Here's the deal about me

If anyone may even think that getting married isn't responsible because I'm young, let me explain something to you.

Just in 2013 I lived away from home in a city I hated, my parents got divorced, I was sued for something completely ridiculous, I got engaged, my Father passed away, and I booked a wedding date for 4 months from now, which everyone says is an impossible amount of time to plan a wedding in.

I've been through literally everything. Substance abusing parent? Yeah, it's most likely what my Dad died from. Divorced parents AND a deceased one? Within months from each other. Being sued at age 20? Yep.

And guess what? I'm so incredibly excited for my wedding. I deserve this so much. For everything I've dealt with, I deserve a husband to take care of me.

Regarding denial and it's effects, and a word of love for my Father

Why denial is so harmful, a word of caution.

I’ve lived with my Dad my entire life. My mom has lived with him for the past 25 years. We’ve seen it all. We’ve seen the overdoses, the accidents, everything. We’ve prepared for his passing for years. My Dad’s family however, his parents and sisters, have been in utter denial about his problems. When asked to help in getting him to rehab, they ignored us. When my Mom pleaded with them to go visit him and check on him, urging them that he shouldn’t be living alone, they refused.

Now my Dad has passed on. And it’s taken me less than 3 days to accept that. Like I said, I’ve been preparing forever. But the people who were so unwilling to help, because they believed that their own problems were much greater? They are devastated. How did this happen? In shock. Utter disbelief. And we’ve been telling them all along.

I mean, I’m grateful to my Dad. If he had to die this early, then at least he prepared me well. I made my peace with him. He knows that I love him. If he didn’t know when he died, then he knows after me asking God several times to tell him.

When people say that they have a problem, or when others say that someone has a problem, believe it. Don’t ignore it because it’s too difficult to think about. Don’t ignore it because you don’t think it matters. It may save their lives, and it may save yours from being in crippling disbelief when something inevitable happens.

I love you so much Dad. You’ve done a lot of stuff that I had a hard time with, but your heart was always in the right place. Even if it took a divorce to get you to come to terms with some things, I’m so grateful that you did. In my mind, making that peace was what allowed you to move on.

I’m so sorry that you couldn’t be at my wedding in person. But I know you’ll still be there. Max did really want to ask you for my hand, things just got in the way. But I know that you loved him like your own son, and that you would have done anything for us to be happy and taken care of. And you did. We’re going to be able to afford the most beautiful wedding ever.

I struggled for a long time with meaning the words “I love you". And now I wish that you could hear them a million more times. I really really do love you. Thank you for becoming the Father I always wanted, even if it was only for a few months.

 -Holly

Regarding the dreams I have most often

My dreams have become increasingly disturbing to me. Because they have been continuous for years. I don't put a lot of stock into dream meanings, but when you've had the same kinds of dreams for essentially your whole life, I'm starting to wonder about my subconscious.

The first kind involves missing something important. Either by oversleeping, or just forgetting about it entirely until the next day, or until it's too late to do anything about it. And then I'm just really upset at myself and try everything to get where I'm supposed to go and I can't no matter what. A lot of times I miss Halloween for some reason. Other times I've missed a vacation that was planned, or my birthday. I have a feeling I'm going to start having dreams about missing my own wedding.

The second kind is a lot more disturbing. It involves some global tragedy happening where the fate of the world is at stake. Like aliens invading, or a giant monster, or any other number of terrifying things. And instead of being awesome and helping the world, I essentially just hide and pray continually that I will live, bargaining with God for my life.

I'm sure the first one has to do with my intense fear of disappointment. Of being excited for anything on a small or large scale and then having it not work out. I'm a control freak. Things out of my control that involve my own life make me incredibly anxious and nervous. I fixate on them.

The second I can only guess has to do with the fact that although I have a very large amount of faith in the church and the Plan of Salvation, I don't want to die. I'm really afraid of death. Because life is supposed to be a test, that determines eternity. And so far I've failed in a myriad of ways. And the idea that I could die at any given time, fully in my sins with no chance of truly repenting, is just something that I can't think about without losing my mind. And now that I have Max, all I want is to be with him for all eternity. And I want to work towards that goal so badly, and we are trying, but there's a lot that I've done seriously wrong.
I guess my subconscious is just giving me a friendly reminder of everything wrong with me.

And on that note, maybe that's why I put so much stock into making things perfect. Into meticulously fixing old college work that everyone else has thrown away, into making my journals beautiful by fixing any mistake with white-out. Maybe it's because it's something I can control. Maybe because I pretend that I'll live forever and have these fond memories to look back on at any given moment. Fond memories of something I did that was perfect. Unlike the rest of my life.

But the saddest part is, even when I put hours of my time into fixing these things, they're never good enough for me.

