Resolutions

When I was a little girl my best friend, Calee, used to tell me I was perfect. 

p e r f e c t 

I began to hate the word perfect.  She meant it as a compliment.  Occasionally a method of teasing.  But generally a compliment.  However, for some reason I hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it.  Hated it so much that in fact one day I had a small freakout and told her all about how much I absolutely hated it when she called me perfect.  (poor poor Calee... I don't know how she has put up with me the past sixteen years)

For awhile I couldn't decide why I hated being called perfect.  I mean a compliment is a positive thing.  And ultimately being perfect was the highest compliment out there.

For years I figured it was because I must hate to be complimented.  Honestly complimenting can be a very awkward thing.  It generally results in me disagreeing as the complimenter has to insist for several minutes that I am in fact wearing a darling outfit.  I am not quite sure why I feel the incessant need to disagree with almost every compliment I receive.  It could be because I feel awkward when I become the center of attention orrrr… perhaps I am a tad more ego centrical than I think I am and I actually do love hearing the compliment over and over again.  Eek.  No matter what the motive is, it is ridiculous, time-consuming, and tiring so therefore this year RESOLUTION #1 is to become more gracious and simply say "thank you" when confronted with a compliment.

RESOLUTION #2 comes from my hatred for perfection.  My hatred for the word has been plaguing me since I was child but oddly enough it wasn't until last year that I finally realized why I truly hate the term "perfect."

2013 came with the brilliant resolution to write in my journal every single night.  Every single night.  I did amazingly well for the first few months.  Instead of writing in a regular paper journal I started a private blog.  This way there were no scratched out, smeared pen marks that would drive me absolutely insane.  Reducing my paper and white-out use significantly.  I could easily include pictures and I became very proud of my perfectly documented year.  Then summer hit and I actually began to regain my social life leaving me less time to write and that's about when things started going south.

I missed a day.  And when I sat down two days later to write I couldn't stand the fact that I had missed a day.  Couldn't stand it.  It made my skin crawl because it seemed I had in a way failed.  So I came up with a clever idea to solve my failure.  I began backdating my entries.  That way it appeared that I had never missed a day.  Genius.

  It worked until about the fifth time I had to do two entries in one day.  It was becoming such a chore to sit down every other day and come up with two, or three, or in some cases four journal entries.  And the more I began to dread it, the more days I missed because I didn't want to deal with the daunting task of making-up what had become a whole week of journal entries.  And about two months into summer I finally gave up.

A couple months later I opened back up my failed journal-blog-resolution-gone-wrong and realized that  the issue wasn't missing a day, the issue was... myself.

I am a perfectionist.  Not to be confused with being perfect.  Rather I am OCD and a tad controlling (if you couldn't tell from my above rant about pen smears and scratch outs)  Because who honestly cares if you make a mistake and have to scribble it out?  I can tell you who does… sadly this girl right here.

Now sometimes being a perfectionist is great.  For example, I get really good grades because I can't handle getting a poor score.  But when it comes to other things like journal entries or scripture reading I fail miserably.  Because when I miss a day… my perfect goal is crushed.  And when my perfect goal is crushed I get ridiculously bugged by it and can't stand to even think about my failure causing me to completely abandon the goal and pretend it never happened… Real healthy.  Not

 So this year my RESOLUTION #2 is to not be perfect.

To be okay with not having things go exactly my way.  To be a little less controlling.  To lessen my expectations just a tad.  To appreciate the mistakes.  And to love my failures for what they have taught me.

  So here's to the most imperfectly perfect year yet.  A year of less stress, more pen scratch outs, and weeks where I go without posting on this blog.  (Yes I am justifying my lack of writing with my resolution)

And here's one last shout out to that one chick up top that has always been my number one fan.  Calee Kay.  Thanks for putting up with my perfectionism.  Love you to the stars and back.

Dancing with Fire

I've been waiting for it to hit...  For it to finally click that I am engaged.  Engaged to my very favorite person on the planet.  But a week later it still feels so surreal.  Considering the amount of times I am glancing down at my left hand everyday you would think I would have realized.  But I still wake up every morning feeling as surprised and giddy as ever that there is a shiny perfect ring staring back at me.

