This just in: I'm not scared of guys anymore

I feel like this song from the new musical "Waitress" (with lyrics written by Sara Bareilles) describes my feelings about dating:

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oWjGpWMXCSE"When He Sees Me"

I have always gotten hung up on the "what if's" of life, especially when it comes to boys, but I never would think about the positive what-if's... what if he really isn't a crazy person? What if he is fun, and sweet, and caring, and not color blind? (That's my favorite line in the song, btw.) So, I let myself get comfortable. I let myself get complacent. I was happy with where I was, and what I was doing, and all the guys I wasn't kissing. That last one was a little sad. But when Tracie got married, (a lot of realizations happened then for me) I no longer had her as a constant companion for holidays, and trips, and regular Netflix watching. I got my dad to buy me a giant giraffe pillow pet (Gerard) that keeps me company, but he doesn't respond to my conversation and snuggles. The holidays, as I've already written, woke me up to how lonely I was, and I realized that the only person who could change that was me.

So.

I joined Tinder. Just to clarify, Mom, this was not your idea. ;) We all know that Tinder is not your typical manner of finding dates and lasting relationships, especially if "certain activities" are off the table. [I feel like now is a good time to tell you that my upcoming book will be titled "A Mormon on Tinder, and Other Oxymorons"] Known all over the world as the "hit-it-and-quit-it" app, I saw one friend not have great experiences with it. Flaky guys with stereotypical desires. I had another friend, one who shares the same spiritual beliefs that I do, who said she had experienced some of the best dates with guys on Tinder. I thought about it for a while, which made me want to vomit. Just thinking about talking to boys and then following through and dating them made me hyperventilate. I thought that while this process was not going to be perfect, or pretty, it would be a step in the right direction and would hopefully break down some of my walls. Like, maybe I'd stop referring to 30+ year-old guys as "boys".

"Fake it til you make it" became my motto. I signed up, played for a minute, hated it, deleted it. But then I realized that if I wanted to give it the old college try, I needed to commit. So, I played. I made some matches, I talked to several different guys and have gone on three dates (I have also gotten annoyed and deleted it one other time), but guess what? It's fun. I know, I know. . . I was surprised too. I mean, don't get me wrong, I have met a few interesting (read d-bag) fellas, but I have also met some really nice guys. In fact, I'm excited to go out with one this weekend; I might let you know how that goes. The the thing that has surprised me the most (besides how good I am at flirting) was that I started to care. I wanted to do my hair, and wear perfume, and go to the gym, and just be the best version of myself. I smile more and feel more confident, and it's awesome. I like it. Even if I were to delete the app (which I consider at least once a week), I feel confident that this new me is around to stay.

I'm excited about life. I'm excited about the future. I really like kissing. So, there you have it.

Love,

Kat 2.0

What I Really Want

Someone asked me a few weeks ago what I was looking for in a man. When he asked, I really didn't know how to answer. I mean, I had ideas, but didn't know how to put it into words. I'm a girl, so I've made a lot of these lists in my time. I have found, though, that my needs, or wants, have changed over the years. I no longer care about specific physical characteristics or romantic comedy notions; I want real life. I want to feel safe. I want to feel loved. I want to feel desired. I want imperfect, because I'm imperfect. We can learn and grow together.
So, here it is, for better or for worse.

• He will make me laugh, but create a safe space to cry.
• He will make me feel beautiful and sexy, but also inspire me to do the things that make me feel that way for myself.
• He will scrape the ice/snow off my car in the winter. This is purely because I hate it.
• He will be imperfect, and make mistakes, but know how to fix them.
• He will be kind. 
• He will work hard to take care of and provide for our family, just as I will do the same; different jobs, same purpose.
• He will be passionate about me, and life, and learning.
• He will take care of me because he wants to, not because he feels he has to.
• He will be faithful to God, to me, to the intrinsic beliefs that guide his soul. (Too deep for a blog?)
• He will want to be the best daddy he can be. 
• He will want to take me out and show me off, but snuggle me in my pajama pants while we watch TV. 
• He will protect me and I will feel safest when I'm in his arms.
• He will hold my hand, even when our palms get sweaty.
• He will inspire me to do better, and to be better, as I will do for him.
• He will sit by me in church. (I want to marry someone good, but not so good that I have to wrangle the kids by myself every Sunday. Kidding. Kind of. I'm selfish.)
• He will know that I will do all I can to be all of these things for him, and more; but only because I'm an overachiever, not because it's a competition. But if it was, I would probably win.

Why you so single?

I had a shirt that said this once, from the mission. A sister was asked this by an Asian friend and it became an inside joke. I think about it and giggle all the time. But it's a good question. I get asked this pretty frequently, without the sarcasm or pity or whatever, but usually as a "I don't understand why you're not married" kind of thing.

