don't get me wrong, vacations are really, really great. and i needed a vacation, you know? i needed to quit my job and go on a week long vacation--on the water!!--without worrying about anything and knowing that when I return I'll be starting a new job that i'm excited (terrified) about.

that's what i needed.

but also. while i was out there, i couldn't help but feel like i just needed my own bed, and my own space, and my own friends, and a little break from my neurotic self-analysis.

but how do you get a break from your own head?


no amount of distance can give you that.





anyway, i'm back and i'm tan and i really did have a wonderful time, and now i'm going to stress over what i'm going to wear on my first day because worrying about frivolous things like that is easier than worrying about potentially having just made a horrible decision or failing and realizing i've wasted my last 5 years in school on something i am not cut out for.

so my question to you is..... how do you feel about coral and black?

necessity of necessity

i stared helplessly at the neatly folded t-shirts in my drawer. i had nothing left to do.

i had sorted through every last belonging of mine, throwing some things out, stashing others in a large sack for charity, and finding permanent homes for the rest. my linen shelves were methodically organized, towels and sheets in their proper places. my bureau drawers were cleaned out and tidily arranged. the gift wrapping supplies and extra boxes in my coat closet was sorted and tucked away. i had rearranged my dish cabinets 3 times and replaced picture frames, pillows, and furniture. the vacuum had run it's usual course through the apartment several times that week. even the rugs were freshly shaken and cushions recently fluffed.

i'd started spending more time at my aunt's house. she was hopelessly busy and lived in a state of cheerful chaos at all times. i busied myself with video projects and excess laundry, piles of dishes and dirty windows. i worked my way through the family, curling hair and applying make-up, trailing behind and holding extra clothing during family pictures.

i found friends with tired bodies and precious children to babysit for, neighbors struggling to prepare for extended vacations, co-workers with impossible love lives.

the time eventually came that i was not needed.

i had nothing to do. i had nothing that needed to be done, and no one that needed me.


i hadn't heard from my sister in weeks.

i had caught her tucking away pictures of dresses, rings, and flowers. it seemed "a year" was no longer the plan, and she hadn't breathed a word of it to me.

she usually didn't talk to me when she was happy. she didn't need me when she was happy.


i hadn't heard from the rest of my family much, either, except for the occasional text message from my mom. she was working double-shifts at the diner and i could hear in her voice that she was exhausted, but more content than she had been in a while. she needed the job at the diner.

but she didn't need me.


not even my office needed me. they knew it, i knew it, my co-workers knew it. i wasn't valuable to the company, which made me less motivated, pushing my necessity further down the scale. i was filling space, and occasional conversation, and that was about it.


tracing my hands over the folds of clothing in the drawer, my mind drifted to a time when i was needed. wanted. thought-of, at the very least.

it wasn't a pleasant experience.


yet, here i was, feeling unneeded and wishing someone would call me with a crisis so i could feel some type of purpose once again.

via

memorial day weekend

This is going to be one of those real-life posts, for anyone who cares what I do with my time. (mom.)

ps i took zero pictures of the weekend because i suck, but imagine some really great photos of really exciting things, okay?

my cousin is leaving for his mission to Wellington, New Zealand in a week, and so this weekend mostly revolved around his farewell festivities.

the thing is that lately, i've been getting really anxious in large groups? am i a thousand years old? so saturday's luau celebration found me in the basement, reading and hiding from throngs of people who i've met several times, but don't recognize me, and later insist that they do in fact remember me ("oh, yes, you used to have red hair!")

and the sunday morning family brunch found me napping because, i mean, 50 people to whom i'm distantly related is just a little much to handle for my poor, stress-riddled body.

church had easily 500 crammed into one chapel and it was uncomfortably warm and unreasonably long and unexpectedly emotional.

luckily, there was a post-luau-and-brunch wreckage for me to come back to, and cleaning just really eases my nerves, did you know that? i spent a good 3 hours cleaning and slept for two hours and felt a million times better.

monday morning brought on yet another crowd as the memorial day breakfast up the canyon commenced. i was feeling resolved of the anxiety from the previous few days, but also had an upset stomach so i still couldn't quite enjoy myself because i live my life in crisis mode, and so.

after breakfast we went back and just hung by the pool for like 4 hours. the weather was beautiful and i split my time between basking and reading Great Gatsby (walking cliche right here, i know, i know) and playing pool volleyball.