We had picked it out over a month ago.  A month of secret keeping.  A month of not-so-patiently waiting.  A month of begging.  Begging to see it.  Begging for clues.  The only clue I got was "snow."  He said it had to be snowing.  I naively believed.  I accepted the fact that I probably wouldn't be engaged until Christmas break.  I got excited about how magical a Christmas engagement could be.  And I completely let my guard down.  Silly silly girl.  Smart smart boy.

Now before I tell the rest of our story we have to rewind.  Rewind to April.  A few weeks before our first date.  We were all at Andrew's house sitting around a fire roasting marshmallows and chatting.  Somehow the fact that Andrew could fire knife came up and of course we begged him to show us.  I had never seen fire knifing before and to say the least I was very impressed.  As I sat completely mesmerized watching him toss and spin the burning knife, one of my very best friends, Jane, leaned over and whispered, "oh my gosh Beth you should go for him." I quickly replied no, no he was totally off limits.  He was one of my best friend's older brothers.  But nonetheless the boy who could make fire dance had caught my eye.  And when he called a few weeks later asking me on our first date I was hardly excited.

Now fast forward.  Back to November 30th.  (my now favorite day of the year)  We were sitting on the porch waiting for my family so that we could go down to the  beach for a little fire spinning show.  It was nothing out of the normal.  He had done it once before for my family and my mom was determined to get it on film this time.  As we waited, he practiced and I watched.  And without a clue of what would happen next I reminded him that "his first fire spinning show was what caught my eye."  He just smiled.  Probably stoked out of his mind about how perfectly my comment fell into the plans for the night.

He did his show on the beach.  Not only was my family watching but a crowd of bystanders had gathered to watch on the boardwalk.  As he spun I was completely preoccupied trying to get a good picture that I had been insisting he should instagram.  He ended and still clueless I became worried that his one-knee ending had gotten him stuck.  When he called me over I went over with every intention of helping him get up without scorching his legs off.  But instead out came a little black box.  My mind went b l a n k.  I was taken completely off guard.  As usual NOT what I had planned.  "Elisabeth, will you marry me?"  The world seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time.  Instant tears, a "yes," more tears, a few screams, and even more screams.

And now I am engaged.  To my very best friend… the boy who made fire dance.

To watch a video of our proposal click the following link…

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0pWx7N4s40

                   

Rock Around the Clock

This weekend we got to shower one of my very best friends, Anna Winterton… soon to be Hansen.   

She is a stunner and I cannot wait to see how amazingly fabulous she will look on her wedding day.  Love love this lovely lady.  

We decided to throw Anna an "Around the Clock" shower and it turned out darling.  We began by assigning each girl that was invited a time.  Each girl was then supposed to buy a gift that coordinated with the time they were assigned.  Now let's by honest... not very many of us stuck to our times but assigning times definitely inspired some gift creativity and I loved hearing how each girl justified that their gift fit with their time.  

I was in charge of invitations, decorations, and the video.  One of my other very best friends, the lovely Taylor Watts, was in charge of party gifts and food.  The gifts were witty and the food was to DIE FOR.  Thank you Mama Watts.  Taylor also added a final touch that made the entire shower twenty times better… a board of awkward photos from Anna's awkward days.  Nothing but laughs and some much needed reminiscing on our Jr. High days.

The invitations… that I was far too proud of…     

Clocks on clocks on clocks

The most darling party gifts.

 My banner… another proud moment… 

A menu consisting of fresh fruit, HOMEMADE rolls, a fabulous gluten free salad, and brownies galore.  YUM YUM YUM

Our lovely party guests. 

21 fabulous girls who came to celebrate Anna Banana's decision to get married.  

And last but not least… my favorite shot of the night.  The hosts with the lovely soon-to-be bride.  We love you Anna Bear.

  

Next up… BACHELORETTE  PARTY... 

s.i.x.

Six months ago today Andrew kissed me for the first time on top of a jeeping trail called Hell's Revenge in Moab.  I know that sounds a tad redneck but it was honestly the most perfect kiss to ever exist.  It was what I like to call a "movie moment."  

We jeeped up to the peak of the trail and climbed up to sit on top of the roof of his jeep to watch a lightning storm out in the distance lighting up the silhouettes of the arches.  It was breathtaking and it left both of us almost speechless.  The world was completely silent and it felt like we were the only two people on planet earth.  I could have sat there for hours.  It was just one of those moments you never want to end.  And then the next thing I knew he looked at me, grabbed my face and kissed me.  Instant 

b u t t e r f l i e s.  