Which is a great question. I think I know the answer though. One of my favorite romcom movies is "The Wedding Date". It's kind of trashy but I really love it. There is a scene where the love interest says in an article that he believes that every woman has the love life she really wants, to which the main character asks if he really believes she wants to be single and miserable. He responds that when she's ready, she'll let go and move on. Her dad later brings this article up to her, not knowing it was written by the love interest, and says that he refuses to believe that this is what she really wants. . . which brings me to me.

Why am I not married? I always say it's because I'm scared of boys, but really, I'm scared of being hurt by boys. As long as I am the one keeping myself out of the dating game, I am safe. I am protected. I'm not being rejected because I'm awkward and nervous and say the wrong things. I am comfortable. Sure, I'm lonely sometimes and I watch a lot of CSI and go to movies by myself (don't feel bad for that, it's awesome--I never have to wait for someone to see what I want to see) but I'm used to it, I can deal with it. It's gotta be easier than talking to guys, right?

Then Tracie got married. I didn't have a safety net anymore. Things got really real when she moved to Israel for Kevin's school. I can't even begin to explain how much I miss her. I was so nervous about Christmas, because I knew that it would make it all too real, and show me how "single" I really am. And it was hard. I mean, my family is amazing and loving and fantastic. I have the greatest parents and siblings and babies and they love me and I love them. I have phenomenal friends. One of them, who is really good at saying it like it is, when I had sent her a text about being lonely and hating the holiday and Israel, said this: " You know this isn't just Israel and the holiday. You want a family of your own and unfortunately that means you have to put yourself out there to find a partner." Which is the truth. I hate it when other people are right.

So, I can do hard things, right? I joined Tinder. Don't tell my mom because she'll think it was her idea. I never wanted to join the T because of the stigma it has... it is the "hit it and quit it" app. An easy way to find easy friends, not what you use to find lasting relationships. Then a friend told me that some of the best dates she has been on were from Tinder. I decided it would be good practice, a good way to talk to guys, go on a few dates, realize that it doesn't need to be as scary as I think it is, and then, well, I don't know the next step; cross that bridge when I get there.

I'm normally a very independent person, but dating brings out all the crazy in me. I think too much, I doubt my choices, I can no longer pick out my own clothing. I have to call my sisters and talk through everything. I process conversations with my friends because I just can't deal with it on my own. Seriously, the stress level of the last three weeks has been, like, ridiculous. I have to take the Nyquil to sleep or I lay awake and think all night. But I've been brave. I've set up dates, I've talked to three nice guys. One, going through a divorce, I hope will text me when it's final; my dad would like his beard. One took me to the shortest dinner I've ever had but then had to go grocery shopping, which is now a great story. One I've just been texting, but think we could have fun if we ever really meet. Can I just say, though, that it's amazing to me what an impact "just texting" can have? I have a total Pavlovian response every time my phone chirps that I have a text. I've had to literally turn off the sound on my phone at night so I sleep instead of wait for a text (which I should add sometimes happens with Tracie, but whatevs.) I mean, I love words. I love the power of words. I always loved emailing or texting guys because I felt I could be funny and flirty and intelligent without the awkwardness of real-life situations, but it presents other difficulties. It's hard to read emotion in texts, which is where I start to re-think ev-er-y-thing. . . will he know I'm kidding? Will he think I'm making fun of him? Wait, I should clarify... Oh, I should say this...I think I'm hilarious, but he's on the other side of the phone being really confused. . . Or annoyed. Or... or... or... Then I have to wait for a response. And it makes me crazy. So I have to call my sisters. Or take up drinking. I've already deleted Tinder once out of frustration, which was annoying when I had to go back and re-do the bio that was annoying to write in the first place. . . 500 characters to explain why you're worth somebody's time. I'm telling you. Boarding the train to crazy town.

The point is, this is so, so scary, but I can do it. I know I am worth somebody's time. I have a lot of skills. I'm a great catch. I'm funny, and smart, and compassionate, and talented, and loving, and beautiful, and if I just remember these things, and remind myself that I won't be a citizen of crazy-town forever, it'll get easier. Right?

hashtagitsagoodthingikickedetheicecreamhabit

Who doesn't want to be stronger?

