Thursday, March 1, 2012

I'm holding auditions

—Lisa Kleypas 


So I think one of these days I'll get around to this massive pile of homework (ahem, Humanities essay) that's just staring me in the face over there. But blogging first. Of course.


So as I've reached the ripe old age of nineteen (which I'm not kidding is like, pushing 28 in Mormon years) and have not entered into a steady and stable relationship since my days as a high school youth, and therefore have not had anybody "put a ring on it," I believe it is time to examine a few things about myself. 


Just to be abundantly clear, I have no interest in marriage at all right now. Sure, thanks to pinterest, my wedding is as extensively planned out as it will ever be, but that's for many, many, many (well actually, let's hope not TOO many) years off in the future. 


I'm actually the tiniest bit embarrassed to be writing about this.  So there's no shot whatsoever (whoops) that I'll be posting a link of this one onto facebook tonight asking you to read it.  If you happen to stumble upon this particular literary "treat" sometime in the distant future, just know that this post is happening because I stumbled upon THE LIST  (keep reading) in my journal, and I'm now turning it into a nice and lengthy blog post so as to put off writing my Art Psychology paper just a tad longer.  If you know anything about me, know that I like journals A LOT.  So having just filled my most recent one,  I skimmed through it, and lo and behold, as I said, there it was: 


the list

So what I am referring to is a list that I began when I met the boy that seemed so perfect that the only possible explanation for his existence was that he didn't grow up in this world.  He had to have gracefully descended down out of the sexy tree at the precise moment that I needed him to, having just had my heart and soul ripped out by aforementioned high school boyfriend. And since meeting this particular boy, the list has just grown and grown and GROWN.....and it goes a little something like this:

My boy must be:
  • An excellent conversationalist
  • Smart as can be
  • Skilled in learning foreign languages, so as to whisper sweet nothings into my ear that I can't understand, but give me butterflies nonetheless.
  • Play guitar/violin/piano/drums/ukulele/siiiiiiinnnnnnngggggggg, or a healthy combination of a few...or all. All would be nice.
  • Full of common sense, able to fix those stupid problems that I just can't quite figure out.
  • Has a plan and is motivated to be successful.
  • Able to beatbox.  I'm not entirely sure why this is so impressive.
  • A chef. Since I'm not.
  • Ready and willing to go hiking/camping/climbing/backpacking at a moment's notice.
  • Wanting to live on the east coast in an enormous vintage Victorian home, complete with a backyard dock with the most beautiful of sailboats waiting to sail me off into the horizon.
  • Interested in theatre. Because I demand to go see Les Misérables each and every time it comes into town.
  • A decent photographer, or at least willing to put up with the fact that I will photograph everything, literally, EVERYTHING that occurs over the course of our relationship.
  • Able to carry me across the Sahara desert.  I'm not asking that you be enormous.  In fact, I'm into skinny guys, as long as they are toned. That is a must.
  • An artist. Drawing, painting, sculpting, whatever.
  • Passionate about traveling and seeing the world
  • Wants to get out there and do humanitarian work just as much as I do. And if you already are in the habit of doing so, that's a plus.
  • Learned in movie trivia and willing to complete the entire IMDB top 250 with me.
  • Have as impeccable taste in music as I sometimes think I do. But really. If all you listen to is hip hop and/or country....dealbreaker. 
  • Very well-read and able to discuss books with me.
  • A low key super-nerd.  If I'm confident enough to admit that I love Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter far more than you would ever, ever possibly be able to understand, there is no conceivable reason why you shouldn't be able to do the same.
  • A spiritual giant, but on my same level. Able to give the most powerful and genuine testimony of the truthfulness of the gospel that one has ever heard, but able to understand that my favorite movies include Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Sweeney Todd, and other less-than-probably-acceptable movies, and that when I'm really upset about something, I can't promise that a few colorful words won't accidentally slip out, and that I used to have a cartilage piercing, and that I secretly really want some ink...and there's really nothing that will change that. Take it or leave it. I do love this Gospel!! Know that!!
  • Understanding that if he were to ever propose, my pathological need to document significant moments of life requires that the event be well-thought out, and that there is a hidden photographer.
  • A CLASSY DRESSER. 'Nuff said.
  • And the newest addition: Laura P and I have recently discovered and discussed the fact that we would appreciate it if our significant others had careers in which it is necessary to attend "functions" or "galas" or "benefits".  Whether he's a lawyer, politician, doctor, musician, the President, whatever, nothing would fill me with more feel-goods as when he looks me in the eye and says, "Dear, remember that so-and-so benefit that so-and-so company is throwing next Friday? Go out and buy yourself a nice new Chanel and a spa day to get ready." 
**Note: I'm really not as materialistic as this makes me sound.  All of these that involve lavish amounts are money are strictly fantasy.  As I said before, I love camping, biking, hiking, the outdoors.  I'm not afraid to get gross.