Reagarding sexism towards women, and how it's also sexism towards men

Let’s start with rape culture. The idea that women are responsible for their own rapes because of how they dress/ act/ where they are at a certain time is disgusting, and obviously ridiculous.

On the surface, it’s completely sexist towards women. But what’s it covering up? That men are incapable of controlling their own actions, and are no more intelligent, or able to make rational decisions than animals. Huh.

Let’s move on to that Kraft ad, and how it’s so controversial. If you aren’t familiar with it, Kraft has an ad that pictures a man naked except for a piece of a tablecloth covering his genitals. And people are up in arms about how risque it is. It’s weird, because media has been using naked women with only their nipples and parts of their genitals covered with their hands or a tiny piece of fabric to sell products for decades. Has there ever been a big fuss about that? Not really.

On the surface, completely sexist towards women. But what’s the deeper truth behind the controversy? That people as a whole are so disgusted with naked men that they can’t bear to see them shown on television commercials. That a naked man is a danger and threat to their children and home, but naked women are exempt. Further than that, men in Speedos are generally “gross", but women in bikinis are celebrated. Women’s breasts are shown in PG-13 movies, but male nudity is always NC-17.

And lastly, the concept of virginity in cultures where virginity is a key factor in whether or not a woman is considered “marriageable". If a woman is a virgin, she’s good. But if a woman has been touched by another man, she is considered “tainted" and not fit for marriage. Why is she tainted? Because something dirty touched her. I mean come on.

I think guys are great. I’m engaged to a great one. And anything in culture that even hints at the fact that his gender is incapable of making decisions above that of an animal’s, disgusting, or shameful really upsets me. Girls, it should upset you too. And men, it should really upset you. You’re not even being openly discriminated against, it’s all underneath the surface.

Regarding that weird dream I had involving Sherlock Holmes and a bunch of other crap

I tend to have dreams about being romantically involved with fictional characters, or celebrities/ friends/ ex-boyfriends who are disguised as fictional characters , but Max is usually either around or I'm still engaged to him (or at least with him) in the back of my mind, and that's nice. Like last week I had a dream that NPH proposed to me and I turned him down because I loved Max. And this was after Nikelson who was a giant slug monster also tried to propose to me, but I'd like to pretend that that didn't happen.

I love my dreams. I stay asleep so long because of them. Actually, in my dream last night, Sherlock Holmes and I were explaining dreams to another girl, in which he used this projector to simulate how much more real things became in various levels of dreaming. And I told the girl that I liked to sleep in late because once you wake up and then go back to sleep, you have more dreams that you can remember. Even in my dreams I'm lazy and sleep way too long.

And then I teased Sherlock for forgetting to pack a blanket, but he wasn't really Sherlock Holmes at that point, he was Sherlock as one of my exes, and then we went in a time machine that he built back to the Classical Era somewhere in Europe, but then Sherlock wasn't even around anymore and I was just with 2 other women that I don't know at all. I knew who they were there though...

Something about people who posed as mannequins, something about experiencing the Classical Era in a huge courtyard in front of a mansion which I guess was City Hall or something where a man who was literally Mr. Burns from the Simpsons was saying something and knew who we were and we had to hide/ run away from him. And then it was only me and one other girl, and we were sword fighting through crowds of people and soldiers to get back to our time machine area, and on the way Nick was there and we waved at each other... And I had a conversation with the girl about "Max and I swordfight all the time, so this is easy. And I'm sure you and Sherlock do too." Psh girl stole Sherlock somehow.

And then we got there but had no more time machine crystals, but this random man gave us some and we got back just in time to escape the people chasing us. And then something happened and we went back to the courtyard this time with Sherlock I think, and I asked something about the blonde girl with the pointy nose (who was a mannequin earlier on) and Sherlock said something about "Well she's my niece" so I actually think that the girl who I thought stole Sherlock was really his niece?

And then once we got to the courtyard, the evil Mr. Burns guy passed a law about something that everyone booed (which I can only assume is linked to the modern events of gay marriage/ abortion bills being heavily debated) and then all these people got up, who were all dressed in various flotation devices and swimsuits, and started chanting something about how they opposed was had just happened, got into this giant river that wound throughout the city, and just swam around the river dressed up as seahorses and unicorns. One girl had a motorized propeller under her dragon tail? I zoomed in on it in the dream, so it must have been important.

Somehow I got home, and everyone was just in bed sleeping naked. I have no idea who they were though. I just go home and everyone's sleeping naked? There was one guy that I was all happy about seeing, but I don't know who he was. Was he Max? I think he was white. I don't think he was anyone. I think he was some generic white man.

I think there was another dream, but I can't remember if it was connected to this one. It was something about my old high school friend Lucas giving away these new music devices which were just called "P". And he asked if I wanted one for free because we were either in a band together, or had designed them, but I said they were stupid looking (so I hope I didn't design them) so I didn't want one.

