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Sunday, July 26, 2015

Lone Wolfing It for Father John Misty

On Thursday Night I finally got to see one of my favorite bands/humans perform at the Twilight Concert Series in Salt Lake City. I've been waiting to see Father John Misty for a solid three years, but last time he was in Salt Lake he played at a 21+ venue so I couldn't go. Devastation.

I saw his tour announcement a few months ago on Facebook and realized a specific date lined up with the Twilight Concert Series and was set to take place in Pioneer Park, so I knew he was going to be apart of the series before TCS announced it. I flipped out. $5 to see one of my favorite humans swing his hips, interact with the audience like I've never seen and sing some of my favorite songs? I'm in.

I lone-wolfed it to the concert since Dallon had work, but I didn't mind. After mulling over whether or not to invite someone else, I decided that I'd rather go to a concert with someone who knew the music rather than go and worry the whole time if they're having fun and feelin' it. So I went and a few seconds after I got there, the band came out. Then Josh Tillman took the stage and started it out with the first song on their newer album, "I Love You, Honeybear."

I lost my mind. Seconds into the second song I saw a glimpse of a familiar face pass me by and called his name. Alex Katich let me tag along with him and his pal even though I was dancing and singing to all of the songs, but they were feelin' Father John's hips as well so they were grooving too. I found some random strangers who were as excited as I was when Chateau Lobby #4 began and we sang the entire thing together. That was a highlight of this concert - because there were two headliners, it seemed like a third of the crowd didn't know much about Father John Misty - but two songs into it, he had everyone moving. Father John Misty's stage presence is unreal and everything I had heard of and hoped for. He dances like he knows everyone is watching, but couldn't care less. He uses the entire stage - backbending on one side, letting the audience touch him, grabbing an attendee's phone and performing a majority of "Bored in the USA" selfie-style, or shaking his hips while standing on the bass drum. He's witty, hilarious and his sincerity is undeniable when he sings certain lyrics - "I've said AWFUL things, such AWFUL things.."

Speaking of "Ideal Husband," that was their finale and I loved it. Everyone who knew his music was screaming the ending along with him. "I CAME BY AT 7 IN THE MORNING, 7 IN THE MORNING, 7 IN THE MORNING..."

I left the concert feeling fulfilled.

Sometimes I feel sad I don't ever get to meet and talk to the people face to face whose lyrics influence my entire days or pick me up when I'm pissed. It's weird feeling so connected to someone you've never actually met, and you long to have that connection with people you see day to day - but months of utter vulnerability and sincerity go into each song and I can't expect to feel that level of closeness with just any friend, you know? It's a weird desire that leaves you feeling like someone understands you and you had a really beautiful dialogue concerning how you feel, but you can't further the conversation. Hopeful other people feel the same way, but left searching for someone who can say it half as well so we can keep the dialogue going.

Anyway, here are a few pictures. I ended up getting much closer and centered, even - but listen to "True Affection" by Father John Misty and you'll see why I limited my phone use to a few seconds. I also recorded the first line of Morgan's and my favorite song because we usually scream the first part no matter what mood we're in. And I usually record a little something for him when he's not able to go, or call him during our favorite songs (when he wasn't a missionary).


 
 
I found this last picture online, my hands are the blurry ones without a phone, and I'm pretty sure that's what I looked like most of the time - in awe and so, so happy.

K see ya. 

Friday, July 24, 2015

A Sour Weekend in Shaver Lake

Because of my general dissatisfaction with where I'm at and who I am over the past few months, I was over-the-moon excited to travel to Shaver Lake to play water polo in an open water tournament. I didn't know any of my teammates because I was playing on a friend's team he put together randomly, but I was just happy to have a spot.

I decided I was going the night after I returned to Provo from Master's Nationals last month and bought cheap-ish tickets out of Las Vegas, which meant a six hour drive and quick plane ride and I'd be in Fresno. The long-term parking wasn't going to be cheap, though.

Alright. I just wrote out an extensive overview of what happened, and erased it all. Basically I paid 100 dollars for a flight, 70 for long term parking, and 70 to play in the tournament. A tournament where I babysat 30 sloppy drunk adults and sober drove them in the mountains so they could get pizza, and more drinks. And that wasn't fair to me. A majority of these adults made remarks that made fun of my choice not to drink, and my choice to be a Mormon, yet I was making sure they were taken care of and that they were safe. And I had to pay 70 dollars to do it.

The entire reason I went to the tournament was to do something I love - play water polo. That was the only reason. I wanted to immerse myself in the sport, in the one thing I feel totally confident in, but I couldn't do it because my teammates were too busy finding their next drink. Yeah, I'm frustrated.

I won't judge you for using your agency. I'll be frustrated when you judge me for using mine, then call me names and make fun of me. You don't remember because you were insanely drunk. If you choose to drink, that's your choice, but I've chosen not to do it. What concerns me the most is how quickly the choice to drink influenced the amount of care shown for other people. It made everyone so, so selfish.