I have been wanting to blog about this boot camp that I've been doing but have just kept putting it off, so here it is! I heard about Carrie Cox from my friend Becky in January and I was in desperate need of a swift kick in the pants. I was a little nervous going into it because 98% of the chicas there were pretty little to begin with and were there to tone up or lose those last stubborn few. There were only a couple times that I really felt discouraged, but then I had to realize that we all struggled in whatever situation we were in, and every day I was getting stronger. The frustration and inability to do a "burpee" would all lead toward bettering myself, and soon (translation: many weeks later) I was jumping on top of boxes and doing cartwheels. It hasn't always been easy, but it has been easier than I thought it would be.
Since mid January, I have lost 12 inches and 20 pounds. I'm sad to say that it hasn't been more in the last three weeks, I don't why I slack off after I hit a goal. But I am eating better, being more active, stretching and thinking more positively. I am craving better foods more often than the bad ones. Let's be honest, though; I still visit Cafe Rio frequently and haven't quit ice cream altogether, but I am making better choices when I partake. Did you know that you can have a delicious grilled chicken tostada from the Rio for less than 600 calories? I promise. [no shell/tortilla, rice, beans, grilled chicken, lettuce, pico, lime wedge, add guacamole and just half (1 oz) of dressing. You're welcome.] [And it's cheaper than a salad and you don't want to die after.]
Guys, I used to get really offended when I would be around thin people who would complain about feeling or looking "fat." Or when someone who looked perfect to me would talk about wanting to lose just 10 pounds. But then I grew up and realized that we are all unhappy with our own imperfections, regardless of what others may think of us. Someone who is a size 8 may be just as unhappy as someone who wears twice that. The difference is knowing how to love and accept yourself. Doing what makes you feel better, healthier, stronger. Am I completely happy with where I am physically right now? No, but I know that I'm working hard to becoming healthy, treating myself better, and becoming stronger every day. I credit Carrie for helping me to reach a mindset that allows me to see that I deserve better, that I can be better.
Carrie is opening her own training space, and I'm super excited for her. SLC Fit Collective will be a place that I know will have great energy, because that is what she exudes. Is this getting cheesy?  I mean it. And I'm really excited it's closer than Sandy. You should go with me sometime, I dare you.
I still can't do a real burpee, but I'll dazzle you by the end of the summer.

This is last years tri. Women of Steel is next weekend. I'm excited. I'll put up pictures.

So I went on a blind date.

I knew you'd see that title on your blog roll and drop everything. But I did. I went on a blind date. And it was a doozy.

His name is Jeff. Don't get me wrong, he is a really nice guy. And my roommate who set me up? She's nice too. I did not kick her out. I may or may not have flipped her off. But I repented and apologized. So here are the deets.

Long story short, my roommate set me up with a friend from her singles ward. Somehow, I didn't catch on when she said she didn't think I would like him, but our ideas of what we think is attractive are pretty different. I honestly don't know how I missed her sarcasm or facetiousness but she did try to warn me and I guess I just really wanted to go on a date. I don't know what happened or at what point I lost control of my faculties. So I had a date.

Caitie set it up and told me Jeff would pick me up on Friday at 6. Since it was a blind date, she and another friend setting us up made the executive decision that we should go dutch, he would plan and pay for the activity, I would be in charge of dinner. She thought I could make dinner or something. But I don't make dinner unless I'm trying to impress somebody, so he got to choose between Cafe Rio and Five Guys.

He picked me up around 6:10. Picture a 6'2 Harry Potter. He carried a box of cookies. I never know how much shooting of the breeze should happen before we leave, so I ushered us out the door. I think he was probably confused. He chose Rio, which is always the right choice. He was very polite and opened the door for me. His car was quiet, I learned later that he would rather pay attention to the roads and drivers around him. (He is from L.A. and finds Utah drivers suck. Which is true.) We got dinner, I paid, again he seemed a little confused and when we sat down I asked if they hadn't told him of the "dutch" arrangement. I don't recall him answering. Thinking back, I think he was extremely nervous or generally awkward. It could also be that he is very indecisive (of his own admission) and my quick decisions and actions may have been disconcerting to him. My favorite line from our dinner conversation:
me: "It's just funny how dependent on technology my students are. . . "
him: "Yeah. . . .I bet back in the day. . . . .they were like. . . . .why are you spending so much time with that handcart?"
cricket. . . .cricket. . . .
me: "haha. . .yeah. . .those self-sustaining farms. . . ."

Anyway. Towards the end of dinner, I asked what time the improv show was that we were going to, and he said "well, we found out it isn't until 10:15." It was currently 6:45. I waited a few minutes and then excused myself to go to the restroom, where I called Caitie. I had almost run out of questions over dinner, so I demanded she and the friends she was at dinner with return home and play games with us, or it would surely be an eternal three hours. She said they'd come when they were done eating.

We decided to go to my house and play a game. We broke out the Scrabble. I was game, I love me some Scrabble. I was nicer than when I play with my family, accepting and following his interesting point techniques (I put down "Jew" on a triple word box and got 39 points. He put an 's' down and got 45. That's not legal.) I didn't question some of his words but drew the line at 'ret.' "How would you use it in a sentence?" I asked. "I don't know." "Then you can't use it as a word." I replied. Seemed logical.

