type person would do: I took off those instruments of torture and ran across the parking lot shoe-less; all the while whimpering that my feet were getting dirty. I then promptly washed my now dirty feet when I returned home. But I digress). Don't get me wrong: I've got great friends and we do fun things, but when looked at objectively; New Years' Eve is just another night where most people drink too much and make out in a public place, both of which are socially acceptable on that date. It's also encouraged to throw paper at people and walk around with glitter in your hair; though I suppose those could be considered points in the pro column for New Years', as I like to do both on a regular basis.The only worth while part of the whole business is the resolutions. I love making New Years' resolutions. Usually, I go crazy and try to find a million things that I want to improve; but then end up forgetting about all of the goals that stress me out by February. One year, I even made a goal to make fewer goals, but you can probably guess how well that turned out. So, in a real effort to make some adjustments, I decided that I'd make a few simple goals this year. Are you ready? Hold on to your hats:

A) Go to bed by 11 pm. (I know. I'm getting old. Don't judge me! It just makes getting up at quarter to 7 so much easier).
2) Read more, watch less TV (so as to cut down on the massive pile of unread books currently taking up space on my nightstand. I've already finished one. Seven thousand to go).
Thirdly) Go running three times a week. (Because to be honest? I loathe running. If I tell  myself I must go every day then I get stressed that I'm not doing enough. The number three sounded about right.)
Cuatro) Do something unexpected. This has already been fulfilled. Wanna see?

Since I fulfilled resolution cuatro on the second day of the year, I thought it only fair to add one more. (And before you ask, no, my  hair is not in a ponytail). I like round numbers.
So number five) Quit biting my nails.  It's a wretched nervous habit and it must end now!

So there you have it, my dear friends. A rant and a resolution...or four.

Stay classy.

M

By way of an update....

I am currently ignoring a huge pile of laundry. Clean laundry, mind you. I love clean laundry. It's sitting in a massive pile next to me on my recently vacuumed floor while I half pay attention to the first season of Castle (which I'm watching for the millionth time) while I casually eat Ben and Jerry's Cherry Garcia FroYo. And yes, I am picking out the chocolate fudge flakes. What is that look for? If you know me at all, you know that I always pick the chocolate chunks out of any ice cream (fine fine fine, froyo) that I eat. Where am I going with this? To be perfectly honest, no where. As I sit in my mostly clean bedroom, surrounded by lovely clean clothes, I have come to the realization that I'm pretty darn content with my life. When it comes down to it, who am I to complain? Sure, I could give you a long list of the things that aren't great in my life (please reference the opening lines of "Holding Out for a Hero" and take a gander at these pictures for two things that are pretty darn close to the top of the list). But why, may I ask, should I waste time being unhappy about things I have no control over? Remember the Roald Dahl book "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory"? Sidebar: Before you say anything, yes, I am totally pulling this from this talk, but whether you're Mormon or not, the concept completely applies to you, so don't stop reading. Remember how Willy Wonka, the crazy, slightly unhinged candy maker, hides five golden tickets in some of his candy bars and then announces to the world that whomever finds these special tickets wins not only a private tour of his factory, but a lifetime supply of chocolate? Written on each ticket is an identical message: "Greetings to you, the lucky finder of this Golden Ticket! Tremendous things are in store for you! Many wonderful surprises will delight, astonish and perplex you." In the book, (in the off chance that you haven't read it [shame on you] or seen either of the movies) people all over the world become obsessed with finding the Golden Tickets, buying up all the Wonka chocolate they can find, placing their future happiness on a game of chance. When the ticket is not to be found in their particular candy bar, the joy of the treat (and trust me, there is definitely joy in chocolate) is completely lost. The candy bar itself becomes a complete disappointment without the addition of the Golden Ticket. I think that so often we get fixated on our own "golden tickets" and forget the simple joy of the chocolate. Well, at least I do. There are so many things that I want to accomplish in my life. So many plans and goals. More often than I would like to admit, I get bogged down in how far out of my control some of my plans are that I forget to enjoy the "chocolate"; my friends, my job, my family, the incredible opportunities that I'm given on a regular basis. What, my dear readers, is the point of all this particular ramble? Simple: every now and then stop and enjoy the chocolate. You'll never be sorry that you did.

A passion for dead leaves...

(Hey y'all, do me a favor and vote in my poll. I promise to send positive energy and lovely thoughts your way for each vote..)