I know people who drink occasionally. I also know people who drink quite a bit, but can control themselves. But I've never been around so many people who's main concern was "Where's my next beer?" and who have no concern for other people. There were a few kind gems, two of which I stayed with, and one who shared my name - but goodness. I've never felt so empty and uncared for. I can't imagine a life where a beverage or cigarette is at the center of it all.

At one point we were all in the woods trying to get back to the campsite after we parked the 15-passenger van I was asked to drive (If you know me as of late, you know how anxious I get when I'm asked to drive anywhere in my Corolla. Now imagine my situation). Someone sent a girl in the wrong direction because she was at a different camp than us, but I knew where her camp was, and realized it was NOT in the direction she was sent. After 5 minutes of trying to persuade a drunk girl to let me use her flashlight or come with me so she could light the way, I finally got to search for her. After ten minutes of the same girl I persuaded complaining "Why are we even looking for her? How the hell did you get my flashlight?" and other dumb phrases, I had to quit my search because she turned around and was going to leave me in the woods without a light. I couldn't believe it. The lack of concern for another human who was probably scared out of her mind without a light or an idea of where she was, was incredible.

The second night I started getting really sick with Crohn's symptoms, and it was only getting worse as time went on. After an hour and a half, I decided to leave. It wasn't worth it to play in games where most of my teammates were drunk anyway, or to stay when I was ill, or to stay when I was sick and was going to have to drive everyone around again. It simply wasn't worth it. One of the two kind people I stayed with drove me to Shaver Lake Pizza where I waited until Laura could pick me up again. Goodness, Laura was a saint to drive all the way up there, but I honestly couldn't handle another night. When I was waiting in the pizza place, I saw one of the guys from the camp who had been drinking (and was clearly drunk) park and pick up more beer at the gas station across the street. I couldn't believe it.

Monday before my flight, the guy who invited me to play on his team called and made a bunch of assumptions that were extremely incorrect about me and my intentions on coming to the tournament. I couldn't get a word in, and when I tried to, he assumed something else and kept going in his own little world. By the end of it all I just said alright, alright, alright, see ya and let him believe whatever he wanted. Clueless human. Very frustrating, clueless human.

I'm frustrated I invested so much in a tournament I seem to have only been invited to so I could be the sober driver. Now I know, though. Now I know.





Monday, July 13, 2015

Where Do I Stand and Which Way Am I Facing?

Don't skim this. Read this or don't at all, please.

This is my 277th? post.

It's weird, because I know this blog isn't read much by other people, but I find myself coming back to it often to keep track and write through the thickness in my mind.

That's always how it has worked for me - I've got to write to ultimately make sense of things.

I've gone through spurts where I wanted to post more consistently, but it always felt forced. So I still post when I want to, like I said I would in the very beginning. That feels good to me. I've also not deleted many posts. It's all a part of my story, and I've tried to be honest.

This also has never really been a fashion blog, which is funny because of the name. But style has always meant the manner in which I do things - not fashion style. I always wanted to feel golden, to have that shine through in what I do. It also worked because I lived in California forever. Now I just look back and try to reclaim those things that made me feel golden.

Life isn't meant to be enjoyed only in retrospect, but I've gotten into the habit of looking back instead of looking forward. It's easy - if I had that happiness, why can't I have it again by going back? I'm working on not doing that so much.

I read old journals yesterday because I knew my brother took 'em and wrote in them here and there. I wanted to reread those entries. He had some applicable things for me today.

"WHERE DO I STAND AND WHICH WAY AM I FACING? AM  I PROGRESSING? AM I WHERE I WANT TO BE? WHERE I SHOULD BE?"

I feel unsure about myself. It used to be entirely self-conscious-bodily-related, but now it's about who I am. I feel like I'm always trying to do the right thing, but question if I'm really, actually a good person. Have my values been mixed up? I know what's important for the most part, but those grey areas get to me. How am I supposed to progress if I don't know which way is up?

I know people feel lost at points in their lives, but I've felt lost for some time now. Caught up in the unimportant, then no longer caught up and feeling bad for not being caught up when I 'should' be.

But, saying 'should' is when things get dangerous.

Provo is really draining my soul. I've been here for a long time. Maybe I'll feel more important elsewhere, more needed? Will that make me feel like I'm progressing, though?

Try to find meaning in the day to day, try to find meaning in the day to day.


This new song by Youth Lagoon hit me a bit today. Give it a minute if you're not into slower songs - it picks up. Regardless, listen.

"Oh, everybody wants to think they're not what they eat. That their body's great.
Oh, everybody wants to think they're good at heart, when they're full of hate."

What am I really consuming - what is my mind consumed in, thinking about all the time without even realizing it. Why can't I progress. If I don't think about it, I remain troubled under a veil. But there's not really a solution to any of this. Yes, I keep my head up. I keep my head up. I'm trying to find meaning in the day to day but my body's not great - my mind is not great.