And then everyone threw a huge party in my bedroom, and Lucas ended up giving the last one to this Genevieve (who was his in real life his girlfriend in high school for years), and I was really jealous. Because suddenly I wanted a "P". And then this other jerk Chris Conway was like "Well yeah, she's prettier than you." And I ran back in the room and demanded a "P" but instead everyone was packing everything up and then Sherlock Holmes was there building a time machine?

I think that's what happened. But somewhere along the lines Alex was there, or maybe I just found a picture of Alex? I don't know. All I know is that when Sherlock was there he was RDJ Sherlock and he was hot. Except when we first built the time machine and got in it, he was Benedict Cumberbatch. Actually he might have been a mix the whole time.

Regarding my ENGAGEMENT

Sunday night.

Max comes home from "getting the rest of the stuff in his old apartment" and proceeds to make dinner, while I am told to stay in the bedroom, and not peek. So I stayed nicely in my room, knowing what was coming, but not knowing how I would react. I was playing Candy Crush on my laptop.

"Baby, you can come out now!" I jokingly yelled "Can I finish my game first?" But Max didn't hear me (which I'm glad of). He had put a blanket over the shutter doors so I couldn't look through the cracks. So I took off the blankets and opened the doors.

Leading from the doors to Max was a trail of rose petals which went through to the living room to the dining room area where Max was standing. He had put on a sweater and black blazer and was standing next to our dining room table, which had candles lit in candle holders, a bouquet in the middle, and dinner set up.

I just cried the whole time.

I walked to him and he told me this wonderful and adorably rehearsed speech about our lives, and how we were able to still have fun even when doing something hard like moving everything into a new place. He said that we had already taken one step in our lives by getting an apartment together, and he wanted to start another journey which began with the question "Will you marry me?"

Like I said, I just cried. I didn't even know if I had said "Yes" or just made a sound.

He put on my ring, and the wedding band that went with it, because he wanted to see how it looked. The little sass remembered that I had said I wanted a bridal set. And then after lots of hugs and kisses, Max said to smile for the camera, which he had set up to record the whole thing. And then I got all embarrassed and went to turn it off. But he said "She said yes!" into the camera, and I started laughing. So the video ends nicely.

Oh, and the whole time "If It's the Beaches" was playing in the background. Because something about the lines "If it's the beaches sands you want then you will have them, if it's the mountains rolling rivers you will have them." and "I will rearrange my plans and change for you." kind of really mean a lot for me. I've rearranged a lot of my life to be with the man I love more than anything. And I really believe that he'd give me the mountains rolling rivers if he could.

And then we ate dinner. I nabbed a good man. Filet mignon, biscuits, baked potatoes, and salad. The only thing he forgot was the cups for water, which he said he forgot from being nervous. I asked him why he was nervous since he knew I'd say yes, and he said he just wanted to make everything perfect and memorable and was worried about messing something up. (He didn't.)

He told me stories about ring shopping with his family, and how he knew that my ring was the ring when he saw it. And I swear, I just cried the entire time.

We tried to take some pictures, but my make-up was running down my face, and I look kind of silly. I do have some that I took on my phone of some of the things that he set up. Here's my ring:

Here's the rose petal trail leading to the table:

Here's me crying next to the table:

Here's the table set up (after we had let the candles burn down). Max even put rose petals on the chairs and table around the food.

And this is what the kitchen looked like after dinner and preparing everything. Max was saying how you never see the clean-up part of the proposal in movies or anything.

And here's us! (I edited my smudged make-up out of the picture hahaha)

Max and Holly, engaged June 23, 2013

Regarding the day I figured everything out

It's a sad day when you realize that your parents aren't the shining beacons of knowledge and life experience that you thought they were. It's even more sad when your one parent was such a monumental disappointment, that your other parent became God to you. And then once you grow up, live on your own, and come back home, you realize that your God parent is just as screwed up as the other one.

My Mother is the most pessimistic and disheartening person I have ever met, besides her brother. Her attitude is that everything bad that happens is a conspiracy towards her alone. That no bad happens to others, and that in any situation where something bad can happen, it will. And my whole life I was scolded for complaining about this or that because "I had it so good." Yeah, I do. But I was a little kid, and I wanted a video game system. Hey Mom, you own your own house after a divorce. A house that's paid off, a house that is entirely yours to live in or sell at a pretty good chunk of money. And even with all of that, you're jealous of me getting married because I get to leave? Newsflash: Just because you're stuck in the Simi Valley black hole, doesn't mean you can't leave if you really wanted to.

My whole life I've been her only outlet to complain to about my father, about her parents, about money, about etc. And now I finally opened my eyes to the fact that really, this situation isn't any different from anyone else's. Men are bad husbands all the time. Men are bad Fathers all the time. Why are we so different? Oh right, because we're a part of the Church where everything is supposed to be perfect and harmonious and lovely, and then when real life comes and it's not, it's all a big conspiracy theory towards you alone.