then we had the genius idea to ride bikes up to maui chill, because who doesn't love 50% off frozen yogurt (except it ended up being 20% off frozen yogurt, but even 0% off frozen yogurt is worth the trip, am i right?) and i'll tell you, beach cruisers in a sundress and sandals are wonderful for beach cruising, but not so much for 2-mile rides up treacherous hills. my body is still hurting.

and also i don't believe in sunscreen.

and also also, all of these events took place at my aunts house, and i wasn't home all weekend, so when i came back at 9 pm last night, i set out on a mission to clean. i'm getting rid of huge trashbags full of clothes and deep cleaning out every drawer and shelf in my house, and i'm just feeling less and less stressed by the second.



so, if you ever need anything cleaned, what i'm saying is that it would really just be my pleasure.

the life i almost had; a narration of the last four years of my life

it's 4:30 am and i can't sleep.

my insomnia has, of course, led me to catching up on the lives of old friends. i've gone through all my core friend groups from the last 5-ish years of my life, just to see where i'd be if i would have just picked one group and stuck with it.

here's what i've come up with.

a picture from each summer of the last four years. 

i started at byu just more than 4 years ago.

my first year was spent exactly right. i lived in the dorms and ate at the cannon center and went to the dances and attended church every sunday and made cookies for boys in my ward. i even tanked my first semester like every normal college student (NOT normal for byu, but listen... college is hard, beer or not, okay?)

for the first semester of my second year, i lived at home. i blamed it on the fact that one of my dearest friends from high school had a brain tumor, and i wanted to be close to her. and that was... partially true.

but if i'm being honest, like completely honest with myself, it was because the last few weeks of my first year didn't go so well socially. and it was absolutely my fault, i have no way of getting around that. i made some decisions that lost me some very strong relationships and i don't know if i'll ever really get over that.

but anyway, i never looked for an apartment or did any kind of serious thinking that involved moving back to provo. secret? i haven't been back to provo since then. i mean obviously i've been there, but i haven't moved back or even really spent significant time there that wasn't on campus. i can't explain it, something about provo gives me anxiety.

the second semester of my second year, i moved out with my best friend. we'd known each other since jr high and she had never moved out and i didn't want to go anywhere without a security blanket that came in the form of a relationship that i could probably never ruin if i tried, so we moved to orem. close enough?

and i lived this semester trying to do all the things right, but not really. we kind of socialized, we went to maybe 40% of the church that we were supposed to, and my job became more important to me than my school. and, while in the long run i think living with my best friend ultimately strengthened my relationship with her, it was kind of hard at the time. we had small fights that mostly consisted of not speaking for days, and she came back to the apartment maybe 3 nights a week, and i developed a kind of social depression that found its way into my life by way of gossip girl reruns and cadbury eggs--which were the reason my adventures in veganism ended.

--oh yeah, i tried veganism. so far, i've tried the typical provo-byu college lifestyle, the granola-y vegan "phase" college lifestyle, and the working-more-than-schooling college lifestyle.

it was at the end of my second year that my mom was checked into a hospital and then my parents were separated for some time. i could probably use more discretion in this subject, but it is what it is. my dad asked me to move home to help take care of the family. my mom was gone, my dad was a wreck, my sister just avoided being home at all costs, so i was just kind of there. pretending to hold everyone together.

it's important that i say here that i used to blame my proceeding life choices on this phase in my life. while they did play a huge role in things that were to come, i made my own choices. i had my own desires. when presented with the same opportunities that i was, under different circumstances, it's likely that i would have made the same decisions.


after my mom moved back home, i moved to my aunts house. i kind of wish that i never would have done that because it did some serious damage in a lot of my relationships, but it was a necessary step.

it was here that i met bryson.

i moved back home after a few months and started school. the day before school started, bryson and i started a little adventure that turned into a year-long relationship. that entire school year was spent in a whirlwind of mistakes. my parents were completely checked out. they spent basically the entire year in their bedroom trying to sort things out, and my sister and i got away with everything. it was during this one year of my life that i made every serious mistake i've probably ever made.

there's not really much more to say about that school year. i did worse that year than my first semester, probably because i wasn't sober for most of it. i also fell in love that year.

the summer after my third year at byu, i was completely in love with someone and i was prepared to marry him. well, i thought i was prepared to marry him. i laugh at that now, but anyway. he cheated on me, so i told him to never speak to me again, and that was that.

moving on.