Ever since that first kiss I've been falling for him.  And even though I think each day I am really really in love with him, I am surprised the next day because I end up loving him even a little more than the day before.  

So to celebrate six months of a ridiculously sappy Beth I thought I would be sappy yet again and share SIX things I love about Andrew… 

1.  He's my biggest fan.  He supports me in just about everything I do.  He's the first and probably most faithful reader of this blog.  He is continually encouraging me to do what I love.  To him, the sky is my limit and he will be behind me in whatever I want to do.

2.  He's a hard worker.  He is always working on a project.  And not only is he always working but he is always doing everything he does one hundred percent.  He never does something half way.  It's all or nothing.  

3.  He's willing to make my dreams come true.  I wanted a Harry Potter party.  He built me Hogwarts.  He goes above and beyond to have a good time and to make sure I am happy.  

4.  He's tone deaf.  I love that someone else can sing as off key as I do.  Car rides with us is a real treat and I  love that he is willing to sing just as loud as I do.  

5.  He can make me laugh.  And it's not just dumb humor.  He's witty and clever which I love.  I love clever people.  I also love that he can laugh at his own mistakes and the hilarious things that seem to be always going wrong in our life… aka spills, falls, and just about every other clumsy thing possible.    

6.  He's still a child.  He likes animated movies almost as much as I do.  He is always down for a practical prank.  And he has an equally wild imagination.       

Six things I love, to celebrate six of my very favorite months.

s.i.x.

Spooky Sushi

This Halloween we decided to stay in and if I do say so myself, it was one of our better ideas.  We decided to make sushi, deep-fry every possible thing we could find in Spencer's house, and watch the ever famous… Hocus Pocus.  Best night ever.  

If you haven't made sushi I highly recommend you do.  Even if you don't enjoy sushi there is something so liberating about making a perfectly rolled roll that looks just like the sushi chefs' creations.  Although not everyone in the group had faith… (everyone ate before except me… such doubters)… it turned out fabulous and it was fairly easy.     

All you need is…

 >> white rice <<

>> a little bit of vinegar to make the white rice sticky<<

>>bamboo rollers<<

>>seaweed paper<<

(bamboo rollers and seaweed paper can be purchased at any Chinese market)

>>fish, vegetables, mayo, and lots of sriracha sauce<<

First cook the rice.  I recommend doing it in a rice cooker.  Then add just a little bit of vinegar.  Mix it in while the rice is still hot and make sure it covers most of the rice.  After the rice has cooled a bit pack down a thin layer of rice on your bamboo roller.  The rice should be about the size and shape of your seaweed paper.  Make sure it is a THIN layer.  Too thick and it will all fall apart.  If the rice is still really sticky, wet your hands with a little bit of water and continue packing.

  

Next place the seaweed sheet on top of your rice.  Then place your fish, vegetables, and whatever else you want in your roll near the edge of the seaweed paper.  You probably want to leave about an inch between the edge of the seaweed paper and where you place the filling.  Then roll.  Roll tightly.  After each roll carefully peel off the bamboo roller and continue until completely rolled. Top with a mixture of the mayo and sriracha sauce.  Then cut with a sharp, wet knife.

  

The sushi was fabulous but the deep-frying was even better.  Deep fried bananas topped with ice cream and carmel,  deep fried oreos (they may sound gross but they are TO DIE FOR… I am now a firm believer in them and I am looking forward to Sporty's Sweets that will be selling them next summer), and ice cream.  Yes, deep fried ice cream.  Healthy?  No.  Delicious?  HECK YES.  

Fabulous food.  Fabulous people.  Best night ever.   

Colorado Class

Classy: /ˈklasē/ adjective 1. Stylish and sophisticated synonyms: stylish, high-class, superior, exclusive, chic, elegant, smart, sophisticated, upscale, upmarket, high-toned. 

The Menloves have mistakenly given me the label of "classy."  One of the higher compliments I have receieved because honestly... I am not the classiest individual out there... (see example below) 

Yes...  I bought that.  And yes I am the extremely PROUD owner of that.  And yes we will probably wear them to the next University of Utah game... the humans sitting behind us will undoubtedly hate us but I need to get some use out of that well spent eighteen dollars.