Max's family is incredible. Max's family actually treats him like an adult, and is supportive of his decisions. My Mom still uses the "You're the child" card, and literally stormed out of the house when I told her that I knew more about drug users than she did. Bigger Newsflash: I have experienced so much more than you have, simply because I have allowed myself to. You admit to growing up "under a rock", and yet you're offended when I say that I know more about drug users, homosexuals, and *gasp* people who have sex before marriage than you do? (My Mom still thinks that people with tattoos are criminals.)

I really cannot live here for much longer. This place that used to be so comforting when I was away at school in a place I hated, has become poison. Through the divorce, my Mom had been so worried about "having a place for me to come home to", never thinking that maybe I didn't want to come home for an indefinite amount of time. My fiance has an apartment, that he's living in alone. An apartment that I want desperately to be in with him as we plan our wedding.

My Mom's response to my half-joking attempt at breaking the news about moving in with Max? "Oh you want to go live in sin?" And today she gave me a talk about "Certain marital activities" Because God forbid that I can make my own decisions and have to make a choice that will ultimately lead to a happy marriage and life? Or maybe it would just kill you to have your parents find out that I'm actually a heretic. Because regardless of every good decision I've made in my life, and the kind of person that I am, moving in with Max would entirely negate everything and make me evil.

So what do I do? I'm stuck here until I can get up the nerve to say "Hey everyone who loves me and thinks so highly of me, I'm an adult, so I'm making this decision which will ostracize me from everyone." (This is just one half of my family, too. My other half of the family already hates me for doing absolutely nothing.) My other option is to live in misery and try to plan a wedding with my fiance 2 hours away, and having to continuously deal with my Mom being crazy and my Dad being legitimately insane.

Regarding the Summer Solstice!

I am sitting in my new apartment. I say that half-heartedly, because right now I don't live here. I helped Max move in to Summer Meadows, which originally I was going to move into as well right when he moved in, because we were supposed  to be married by now. Instead, we aren't even engaged. More on that later.

It's kind of disheartening actually, because I'm here in this gorgeous place with the man I love, and I can't live here due to some moral obligations that have already been broken, so really it comes down to the facade of moral obligations. And that's just a ridiculous thing to stand in the way of me being here starting my life. However, being engaged might help a great deal. Being engaged would yield a wedding date, and that would yield a specific time to be in exile instead of "living in sin" indefinitely. But again, the whole thing is stupid.

My favorite quote in The Great Gatsby (which was left out of the movie!) is when Daisy Buchanan says, "In two weeks it'll be the longest day in the year. Do you always watch for the longest day of the year and then miss it? I always watch for the longest day in the year and then miss it."It's always been one of my favorite quotes. I love the solstices and equinoxes. When I was little, summer was just when school ended, and winter was Christmas. But there is order to the year, there is a definite period of 3 months for each season, and one day longer than any other, which is the beginning of summer.

Apparently this year the solstice was a little bit different. The summer solstice started at around 1am on June 21st on the East Coast, but because I am on the West Coast, the summer solstice here actually started around 10pm last night on the 20th. So when I googled the summer solstice after hearing about it on the radio, I thought I had missed it, like Daisy always does. However, it still technically ends today. And that's good news for me, because yesterday was spent entirely on moving and cleaning, not very summery.

But today, Max is playing a show at a coffee shop, and then he has agreed to go in the jacuzzi with me afterwards in the apartment's jacuzzi, which is right next to our apartment! And then maybe watch 500 Days of Summer? And tomorrow, we're headed to Long Beach to pick up the rest of my furniture, but maybe I can convince him to get some ice cream somewhere since we'll be in a beach town.

And with all the dreams I've had about being proposed to, I swear, I'd better be engaged before I leave Riverside on Sunday. I had a dream that I turned down Neil Patrick Harris' marriage proposal because I loved Max. I mean, come on. Even in my dreams I picked Max. So he'd better do something about it, or Neil is getting a second chance.

-H.B.

Regarding a horrible billboard

On the way to Riverside there is a billboard for a strip club/ gentleman’s bar featuring a “sexy nurse” with a needle. The billboard says “The cure for the common marriage.”

So according to the general public, heterosexual marriage is so awful that men have no choice but to go look at other naked women to get their minds off of their wives. That’s America’s view of marriage? Some people would give anything to marry the person that they love, who would actually respect them and treat them with decency, and we won’t let them?

This is why I support marriage equality.