my parents moved to colorado this summer, and it should be clear by now that i'm a person who was/is socially unfit for roommates, etc. so, after bouncing around from couch to couch for a few weeks, i moved in with my cousin, who owns a house and lives alone, and continued to live out of boxes. i stayed there for an entire semester, which i took off of school. i had just started a new job, ended a serious relationship, and really came into my problem with substances.

i like to think that it's my relationship with bryson that gave me a substance-abuse problem, but it was really the time after things ended that it was truly an issue. while we were together, i was still mostly just experimenting. it's afterwards that i started trying harder drugs and drinking more and slutting around like a real-life college student.

then one day, i decided to grow up. i moved out into my own apartment, BY MYSELF, and went back to school part time. i tried sobriety and church for two months, and then mike happened. well, nothing really happened, but it was just kind of the principle behind the whole situation, and also ashlee came back into the picture at the same time, so how could i not have returned to my life of narcotics?

right?

so i was back to smoking and drinking and pill popping, mostly on the weekends. or when i wanted to go jogging.

and then my sister moved in with me. (for those who have made it this far, we're in the summer after my fourth year at byu, aka a few months ago.)

my sister has many more friends than i do, and they mostly all have a substance problem, too. we thought we were so sophisticated, with wine parties on the deck and hot boxes in the bathroom, but really, i was just falling further into my habit of denial and anti-socialism. only hanging out with my sisters friends? and being that weird stoner older sister that always gets the kids high?

that was me.

and now..... well. it's only been a few weeks of sobriety for me. and it takes every last ounce of energy and focus not to fall back on old habits.

speaking of old habits, i've rekindled a friendship with bryson. we go to institute together and try to keep each other sober and it's weird. that's all i have to say because i'm trying not to think about it too much, or i'll probably get freaked out and never talk to him again. but it's been good and i'm happy so, no more thinking!

ALL OF THIS IS TO SAY!

i could have lived the provo lifestyle. i could have gone from the dorms, to liberty square, to king henry, where i'd probably still be. except i'd probably be graduated, actually. because i'm into my fifth year now. and i still have a year to go. all those semesters off... shoot.

in any case, what i'm trying to say is that... i always kind of hated the provo lifestyle. i thought it was stupid and fluffy and annoying.

and now, i just have this overwhelming feeling that i need to abandon the life i've set up for myself, the apartment that i've spent the last 10 months furnishing and establishing, and i need to get room mates. and go to church. and hike the fucking Y. and probably stop saying fuck.

except that i know i can't back track, so.. now i'm just feeling stuck. i'm feeling old and sad and overwhelmed by the lives i could have lived.

hopefully, i'll figure out what life i'm supposed to live soon, so that i can get to it. i don't want to feel this regretful hindsight feeling ever again.



if you made it to the end of this post, please leave your name and address so i can send you a thousand dollars.

i wanna be, wanna be, wanna be jim morrison

I spent $45 at DI the other day.

Yes, I have a problem.

But I wanted to do a picture frame project, and then I found some shoes, and then some glorious pillows! AND THEN... the call of the outdoor section was too strong, and i found myself toting around some very hideous chairs that I tried -- guys, I TRIED -- to resist the call of, but their power was too strong and.

anyway.

Mallory couldn't believe it. 

"Aren't they beautiful?"

"........no."

But I had vision. And here they are today:

Unfortunately I didn't really invest myself in trying to get fancy with my iPhotography.. sorry for the shitty quality.

BUT! Cute, right?

They don't actually really fit in my apartment, so things are starting to feel a little cramped. Damn me and my need to save beautiful, unwanted furniture!

Also, my walls are so drab. And I'm renting, so I can't really do anything about it.

But I saw shiny duct tape at WalMart and I KNEW there had to be a use for it.

Chevron wall treatment!

This picture doesn't do it justice. It also doesn't convey the amount of time and tears that went into this project. I was going to do chevron down the walls, which then turned into huge diamonds down the walls, but due to a lack of rulers in my house, it was just a hot mess that drove my OCD insane. I left a half-finished disaster up for a few days and just avoided that part of my house. Too stressful.