**But basically, what it comes down to is.........if you wrap up and send me either of the following, I think we're probably in business.





Now...the point of all this, you ask? The point is that this list is so long, and many are so, so not focused on what's really important.  Not to throw him under the bus, but I had an enormous realization recently that the first person I ever loved had maybe... two of these qualities.  Just two. And to this day I can say I've never connected so well with anybody in my entire life, and aside from that whole "rip out my heart and soul" few bad months of senior year, we still care about each other (almost) as much as we ever did, and we probably always will. In a much, much much much  different way now, of course. 

But nonetheless, why did it work out?  I was, by senior year, whatever "hipster" seemed to be back then.  (I hate that word by the way), but I was interested in Mumford when my friends liked Katy Perry, I legitimately did own one of the first pairs of TOMS to walk the halls of Keller High School, I thought copious amounts of makeup was for squares, and I carried "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" and "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius" and anything by C.S. Lewis down the halls instead of Twilight.

So how on EARTH did I fall in love with this skinny, washed-up Hollister boy who had the most impressive hair flip and the ugliest orange shoes I had ever seen, and who could care less about grades and had never even touched a Harry Potter book? 

That is because he was -all surface level qualities aside- the single most decent person I had ever met up to that point.  Such an endearing, caring, incredible person, even with his obvious lack of everything I thought I wanted. 
(**If you were wondering, I'm only telling this story to prove a point, not because of any lingering interest in said boy. Cross my fingers.  I promise.  But if any of you want to be set up with the coolest guy I know, he's a recent convert, just sayin' ;) )

So basically, hardly any of what I included on THE LIST even matters. If I didn't look so much like a truck right now, I'd show you that I'm ripping it up into 9,000 tiny little pieces.

i'm starting over

And all that I require is:
1) You still have to be attractive.  I'm sorry, that's just....it's always important.
2) A Mormon boy.  I mean, is that any surprise? And still on my same level, spiritually. Which is pretty high, but not self-righteous high.
3) A boy with a plan.  I mean, if you're an RM, you're 21 already.  Time to get it together. "Undeclared major?" still kind of a turn-off.
4) A clear understanding of the differences between -to, two, and too-, -their, they're, and there-, -you're and your- and -its and it's-
5) A snappy dresser would still be nice.
6) A clear understanding that I will never, under any possible circumstances, have any vested interested in sports.  If you can't extend your conversation beyond your high school football glory days or your fantasy team, no hope.

Personal scolding moment: Brittany, get your head out of the clouds and don't just make snap judgments about how people are before meeting them.  I know you're a psychology major and you're going to college to learn how to do just that, but this is vastly different.  You know that.  Grow up.

Anyway, there's my annoying and neverending stream of thoughts for this lovely first night of March. 

In other news, I had my first prep class for study abroad today! And a roommate!  Her name is Kelli, and I think she'll be awesome.

Time to stop talking and tackle that paper now.

In parting:
-I'm sorry, but is that not just the most darling thing you've ever laid eyes on?-

-all images courtesy of pinterest-

All my love, B

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