Everything I dislike about LDS boys can be summarized in three experiences

1. In the LDS culture, young men and young women are discouraged from dating until they are 16. I met a boy in Seminary when I was 15, and he would hold my hand, go to dances with me, and kiss me everyday before he left. Then one day, he decided that he liked another girl, and had no idea why I was so upset when he wasn't acting the same way to me. He said "Why are you upset? We weren't dating!" And then on April 1st he told me, "I love you. April Fools!"
2. I was friends with a boy. I hardly knew him at all. He asked me to Mormon Prom by coming to my house in the middle of the night and leaving a DVD on the porch with a recording of him playing his guitar and asking me to Mormon Prom. Then when I said no because I was dating someone else, he was angry for me "leading him on".
3. I was actually legitimately dating this guy. He was two years older than me, and had an addiction that prevented him from going on his mission. We went bowling with our choir. I had a tank top on with a sweater over it. It was very hot, and I took my sweater off. He responded with "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" And demanded that I put my sweater back on, because I had exposed my shoulders.

Needless to say, I'm a little bit turned off.

Regarding the deepest desires of my soul and how I would waste away watching the Mirror of Erised

It's a very dangerous thing to put the deepest desires of your heart on someone else's shoulders. When what you want is attainable by you alone, life is a lot less disappointing. And the worst part is when you have no control over what the deepest desires of your heart are, and they happen to be entirely up to someone else to fulfil. And literally all that you can do about anything is just sit there and wait.

I hate not being in control of things that directly affect me.

Regarding Sundays and the like

Growing up, I think I got a really bad impression of what "keeping the Sabbath day Holy" meant, and because of it I started to hate Sunday because it was boring. I felt like the only things I was allowed to do were go to church, read scriptures, watch conference, and sit quietly. And then I grew up, and realized that all these members of my same church spent time with their friends, went to the beach to have picnics, and genuinely enjoyed the Sabbath.

I guess it was because of my family, which has greatly influenced the way I feel about the gospel, and the decisions that I have made in my life. My Mother was always very active, and my Father was not active, and not a good person at all. He was not the example of the Priesthood that my Mother expected him to be. I didn't really have an opinion, I had nothing to compare him to, other than the fact that other kids I went to church with were happy and loved their families, and I didn't.

Dealing with that dichotomy of interests, I ended up this way. I have a strong and unshakeable testimony that the gospel is true, and I am willfully disobeying it. I guess I really did turn out like my Father. And in a lot of ways, that's so much harder to deal with than being inactive because you don't believe in the church or care about it. I've basically lived torturing myself for years. 

And my prime example would be Max. I don't believe in only dating members of the church, because I've never had any good experiences with them, and we just aren't compatible. I've often felt that I am too Mormon for non-Mormons, but too "rebellious" for the Mormons. And my soulmate was found in the form of a non-member who had my same moral values, but no strong religious beliefs. And then he joined the church. And honestly, what could I expect from the way that I am but to turn him off to it and become inactive myself?

I talked about this a couple weeks ago, that I have so much faith in him that he, and I, will both get there. At the beginning of the year he didn't want to get married until he finished school, and yet after one night of talking about it he changed his mind. God has worked wonders in that man, and I know that He will work so many more. I've felt it so many times, and I've seen it in his change of heart towards the church, and now towards marriage while he's still in school. Last year he couldn't even date me because school was too demanding.

But regardless of what my previous opinions are about Sunday, I have always viewed them as a new start. If I've failed my goals, or done things that I've felt bad about, Sunday always comes with another chance to live one week clean and good. And that's definitely something that I want to start in my new home with Max. I want to make goals for the week, for us personally, career/ school wise, spiritually and as a couple.

So, my goals for this week:

Personal: Go through my school stuff from the past year and assemble it nicely. Also catch up on my journal.

Work: Learn about small animal care before going into work on Tuesday, so I at least know basic care facts for the animals I'm in charge of.

Financial: Don't spend money on anything unnecessary, sell a textbook, pay tithing.

Spiritually: Read scriptures and pray everyday.

Physical: Exercise with the cardio videos everyday this week, and go on a few walks. Eat more vegetables, and drink water.

With Max: Don't bug him about getting engaged.

I think they're pretty reasonable. :)

H.B.

An old post that I found, that I think bears a lot of significance to my previous life in LB. Originally written on Tumblr April 25, 2013.

It's time for a story.

I just really need to do this, okay?
So, since moving to Long Beach, I have been in hell. More or less, my life has never been worse. I live in a nice apartment. Granted, it better be nice for how effing much I pay for it. So. It’s been 10 months. I will be here for a little more than 2 weeks.

All this time I have cleaned and bought cleaning products, and kept this place perfect. And then my roommate decides to let his girlfriend live here. And that’s even okay, even her breaking my dishes and leaving weird crap everywhere, is okay. But they have a dog. The dog used to live with her, now it’s here. Let’s be clear here. I do not like dogs in my home. There is fur everywhere. The apartment smells disgusting. Did I say it was okay to have an animal in my apartment, who gets so much fur on the couches that I can’t sit on them? I can’t even leave my room because the living room where the dog is 24/7 is just. not okay.