I want to think I'm a good person - but it's so easy to be the bad version of yourself. It's easy to think bad thoughts about myself or others. It's not easy to become a recluse because mentally it screws you over, but it's technically easy because all you have to do is stop reaching out. Takes less effort, you know? Takes less effort to be full of hate. And I know that it's wrong to become that way, but even when I'm trying to be good at heart I recognize what my initial thoughts are and I don't think I'm good. I wish I was kind hearted through and through.

Last disclaimer: I'm tired of sprinkling disclaimers that my husband isn't making me feel like this, that these are my issues and my dark times right now. So I'm not going to anymore. This is my last disclaimer - Dallon is golden. He doesn't make me feel bad. I love him a lot. And I'm hoping to get through these dark times quickly for him. I wish I can revert to my stronger self but I'm not her anymore, so I've got to find a newer version. I've got to search for things I used to know that made me the person I was happy being without getting stuck in the past.

That's what I'm dealing with right now. I know some people are concerned for me, but I'll come out better eventually. Thank you for your concerns. I'll keep moving and hopefully progressing at some point.

K, see ya.











Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Spewing

We can FIND joy. It takes some searching, which means it takes effort, but joy is attainable.

I got a nasty burn on the outside of my knee that blistered and popped from a bounce house. A BOUNCE HOUSE. I was working an event and the bounce house attendees didn't show up for work so I was put on bounce house/slide duty. Because I'm fun I guess? So I was helping a child down the inflatable slide for the third time when she pushed my knee down and it slid against the inflatable all the way down. YAAASSS THANK YOU CHILD.

I'm playing in an open-water water polo tournament at Shaver Lake two weeks and I'm looking forward to it big time. I've never really had a solid bucket list, but I know I've always wanted to do this.

My favorite thing is to see people doing what they love to do. I think people see that in me when I play water polo. I love everything from the second I jump into the water to when I prop myself up and onto the pool deck. The way I move the water under the surface and find a way to skull without expending almost any energy. I feel like I'm connected. I love every second.

I'm sad I didn't play officially in college. But I realize playing games with the guys is unique and taught me to play in a way a lot of other girls will likely never get the chance to - I feel like I've learned a lot. It's a strange tradeoff. I don't feel lucky other girls won't get the chance, I feel lucky I had the chance. If that makes sense.

Dallon is working hard at a group home, and I had to quit my internship for a few reasons. But things will look up.

I care about Dallon immensely.

My stomach problems and my thyroid are both acting up, which is not the business - usually it's one or the other, but nawt. these. days.

Morgan comes home in eight months-ish. Goodness, I miss him. <-- Understatement.

I get to see/hear one of my favorite bands play when I get back from my California polo trip. FATHER JOHN MISTY. If anyone in Salt Lake or Provo loves Josh Tillman as much as I do, let me know. I'd love a concert pal. Dallon will likely have to work.

I'm sorry if these don't seem worth it anymore. I'm trying to re-find my worth these days.

K see ya.




Thursday, June 25, 2015

Two Weeks

 



 



 
 


 
I went to Riverside for the Master's Nationals water polo tournament I've been looking forward to for three months, and it was BEAUTIFUL. To play other girls at a high level of competition is something I wish I could do every single day. Usually I'm playing co-ed at BYU, which is fun in its own right, but an all girl game is different.
 
(P.S. Dallon had to work, so he stayed in Provo)
 
From Riverside, we made our way to Clovis for the week (which ended up being a bit longer) for Sami's baby shower. My sister, mom, Laura and Sandy made it look so good. I'm not one for a lot of effort in the decoration department, but they did so much and you could see the love they put into it. I thought it looked great. I took a bunch of pictures but gave them to Sami to post so you'll probably see them soon ish.
 
The rest of my week was filled with friends and more water polo, my favorite things. One of my friends - the guy with the side bun - is moving to Maine, so this was the last time I'd see him for quite a while. Joseffe is the guy behind him in those pictures, and he's all about his girlfran Kat, so hopefully good things happen there.
 
I was able to attend a water polo clinic with a new friend I met at the Master's tournament, Greg. I learned a bunch of new drills that don't require goals or balls or much pool space - perfect for my team, who only get six practices a semester in the school pool (NOT COOL, BYU). Turns out Greg is a super nice guy, and I made yet another genuine friend in Clovis. It's weird how real friends pop into your life. I'm a fan of it.
 
Being with my mom and sister all week was refreshing and it made me feel very supported. Sometimes it's hard to be in Provo. Ok, all of the time it's hard to be in Provo. My two week trip made me feel like I can do hard things again, and that I'm not really as limited as I feel.
 
My mom is in town until Saturday, so we'll be partying until she leaves back to her good ol' state of 100% humidity. I'm glad she's my mom. I'm glad she drove with me across so many miles because she knew how anxious I get in bad traffic. She sacrificed a lot for us growing up and continues to do so, even when we're grown up. I think that's how I know my mom has always loved us through and through.
 
K see ya.