If I could pick a season in which to live perpetually, it would be fall. I love everything about fall. I love the golden colors the sun creates as it filters through red, orange and yellow leaves. I love the tangy smell in the air when I wake up in the morning. (Have you ever noticed that each season has a smell? Well, it does. Let me enlighten you: spring smells clean, like wet dirt and freshly cut flowers. Summer smells warm, like newly cut grass and sun dried pavement. Fall smells tangy, like fallen leaves blown off the trees by the wind. Winter smells crisp, like falling snow on a quiet evening . Aren't you so glad that I called your attention to this? Thank me later.)  I love the little bit of bite the air has to it. I love driving with my windows down and not melting in the kind of heat that can only have been created by Hades. (I know. It's not as bad as Texas or Arizona. That's why I don't live in those places. If I think Utah is too hot, imagine how miserable I'd be some place else.) I love any excuse to wear a chunky sweater and tights. I love boots. I love the feeling and sound of the crunchy brown leaves under my feet as I walk down the tree-lined streets of my little neighborhood. I know plenty of people like fall, but this complete passion and adoration for all things autumnal has been around as far back as my excellent memory takes me. I remember waking up in the morning during kindergarten and being unreasonably excited to walk to school. Not because I particularly cared for the walk, but because it gave me an excuse to traipse through large piles of leaves and take long deep breaths of that lovely tangy air. Yup, I was that kid. And you know what? I'm glad I haven't grown out of it.

"You know the one thing that grown-ups don't call themselves? Grown-ups. They call themselves adults."

(Title courtesy of Lorelai Gilmore. She's brilliant.)

So remember how I didn't ever want to be a grown-up? Remember how I can't even stay dressed in the same outfit all day? Remember how I still watch the Disney Channel and how I listen to Selena Gomez? Remember how last night, when I heard a really weird noise in my house, I grabbed my cell phone and the scissors that were sitting on my night stand and walked around my house with the scissors in front of me like a weapon to be sure that there wasn't a rapist or a ghost hiding in my basement? Yes, I know that the scissors wouldn't have been helpful if there had been a ghost in my basement. I didn't have time to think clearly about the manner which would be best to protect me from a ghost. I'm sure 911 could have helped me with the ghost problem and the rapist wouldn't have stood a chance against my superior scissor skills. Anyway, the point of this little story is that I am clearly not a grown-up in any way, shape or form. But hold on to your hats, my dears, because guess who has two thumbs and just got herself a real grown-up job? That's right. This girl. Starting next Monday, I'll be a bona fide full-time employee of the David Eccles' School of Business at the University of Utah aka the secret government job that I had to have four interviews in order to be hired. I'm going to be working as an administrative assistant in the Career Services Center, which doesn't sound like a big deal, but trust me, it is. Mostly because I'm going to be doing it and anything I do is a big deal. Y'all have been reading my blog long enough to have learned that by now. Anyway, here's to being a grown-up. I have no idea how it'll work out. Stay tuned for updates...

I'm not in the mood...

for a Monday. I know that I'm acting like a petulant four year old. I know that, as an adult, I need to pull up my imaginary bootstraps that those of older generations are forever referencing and get over the fact that Mondays happen. At least once a week or four times a month, depending on how you look at it. But to be honest? I'd rather just skip the whole affair all together. I hate pulling myself out of bed to take a shower and get ready for work. (To be honest? I hate pulling myself out of bed every day, but I reserve a special kind of loathing for Monday mornings.) I hate trying to convince myself, on Sunday night, that I don't mind going back to my regular work week. I heartily dislike feeling like I'm clearing cobwebs from my brain all day long. This Sunday I'm especially not loving the idea of Monday rolling around to take its place at the beginning of my week. Over the last seven days I've spent a lot of time with my mom and my sisters. Well, yes, if you must know, my brothers and my dad were there too. I mean, I like them a whole big lot, but you can't take pictures like this with brothers:

The answer you're looking for is no, you can't. In my experience, little brothers don't take kindly to red lipstick. See for yourself:

Whit got him on the forehead before she took the picture. Poor kid. He's too nice to physically move his sisters away from him as forcefully as Max or Cam would have. It sufficeth me to say that I had a completely fantastical week last week. Can you see why I don't want Monday to come? It means that I have to leave a simply lovely week behind and start one that just entails a whole lot of being at work and waiting around for a phone call about that secret government job that I mentioned a couple of posts ago. So, I must ask that if you find yourself with any spare time this week, you throw up a few extra prayers or some good karma on my behalf so I can get this job, okay?