So fine. It’s ending soon. Lease ends at the end of May, I’ll be moved out beforehand. Oh, but wait. Today, I had to break down and completely destroy my door. I locked myself out of my bedroom. And it has some weird little pinhole lock that everyone said I could open with a bobby pin. Well, no. You were wrong. So, I took the doorknob off. but wait! The other side with the turning mechanism fell into my locked room. So I attempted for hand. For three duegwbv hours I attempted. Now my hands are bleeding, and my back hurts like hell. Call a locksmith? Sorry, it’s too late. And if they came now, it would cost a crap ton. So, keep trying. nothing worked. Nothing. The lock was just not coming out of the effing door.

I undid the doorknob on my roommates door. His lock is entirely different, so there’s no way to use it for reference. Upon seeing his room, I noticed that his door and wall are entirely scratched up and broken because of that upgwohihoghioh[irgwghirgw dog. I really really want to curse, but Max will get upset. So, I was pissed. Because who’s going to determine how much damage was mine or his in the security deposit?

So, I kept trying. Eventually I had no other choice than to kick the door. Now, I did try this a lot before, but I guess at this point I was so freaking angry that it worked. But now my door is literally split in half, with no way to close. So, I have to tape my door shut now, and who knows how much that will cost! Great summer plans? Gone. Everything. I swear, there has not been one good thing that has happened since coming here. I am thousands of dollars in debt, and about to be more so.

So, Tumblr. I will tell it to the world. I am not coming back to this place. Ever. I am leaving, and not returning. I’ve had it. I had enough back in October, and it’s gotten worse and worse.

I’m done. This is done. I’ll finish my semester, but I’m done..

Regarding my second week back

I noticed that I posted a first week back in Simi update last Tuesday, and since it is Tuesday again, I will post a second week back in Simi update now! That sentence really shouldn't have an exclamation point, because it's been pretty lame.

As I wrote yesterday, I still don't have a job. I called Petsmart yesterday, and they said to call today when the manager does new hire stuff. So I did, and was told that she was in a meeting and that she would call me back later. Well, that was almost five hours ago, and I haven't heard anything. I was supposed to have a second interview yesterday with Paint A Dream, but then some emergency happened with the regional manager, and it was postponed indefinitely. My first interview was last Wednesday. I also went to Macaroni Grill last Thursday in the hopes of being hired as a singer, since you know, I am a singer, and have studied classical Italian music for all of highschool and college. I told the manager that I was leaving in October, and she said that they don't hire summer hires. What part of working until the end of October is considered a summer hire?

Update:
I got hired at Petsmart, I go in to fill out paperwork on Thursday. That was silly. I don't feel like writing anymore. The end.

H.B.

A political post

My friend brought up this amazing point that I would like to speak about. Recently there was a controversy surrounding Fox Network, because some men were saying that the reason for the high divorce rates and economic distress in modern days, is due to the high number of women in the workforce, and as the primary breadwinners for their families.

The logic was, there is more divorce because the women should be at home taking care of the family, and because she isn’t, the men can’t handle it and they want a divorce.

Now, let’s look at rape culture. Common thought is that women ask to be raped because of how they dress or act, because the men are physiologically incapable of controlling themselves. I heard it all the time in church too regarding modesty. If you show too much cleavage or shoulder, the men won’t be able to focus on school, work, God, etc. and it will be your fault.

On the surface, it seems like women are getting the abuse, blame, scorn, etc. But really think about it. What are attitudes like this saying? That men are petty, immature, driven by biological urges, animalistic, and incapable of functioning as normal human beings on their own without the help of women.

Fox is essentially saying that men are not able to raise children, that they are too lazy, brutish, selfish to do so. And rape culture dictates that men are animals, that they cannot help but rape, and think about boobs all day and then fail school because of it.

From a woman’s standpoint, we’re all calling BS on stuff like this for being offensive and ridiculous. But men need to start calling BS on this too. Men are being labeled as animals, and creatures so petty that if a woman makes more money than he does, he has no choice but to bail out of the relationship.

Men, do you realize this? On the surface, the blame is to the women, but when you look deeper, it’s all really blaming you for being stupid. And guess what? You aren’t.

It’s time for men to stand up for themselves too.

H.B.

On how I have hardly any money but I'm excited for the future still

I told Max the amount of money I had yesterday, and although it wasn't scads, it was at least a good buffer. I realized today that I forgot about the 600 dollars of credit card debt that I have. I also forgot about how interest accrues when you don't pay the full amount that you owe every month . And then I remembered about all the student loans that I've been forgetting about.

How am I going to plan a wedding like this?!

Why don't I have a job yet??? I've had so many good interviews and good leads! I was asked to take a drug test, which is a really good sign, but I haven't heard anything! I had a second interview scheduled at Paint A Dream but it was rescheduled for a later time, and I could print out more applications if my computer which is hooked up to the printer had an internet connection! Then I had to spend more money on the ethernet cable!