     I have these moments in life where I truly do want to be classy.  Or what I consider classy in my head.  The perfectly-messy-hair-jcrew-outfit-clever-comments-little-black-dress kind of classy.  The kind of classy you see in magazines.

However, I also have these moments in life where I realize I should have been born a redneck.  The wanna-drive-a-pick-up-truck-wear-my-awful-oversized-flannel-and-eat-chile-lime-spitz moments.  It probably doesn't help that I am dating an even bigger wanna-be-redneck.

So am I classy?  Or am I redneck?  I can't quite decide.

This fall break I got to spend a few days in Colorado with the Menloves.  And as I like to say it was a real hoot.  (saying the word hoot probably makes me automatically unclassy) But honestly it was a fabulous weekend.  A weekend filled with hikes, gorgeous drives, ghost-town explorations, fabulous food, clothing-optional hot-springs, (no we didn't participate in the nudeness and sadly no I don't have pictures from that little experience but let me tell you it was a tad scarring...some people shouldn't be allowed to be nude... ever) and let's not forget those bison hats.  Pure class if you ask me...  

And that's when it hit me.  I had never thought of "class" as an subjective term.  But the more I thought about it the more subjective it became.  Class is superior, exclusive, and upscale.  And if I consider those fabulous bison hats to be superior, exclusive, and upscale then they are classy to me.

So maybe in a weird round about way being a little bit redneck is classy.  And maybe in a weird round about way I am trying to say... who cares if you are classy compared to the world's standards because you are you and that's classy in and of itself.

And now just a few of my favorite pictures from the classiest of trips with the classiest of families.

How cute is this little thing?  Absolutely fell in love with her and the rest of the Longson family.  We fed her far too much ice cream but how can you resist a face like that?

-beth

Quite Like You

I am a people person.  I love people and I love being surrounded by people.  However, I am also a firm  believer in alone time.  In fact I used to thrive on alone time.  I used to demand alone time.  Key word being "used."  

Last year I nannied one of my favorite families for a week while their parents were out of town.  It is one of my very favorite jobs not only because I adore ADORE their family but also because once the kids are at school I get the whole house completely to myself.  Perfect for my coveted alone time.  My time to write.  Think.  Meditate.  Sing at the top of my lungs or dance around the kitchen island.  Just my time.  

This September I once again began a week of my favorite job, however, my first morning I was met with a completely unexpected surprise.  As I sat eating my breakfast in complete silence and solitude I realized I was somehow totally miserable.  An honest outrage because generally an uninterrupted breakfast by myself is one of my very favorite things.  For a few minutes I couldn't put my finger on it.  Why in the world I was so miserable.  And then it hit me...  I was lonely.  A somewhat foreign feeling for the firm-believer-thriver-and-demander-of-at-least-one-hour-of-alone-time-everyday.  But I was lonely and antsy and I could blame it on no one other than Andrew.  

Quite honestly he has turned me into a total fruit.  He's turned me into that sappy girl I used to hate.  The girl I said I would never be.

I used to loathe PDA (public display of affection).  Even holding hands made me feel extremely uncomfortable.  I would carry five different things in both hands just to avoid it.  Now... I seem to be holding Andrew's hand just about everywhere we go.

The worst part is I miss him whenever I am not with him.  In fact, I can't stand being alone these days.  I have to be with him.  From the very second I say goodnight I start missing him.  And when I wake up I am grumpier than ever because once again...
I am  m i s s i n g him
I am missing him all dang day long.  At class.  At work.  While I run errands.  Missing, missing, missing him.  As I said... I have become a TOTAL fruit.

This weekend Andrew went camping and to my horror I realized I was babysitting and wouldn't be able to attend.  Meaning... a WHOLE night without him.  Which is kinda a big deal because I haven't gone a night without him since we started dating.  (Besides two weeks of vacations this summer.)  To say the least I was really really dreading Friday night... Okay I am being a tad dramatic, it honestly wasn't that bad.  I had a grand time with my Cal girl.  But once again, all things aside, I ended the night... missing him.  But this time twice as much as normal because I went a WHOLE ENTIRE day without him.  

This weekend inspired a poem.  The first poem of a new series of shorter poems.  A series I like to call "Between the Rhymes."  A new series from a new Beth.  A hold-his-hand-everywhere-we-go-alone-time-hater-always-want-to-be-with-him-completely-in-love Beth.