Advice from The Bird Woman...

(Have you ever read A Girl of the Limberlost? NO?! Oh the tragedy! Run, don't walk, to the library and find a copy. It's pure charm and wonderfulness. No, really. I swear to you. I'll forever be grateful that Shayla let me borrow her copy when I was about 13. This quote comes from one of my favorite characters, the Bird Woman. You'll just have to indulge in a little of the wonderfulness of the book to really discover who she is. I must add a special shout out to Amazon for reuniting me with this long lost love. Reunited and it feels so good. Yup, I went there.)

"What you are lies with you. If you are lazy, an accept your lot, you may live it. If you are willing to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the only ones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books that help, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures and work for others. Never mind the calico dress, and the coarse shoes...before long you will hear yesterday's tormentors boasting that they were once classmates of yours."

Gene Stratton-Porter A Girl of the Limberlost  pg. 27

A walk...

Let it be known in the 'Verse that I'm not an outdoorsy girl. I don't do bugs. I don't do lots of dirt. I don't do small animals running around near me. And I most definitely don't do no showers. Call me a girly girl if you must. Call  me prissy. I'll own up to it. I am, however, a outsidesy girl. I like walks. I like sunshine. I like swing sets. I like rain. I like flowers. I like wind in the trees. And I like that I get to walk back into my clean house with a ready shower. It's a win-win, really. Tonight I decided to go on a walk.

As a rule, I kind of hate summer. It's too hot. I dislike feeling as though I'm melting every second that I'm outside of my air conditioned house/car. Today had been a slightly stressful day. I had my fourth (yes, you read that right, fourth) interview for the same job up at the U. I mean, I get four interviews for the CIA, FBI, NSA or any other three letter organization. But really? Anyway, I decided that I needed a walk.

I chose Taylor Swift as the soundtrack for my little journey. Now put your astonished face away. I know I always go on and on about how much I hate country music, but Taylor, she speaks to me. So in my ears the headphones went and my little feets got to walking. I came to a conclusion: I either need a dog (I don't do animals, so this is big deal) or a boyfriend, because people looked at me funny as I bee-bopped down 8th East by my lonesome. That might have been because at one point I could not contain those feets of mine any longer and I started dancing. That's right, dancing. This shouldn't surprise you. Oh, you in the back? Thank you for asking. It was ballet. A few twirls and leaps never hurt anyone. Just after my display, I found a swing set. Which meant that I had to swing. It was an absolute necessity.

Yup. I took pictures of those feets of mine while I was swinging. Hence the blurry pictures. And it was only my cell phone camera. I'm not a big deal and I don't have an expensive camera. It was delightful. I had forgotten how much I love to swing. There's a type of freedom that comes from swinging. It throws me back to being a little kid. Even now, if I close my eyes, the whole world is open to me and I could be swinging off to anywhere. But it makes me dizzy, so closing my eyes isn't a good idea. Plus, I can't take blurry photos for your enjoyment with my peepers closed. So I did the swingings for a bit and then continued my mini-journey. And you know what? The sunlight coming through the trees right about sunset is magical. There isn't an expensive camera in the world that could properly capture it. I'm pretty sure that it could cure cancer or bring world peace. I felt perfectly content with life, even though there are plenty of things that I wish I could change, things that are out of my control entirely. But with that sunlight streaming through the trees? I could do anything. I could work miracles. So, dear readers, what is the moral of this post, you ask? Well simple: Go on a walk. 

Excuses, excuses...

(Taps on imaginary microphone) Testing 1, 2, 3... Is anyone still there? I wouldn't blame you if you weren't. I've been quite the blogging slacker, now haven't I? There's been good reason, I assure you. Would you like to hear the reasons or are you sick to death of excuses? To be perfectly honest, I don't care if you're sick to death of excuses. I'm going to tell you anyway. Now won't that be fun? (clears throat) Here we go.

Where I have been instead of writing on my blog:

*Driving to Cedar City for the Shakespeare Festival. This means that I spent three blissful days watching 6 plays only one of which I really hated. (Blech, Romeo and Juliet is not my thing. I blame it on being in jr. high when the Leo DiCaprio/Clare Danes/Baz Lurhmann version came out and every hormonal girl on the planet was completely enraptured with it. Okay, let's be honest, they were enraptured with Leo DiCaprio. Who has a tendency to die at the end of his movies. Which means that I found it to be silly and slightly ridiculous because my mom thought it was silly and slightly ridiculous.)