For the first time, I really really need a job. Not for fun money, but because I have rent, and bills, and a bunch of crap to pay for. And also for the first time, I want a job. I want to work hard, and save up for my future family and life situation. I want to be self-reliant, and not depend on my hubby to bring home all the bacon on his own. I'm really good at managing money, it just hasn't been something I've had to worry about for almost a year because I've had student loan money coming in.

I'm really excited about the opportunities that may come with marriage though. I haven't had a terrible time getting financial aid, it's just been difficult getting the needed information from my parents. Also, I only have one year of experience at a 4-year where financial aid was really important. Nevertheless, I am very excited to have only mine and Max's incomes to report. He will definitely be helped out by a marriage, he doesn't qualify for any financial aid right now. And there are scholarships and grants specifically for married students in college (so I've heard).

Let's turn this into a positive. I have limited funds for now, until I get a job. I do have a paycheck to put in the bank, and a security deposit on the way. I will pay off my credit card and be clean and free from that. And then everything I make will be spent carefully and budgeted towards home and marriage. And then I will ride Max's tail on his purchases, and make sure he doesn't buy silly 200 dollar things because they make "good investments".

H.B.

Oh yeah, there's an update to the hair thing.

I saw the hair post that I wrote a couple weeks ago, and saw how upset I was, and decided that I really needed an update. Admittedly, that sad looking picture of me was really the best that I could take on that day, and it was probably a completely psychological thing.

So, I really LOVE my hair now. And I will post pictures to prove it.

It's just good.

H.B.

Regarding my first week back

It's been... a fantastic week actually. I came back really having no idea what to expect in terms of how busy I'd be, when I'd get a job, what friends I would be able to see, etc. And the past week has seriously been jam-packed with good.

I've had a BBQ with my Dad in his new place, helped him adopt a cat, and watched him hallucinate and go crazy. I've reconnected with my best guy friend, made a fool of myself in front of a guy from Yale, helped him give a cat to a friend, and become a part of his life and someone to talk to again. I've listened to my always fun and carefree friend in her times of heartache, and fed ducks at the part (Volume 2). I've somehow kindled the kind of friendship I've always wanted with the girl I've known longer than any of my friends, and seen a friend that I haven't seen in almost two years. I've gone to church after being absent for almost a year, and laughed with a friend that I haven't seen in two. I've seen my grandparents. I've already had an interview, and set up two more. I've taken care of a guinea pig, and watched him and a cat become friends. I've made a cake, macaroni, and awesome fried rice in preparation for housewife-dom. And all this with only missing Max just a little bit!

Seriously, this week has been amazing. However, I don't know how long it will continue. After awhile, people will leave, I'll have one or more jobs, and be (hopefully) working my butt off to save up for moving to Riverside. But all in all, I'm happy. I'm happy to be back home, and I'm happy to feel like no matter the amount of time that passes, my friends will always be my friends. That as we get older, we laugh about different things, but our conversations are deeper and more meaningful, and we're always planning on when we can see each other again.

I'm very happy, but admittedly, I do miss my baby. But I'd like to believe that this is all necessary preparation. I need to actually get a job, but I'm doing good!

Oh my gosh and I bought this dress. And it was more money than I should have spent, but Shawna told me to. And I really love it.

H.B.

Regarding church?

I think the last time I went to church was sometime in October. And it was really only because I thought that everything I knew was gone, so I had to start over. And then as soon as my old life came back, I stopped going again.

It's weird to think about really. I've always had a testimony, and it hasn't diminished despite being gone from church for months. I know a lot of people leave because they don't believe anymore, or find fault in organized religion. For me, I just feel guilty when I go. The life I have now is one that I chose, and one that I've accepted. However, having accepted that kind of life which is contrary to the church's teachings, and not wanting to change it just makes me feel out of place in a group of people who are actively trying to live the teachings. I don't want to fix my mistakes, I want to continue my mistakes until they are no longer mistakes.

Every week I have dreaded Sunday. I have woken up with a knot in my stomach and tried to figure out an excuse to get out of going. Often I have slept until 1pm or later to simply avoid thinking about it. Even up to last night I was dreading today. Today is the first Sunday where I am officially moved back home. All school year my Mom has acted mildly annoyed about me not going to church, but hasn't had a lot of pull in making me, since I've been away at school. I was really hoping
this would continue, but she took the first chance she got to essentially threaten me about going to church, because "THAT'S WHERE HEAVENLY FATHER EXPECTS YOU TO BE." The last time I checked, that attitude does not work as a motivating tool.

So even though I was super angry last night, and expecting to have the same feeling as usual about church upon waking up, things turned out a little differently. I actually wanted to go to church, and completely of my own accord. I'm getting ready to go now, so I will update later!