We used every single tile except six. I don't know if I've ever done that. Of course, we did play for two hours. There was a lot of thinking and quiet involved, but we had some tunes playing that broke up the silence like a champ. I will have you all know that I won by 22 points. I was extremely proud of myself. Caitie and her friends got to the house towards the end of the game, and we played a couple games of Uno and Chutes and Ladders. It was a good time.

Finally we went to the improv show at The Empress Theater in Magna. I was pleasantly surprised, it was much better than I thought it would be. It was also free, since it was held upstairs instead of in the actual theater. After intermission it got kind of long and drawn out; that's the problem with a lot of improv shows/sketches, they don't always stop when they should. If it's not working, end it. It was a long show and didn't get over til around midnight. On the drive home, after a few comments, I ran out of questions to ask and we drove the last five minutes in complete silence. Total and complete silence. It was so funny to me. When he walked me to the door, I thanked him and gave him back his cookies. He said he brought them because he had heard I was making dinner and he thought he would bring a contribution. He really was a nice guy, I just think he probably hasn't had a lot of social opportunities.

The end.

Welp. Big Gulps, Eh?

Sorry. I won't even offer excuses. It's just real pathetic.

The last time anyone blogged from this computer was obviously the post Tracie did regarding her love of "Little House." Who can criticize that?

Tracie turned 20. What the??? She was really excited that I came up for the big day.

She was even more excited I brought up this beauty from Grandma's house.

Her friend (I think Talia?) made this delicious cake which we sat around with forks and devoured. After the little munchkin boy was removed.

She had a killer party attended by many. The "event page" on Facebook featured this amazing picture of MJ and ET. I used all my creative juices and iron-on transfers to make this piece of work. Then I left it at my house. I was crushed. But she still liked it. Who wouldn't?

Brayden got baptized. I cannot believe my buddy is 8! It's crazy.

Tracie had a dance concert. It was phenomenal. I drove up with Mom, Dad and Laura and we stopped at Cafe Rio and it was delicious. A lovely evening had by all.

Tracie got a boyfriend. His name is Kev-Kev. Or Kevmeister. Or Kevilicious. Or just Kevin. He's a nice young man. Sorry I didn't fix their red eye.

I'll try to post again before it's been three months. No promises, Laura.

Crazy school antics

I know. Wasn't I supposed to be blogging more? Oh well. I'm just too busy being super awesome. Here are a few recent stories (ps I will always change students names because I like my job):

The other day at the beginning of 4th period I commented that everyone was there and started to clap. A few clapped along and then one boy kept going after we had all stopped. Because that's hilarious, right? So I said, "Fitzwilliam, I bet you couldn't clap all period."
"Yes I could!" he responded, still clapping.
"I bet you won't make it ten minutes."
"Yes I can!"
And he did. For 50 minutes straight. While reading the part of Capulet in "Romeo and Juliet." It was awesome. I gave him a candy bar and wished him good luck at wrestling practice.

***

So. Romeo and Juliet. Act 2 scene 2. The Balcony Scene. So perfectly ridiculous. After we read, we watched the scene from the 1968 version. So cheesy. Click here if you need a refresher.
After that, we watched the scene from the 1996 adaptation for a comparison. I like this one much better, probably because Leo is much cuter than the 1968 Zac Efron. Click here to see that scene.
Anyway. We were watching the second clip in one of my classes. One of my students, we'll call him Wilhelm, said, "I'm going to take notes on how to make out." We all laughed. But when it was over and I was walking to the front of the room I took his notes off his desk. I read a few, laughed out loud, and proceeded to read them to the class:
Make Out Notes (yes it had a title)

• Stalk her (creeper)
• Learn how to hold breath
• Make it sexy
• Make out for 20 seconds
• Nice and slow
• Make out a second time
• Tell her how much you love her
• Kiss on the neck and slowly make your way down
• Kiss goodnight
• Almost get caught

I should note that after a full day of balcony making-out, I had my own make out dream that night. I won't lie, it was a good one. At one point I walked up to my special friend (in the dream, don't get excited) and planted a good one on him. He seemed confused and asked what day it was because he didn't remember it being a holiday. I asked him if it had to be a holiday for me to kiss him like that. Yeah. I have the moves. I'm pretty sure I got a proposal as well. Who wouldn't after a move like that? I should probably try that one in real life.

***

And from today (which I put as my status on Facebook): if you already read it, consider this post over.

Third period came around and I just wanted a break from the Romeo and Juliet madness. I was just shooting the breeze and Newsies on Broadway came up. (Really, it is back on for 12 weeks!) One student said that the only musical he had ever seen was "High School Musical." Disgraceful. I pulled that screen right down and we watched Newsies. All period. It was awesome.

I really really love my job.