*Hanging out with the Stahelis. This means that I get teased more than normal (as I live alone and don't usually tease myself). It also means that I laugh more than normal. Which I love.

*Watching Harry Potter 7.2 and subsequently bawling my eyes out. DON'T JUDGE. I'm slightly attached to Harry. And Ron. And Hermione. And the Weasleys. (Oh Fred!) Sara and I ended up in each other's laps a couple of times. And it was delightful. I now have to go and re-read all of the books. Yes. Have to.

*Playing with Charisse. Why yes, she did visit me from London. And why yes, I loved it. Also, she brought me some awesome London-esque things. Like a "Mind the Gap" magnet for my fridge and a London Olympics key chain which I proudly use, as well as a dog. Yes. She brought me a dog all the way from London. He's meant to be a doorstop, but in actuality, he sits in the green chair in my room. (He's stuffed. And is made of out Union Jack fabric, which matches my "Keep Calm" poster.)

*Watching lots and lots of movies. Thor. Jane Eyre. The good parts version of the Toby Stephens Jane Eyre. Castle. Penelope. Gilmore Girls. Friday Night Lights.

*Reading. I re-read A Wrinkle in Time while I was in Cedar. I bought it from King's English right before I left and can I please just tell you what a treat that book is? I'd forgotten how much I adored it. I also read part of Quatrain, which is a series of short stores by Sharon Shinn who wrote one of my favorite books, Summers at Castle Aubrun. Read it. You will love it. Well, you will if you have any sense.

*Making thank you cards. I finally got all of my card making stuff from my padres' garage and that means making cards again. Which I have sorely missed.

Anyway, readers. This is a faithful accounting of all of my dealings for the past 10 days. I promise to try and be around more often.

M

Date a Girl Who Reads...

I found (and stole it) this on the wild and wily ways of a brunette bomb shell because let's be honest: Meg is brilliant and this is lovely.

Date a Girl Who Reads

by Rosemarie Urquico

Date a girl who reads. Date a girl who spends her money on books instead of clothes. She has problems with closet space because she has too many books. Date a girl who has a list of books she wants to read, who has had a library card since she was twelve. 

Find a girl who reads. You'll know that she does because she'll always have an unread book in her bag. She's the one lovingly looking over the shelves in the bookstore, the one who quietly cries out when she finds the book she wants. You see the weird chick sniffing the pages of an old book in a second hand bookshop? That's the reader. They can never resist smelling the pages, especially when they are yellow.

She's the girl reading while waiting at that coffee shop down the street. If you take a peak in her mug, the non-dairy creamer is floating on top because she's kind of engrossed already. Lost in the world of the author's making. Sit down. She might give you a glare, as most girls who read do not like to be interrupted. Ask her if she likes the book.

Buy her another cup of coffee.

Let her know what you really think of Murakami. Ask if she got through the first chapter of Fellowship. Understand that when she says she understood James Joyce's Ulysses she's just trying to sound intelligent. Ask her if she loves Alice or she would like to be Alice.

It's easy to date a girl who reads. Give her books for her birthday, for Christmas, and for anniversaries. Give her the gift of words, in poetry, in song. Give her Neruda, Pound, Sexton, Cummings. Let her know that you understand that words are love. Understand that she knows the difference between books and reality, but by God, she's going to try to make her life a little like her favorite book. It will never be your fault if she does.

She has to give it a shot somehow.

Lie to her. If she understands syntax, she will understand your need to lie. Behind words are other things: motivation, value, nuance, dialogue. It will not be the end of the world.

Fail her. Because a girl who reads knows that failure always leads up to the climax. Because girls who read understand that all things will come to an end. That you can always write a sequel. That you can begin again and again and still be the hero. That life is meant to have a villain or two.

Why be frightened of everything you are not? Girls who read understand that people, like characters, develop. Except in the Twilight series.

If you find a girl who reads, keep her close. When you find her at 2 AM clutching a book to her chest and weeping, make her a cup of tea, and hold her. You may lose her for a couple of hours but she will always come back to you. She'll talk as if the characters in the book are real, because, for a while, they always are.

You will propose on a hot air balloon. Or at a rock concert. Or very casually the next time she's sick. Over Skype.