Finally, during a much-needed post-finals night alone, I buckled down and just did it. I had to use a note pad for measurements and a steak knife for cutting (my scissors really hate duct tape.) It's not absolutely perfect, but it's miles better than my first few attempts, and it really adds dimension to the room.

or some other cliche interior designer thing.

apartment tour, for those who were interested

this, obviously, is the view from my peephole to outside. 
how awesome are iphone cameras??

on the right, you have the nail which holds my keys. this should not be such an important part of my life, but it really is. before this nail, my keys could never be found. never.

there's a metaphor here somewhere..

next, we meander on over to my kitchen. on the left, you have "the wall." this wall has pictures of most of the people who matter most to me, cool art, and random things that are awesome but have no home (i.e. fortunes from my chinese addiction.)

please take note of my adorable god-baby top-center.

to the right, we have my tea kettle, salt shakers, microwave, and spice rack.

these things are important to me and are integral to my connection with adulthood, 
but the story gets long.

i'll spare you.

now we hop over to my living room. i need to invest in some curtains, because my apartment gets damn hot during the day. also, those lanterns have lights but they don't plug into anything because i think visible hanging extension chords are tacky, 
hence, again, the need for curtains.
on the right, you meet the beard (crucial) 
and are introduced to my addiction to chevron fabrics.
incidentally, the colors of that pillow are exactly the colors of the in rainbows album i have hanging above it.
didn't even realize it until i took this picture.



lastly, we head toward the back of the apartment where i actually live, and have invested less time decorating.
andy warhol lives in the bathroom and reminds everyone to be kind. thanks andy.
also, how cute is my shower curtain? cheapest one at walmart. WHAT UP.
and... you can kind of see the bureau i refurbished, which is one of four items total that make up my bedroom.
it's a plain space back here, but we're working on it.




anyway, that's mostly it.
i really really really love my little place, 
which is feeling more and more like home everyday.

side note: i have a balcony.

never used it.

anyone want to come over for a dinner party?

cocktails on the balcony?

when there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire

today, i asked my sister how she felt about some boys from her past.
and she said fine, i've moved on to bigger and better.
and i jokingly said, named?
and she laughed and said, named self-respect.



and i.... cried.


because, that's what i've been saying to myself and everyone else for the last 9 months.
you only really ever move on once you've accepted yourself and learned to love who you are, etc etc.


you've heard all this from me before.


but.... lately, i've forgotten.
i've allowed myself to worry about money instead of be proud of my independence.
to let the emptiness of my apartment inspire loneliness instead of freedom.
to constantly worry about calories and  wear more makeup than is necessary and feel nauseous whenever i hear the name "shelby."

i'm letting myself slip back into a place of insecurity.
this is a place that i have worked so hard to get out of.
to realize that there's nothing wrong with me. i have flaws, yes. but it wasn't until i saw the good in myself that i could tackle the bad.

and bit by bit, my self-critical, self-loathing side has creeped it's way into the forefront of my mind.
and i've been so unhappy; not because of my current circumstance, but because i stopped working to love myself.

to respect myself.


and my sister not only reminded me of that today, but also showed me how much she's grown.
i'm happy for her to learn the things i've learned. and to apply them.

it's a sucky lesson to learn, but it really, really is the most important one.

friday song and the way our lives devolve

these last few months have been weird. 

not bad, not good. just... weird. 

i'm spring cleaning my life. 

i deleted like 600 people off facebook, 20 people from my phone book, all my old messages and photos, and, obviously, scrubbed the shit out of my apartment.

and i feel... the same.

so. there's that.

this is a(n extra extra long) story about how my table came to be.

and the award for trashiest new years house party goes to...

ME!!!!!!!!!!

and it really was just the trashiest thing you ever did see.

like, i even had to break up a fight at one point.

but i feel like a really trashy house party is a requisite for your first real place. i'm glad i got it out of the way early, while i don't really have any furniture to break.

AND-- it was so much fun!

i've always hated new years, and had really low expectations for it. i figured things wouldn't be any different this year when my plans fell through early in the day. but there seemed to be a lot of people who didn't have any specific plans who just wanted to get really, really drunk, and somehow we all found each other.

and we had a freaking blast.

i kept meaning to take pictures (because i never take pictures anymore) but i was having far too much fun to worry about it. also, i lost my phone ten hundred million times. probably a good thing, too, because i only inappropriately texted about 5 people. i almost took a picture of the aftermath, but i don't want you to judge me.

anyway, i didn't make any resolutions or anything. i don't want to. because here's the thing-- i'm already working super hard toward self improvement and personal growth and all of that. i already know the things i want and need to do in order to get to a place where i want and need to be.

and things are really coming together for me. i have a car that i LOVE that doesn't require very expensive maintenance every two and a half seconds; i have my very own apartment that's just humble and (for now) very empty, but it's my very own; i'm getting back into school; i have a full time job with full health and dental insurance; i have-albeit very, very few-some really good friends.

i have a great feeling about 2012.

and you know?

i think it has a great feeling about me.