You will smile so hard you will wonder why your heart hasn't burst and bled out all over your chest yet. You will write the story of your lives, have kids with strange names and even stranger tastes. She will introduce your children to Cat in the Hat and Aslan, maybe in the same day. You will walk in the winters of your old age together and she will recite Keats under her breath while you shake the snow off your boots.

Date a girl who reads because you deserve it. You deserve a girl who can give you the most colorful life imaginable. If you can only give her monotony, and stale hours and half-baked proposals, then you're better off alone. If you want the world and the worlds beyond it, date a girl who reads.

Or better yet, date a girl who writes. 

Don't judge...

So.
I came home from my LDS mission 3.5 years ago.
I didn't serve in some far off land (unlike some of my friends who ended up in places like Russia and Guatemala), unless you count Los Angeles as a foreign country. Some people would. I was lucky enough to serve Spanish speaking and was introduced to some of the most amazing food ever created.
Flautas?
Papusas?
Horchata?
Gifts from heaven.
My mother, genius cook that she is, learned how to recreate most of these delights pretty soon after I got home. She loves me, what can I say? As wonderful as it was to eat flautas without any roaches crawling across my plate (you think I'm kidding, don't you?) there's just something about eating authentic Latino food made by someone who genuinely doesn't speak any English that makes it more...special.
Friday night I went downtown with Platt (Oh! I haven't told you about Platt yet? Here's a quick run down: Mallory Platt and I are the same person. No, really. People in our ward even call us The Mallory(ie)s. I call her Platt because, let's be honest, it's really odd to call someone by your first name) and we went to an art thing that one of her designs from school was nominated to be part of. (She's an architect.) Afterward we went wandering about. She was aghast to discover that I'd never in all my born days eaten at The Red Iguana. Apparently this is some sort of sin. Off we went. Can I please just tell you all that I nearly cried when we walked into the restaurant? I was immediately homesick for my mission. It smelled like every single dinner appointment that I walked into for nearly 18 months. I actually did cry when they gave us our salsa, and not just because it was hot (apparently my tongue forgot that I used to eat very large jalapeno peppers whole on a regular basis). Platt laughed at me when they gave me my food because I was more than slightly verklempt.

See that there? Real crema. Not sour cream. Honest to goodness refried beans. It was heaven on a plate. I will be returning soon. Don't you little worry. 

Artificial Sunshine...

Confession: I'm far more obsessed with music than I should be. It is physically impossible for me to be in a room for more than 20 seconds without it, I start to twitch like I have Tourettes. You think I'm kidding? Oh, don't you little worry. I'm not. The creation of the iPod was a gift from on high. It means I have a pocket full of music with me at all times. What could be better then that?

So, today, I was driving down 9th east, windows down, music blaring on my way to meet some friends for dinner. Today was one of those totally golden days in Salt Lake where the weather was my kind of perfect. Not too hot, not too cold (Remember? I'm the Goldilocks of seasons), the sun was shinning, and the air smelled like a splendid mix of sunshine, grass and flowers. It was pure delight. To add to my complete bliss, one of my favorite songs began to play on Chuck (for the uninformed, that's my iPod). I came to the decision that there are some songs that are like artificial sunshine. And lucky for ya'll, I've compiled them into a list. You can thank me later. 

Mal's Mix of Artificial Sunshine:

Fader by Temper Trap

Follow You Down by Gin Blossoms 

Why Do You Let Me Stay Here by She & Him

I'm Asking Her to Stay by Sherwood

1234 by Feist

Gray or Blue by Jaymay

Oh, It is Love by Hellogoodbye

Good Mornin' Life by Dean Martin

Be OK by Ingrid Michaelson

Fairytale by Sara Bareilles

Catch the Sun by Jamie Cullum

Come Fly with Me by Frank Sinatra

For Once in my Life by Michael Buble

Reprise by Clarksville

Show Off by Sutton Foster (The Drowsy Chaperone)

You and Me by Plain White-T's

Jump then Fall by Taylor Swift

The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson

You Can't Stop the Beat by The Hairspray Cast

Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson

Can't Buy Me Love by Michael Buble

Pony (It's OK) by Erin McCarley

You Are My Favourite by Sophie Madeleine

Jesus on the Radio by Guster

Any additions? Leave me a comment. I always love new music. 

Playing grown up...

Do you ever feel like you're just playing at being an adult? Let me tell you something: even though I have been counting down the days until graduation, it still felt like I was just pretending. As I sat in a sea of black and red clad graduates all wearing those ridiculous mortar board hats (Can I pause in my seriousness to say that I want to find the person who decided what graduation attire should look like and give them a swift kick in the shins? Everyone looks terrible in that get up AND it screws with your hair. Okay, rant over), I couldn't help but have a slight moment of panic at the idea of entering the real world. 

I've spent the last few days telling people that I still have to go home and finish my homework or contemplating which classes to register for next semester only to come to the jarring realization that all my homework is done and all my classes completed. I suppose that being a school nerd makes the transition slightly more painful because in reality, I'm going to miss school. (Not enough to start grad school right away, mind you. I'm not that nuts.) Part of me is going to miss the papers and the lectures, the assigned reading and the study groups. 

School was safe because it was something that I knew for sure that I was good at. Now I'm required to make all of that knowledge useful somehow, and I'm at a loss for how to do so. I know that a history degree is basically useless without a master's and most places that I apply to work won't care about my views on the Cold War or that I know all about FDR and his alphabet soup. 

But I am determined to make the last 8 years of my life worth something on the grand scale of things. I've already been offered and turned down 2 jobs because they weren't what was right for me (trust me when I say that I know it sounds completely crazy. Take it up with the Lord), and I just have to trust that someone who is much more intelligent and has my best interests at heart is directing things. As long as I follow His plans and His inspirations, I'll end up right where He needs me to be and what could be better than that?

Call me vain if you must.

 But I simply LOVE these pictures that the brilliant, talented and simply delightful Emily Mangum took for my graduation. I know, I know, I stuck them up all over Facebook, but this girl can't get enough exposure and let's be honest: I'm self centered and egotistical and I like them. 

The Daily Ten...

I'm the luckiest. No, really, I am. There are many reasons, but one of them is that I'm related to this darling girl  because my cousin was brilliant enough to marry her (scroll down to see pictures of her. She's seriously one of the cutest people ever). A while back she started doing this fun thing called The Daily Ten where she picked ten things every day that she was grateful for/happy about. Seeings at this is my last semester in school (5 weeks, baby!) and I feel like I'm literally dragging my feet through the days, I decided that it was time for a little Daily Ten in my life. Especially with this being the week after spring break and coming back to school has just about killed me, so ya'll get to hear 10 things that I'm grateful for. Be prepared for it to get silly pretty fast because that's just how I roll.

1) My sister-in-law to be. Jordan has to be one of the most amazing people that I know. She's kind and gracious to everyone. She always makes me feel like I'm important when I'm around her and I'd trade my brother for her in a heartbeat. I'm over the moon that she's going to be an honest to goodness sealed in part of our family in 3 weeks.

2) A new phone. That's right. I've finally joined the ranks of the cool. No, I'm not cool enough to have an iPhone (who wants to pay for the data plan?!) but I did get a new HTC Freestyle which is like an iPhone, but without the extra charge. Now if I could just learn how to use it, I'd be in business.

3) Bath and Body Works Wallflowers. I just got new scents and my whole house smells amazing. Smelling good is one of my all time favorite things. Hence I have about 13 kinds of perfume on my bathroom counter.

4) General Conference Weekend. 2 days. 8 hours. All sorts of awesomeness? Yes, please.

5) Theatre Tickets. I have tickets to see A Tale of Two Cities two more times before it closes. Right now I'm not focusing on the fact that my new favorite show is closing soon, but on the fact that I get to see it TWO more times. It'll bring my grand total up to coughninecough, but who's counting?

6) Amazon Prime.  Just this very morning, this miraculous invention allowed me to purchase three of my favorite books from my childhood: Rain Makes Applesauce, Tikki Tikki Tembo, and Caps for Sale. And the best part? Shipping is free and they'll be here Wednesday. I love my life.

7) Bright Red Nail Polish. I love love love to paint my nails and red is typically my color of choice because it's sassy and fun. Right now I'm having a hard time watching the computer screen instead of my awesome nails as I type.

8) New friends. I've met a lot of  amazing and incredible people lately, which has been lovely especially because I'm a little shy so meeting new people isn't always easy for me.

9) Massive shopping trips. I know I know. I shouldn't shop as much as I do, but I simply LOVE it! And my closet is SO happy when I'm done, even if my bank account isn't. Gap outlet just about broke me on Saturday.

10) Adele. I'm madly in love with her new CD. So much so that I actually bought the disc so that I could have it in my car, on my iPod and on my computer at home. Obsessed much? I think so.