Update

I'm so happy that I went to church. :) Really. The hardest part wasn't getting ready (I looked freaking hot today) or even driving there. It was the moment from getting out of the car and walking up to the door. In that moment I was still able to bail out, and overcoming that desire was the most challenging part of the day.

I think one of the biggest motivators in going was seeing a friend that got back from his mission a few months ago. He's been calling me asking when I'd be back from school because he wanted to see me. So I told him I'd come to church and asked if he would be my sitting buddy. R.S. was okay, no one really seemed to be affected that I was there. It is always funny to me when they talk about how important is to visit the less actives, when I had been gone for months and no one had any idea that I hadn't been at church in all that time.

When R.S. was over, Nate came in to visit me before he left to another class, which I decided to go with him to. And then we sat together again in Sacrament, and made sassy comments about the speakers. Nothing mean, just that a woman was talking about a particularly trying time with her five kids running around the house, and Nate and I both said "Answer: Don't have five kids."

I saw a few other people that seemed genuinely happy to see me. My friend Leah, the Bishop, and a couple people who said that my dress was pretty or my hair looked nice. I talked to the Bishop's daughter, who is also a vocal performance major as a lyric soprano. Even a girl who I had definitely been in church with before came up to me and asked if I remembered her from the one year I went to Seminary.

On to Lessons Learned

I'm a firm believer in the power of prayer. I believe that any prayers spoken, with faith that they will be answered, will be answered eventually. I've been concerned for awhile now about my relationship. There's certain things that I want very badly in my future marriage and family, and I've been fairly concerned that things won't work out the way I hope. I've seen my Mom go through two failed marriages, so of course I'm more prone to worry about such things. I've also been struggling with my own shortcomings and life decisions, as previously mentioned.

My prayers and worries were addressed in church today. Two separate issues, answered two separate ways in two different meetings. Firstly, in Sunday School our lesson was on repentance. And someone actually posed the question "What if we have sinned, and don't feel sorrow?" And people had a few answers that didn't really seem too solid. Finally a girl said how it doesn't always come immediately for everyone, and for her feeling sorrow for something took literal years. It was a nice feeling, that I'm not alone. Others do things, and can't always repent immediately. Maybe for me it will take one, or five more years to understand. And that's okay.

And then in Sacrament my worries about Max were addressed with a talk from the new member of the Bishopric. He and his wife both talked. He was a convert at age 18, and later was able to take his wife to the temple to be married. Admittedly, that's something that isn't going to happen in my life, but that's not something I'm ashamed about. Anyway, he was saying how long it took him to learn the gospel, and that he still is working on gaining a testimony. And he used the quote "Line upon line, precept upon precept." He also said something that I have said so many times. That his wife saw the potential in him, that he didn't see in himself at the time. I have so much faith in Max, and I know that he will do everything he can to be a great man, husband, and father. I can't expect him to learn immediately, it could take his whole life. And again, that's okay.

H.B.

Bedroom

• Bed with black comforter or dark grey comforter
• Black tall bookcase
• Black desk
• Black and accented color short bookcase/ nightstand

Living Room/ Dining Room

• White couch with cover (color?)
• Tan desk
• Light brown bookcase
• Possibly white bookcase or painted bookcase as table stand
• Kitchen cabinet
• Tan table with tablecloth and tan chairs

Regarding summertime plans.

Firstly, let me say that I have accepted my short haired fate, and am learning to like it. The first thing Max said when he saw me was that I look like the girl from the new Bioshock game, and that she's sessy, so that makes everything okay.

My finals are over! I am 70% moved out of the apartment, I just need to take my dishes and furniture. I'm in Riverside with Baby right now, and the realization that I can potentially stay here forever, especially since we already have an apartment in our name, is exciting. However, I am moving back to Simi for the next 4-6 months.

I'm excited for the summer. Who isn't? But really, there's so much that I have the potential of doing that I just have all my time to do. I'm looking for work currently and I have one interview at Petsmart lined up for next week. I'm very excited, I really want to work in a pet store. I'm going to try to be full time, but I'll probably end up in between part time and full time. Even so, the whole concept of going to work for my allotted shift, and then having no homework and no music to learn is a wonderful feeling.

My plans are essentially doing as many DIY craft projects as I can get my hands on. I'm going to completely hipster up my new place with Max, and I'm very excited about it. I was so lonely in my old place, and my roommate's dog kind of destroyed everything, so there wasn't much I could do.

Other than work, and crafting, I have a wedding to plan. If someone stops being a complete butt about it and putting the only part that he has to do off. So really, I have so much to do, in the best of ways. I'm going to be using this blog a lot and documenting craft projects and such, as well as wedding developments.

I also plan on buying some rats, playing with all my kitties, planting plants, learning German through illegally downloaded Rosetta Stone, and going through all of the stuff that has amassed in my room since I was born.

I'm very excited for life, and so grateful to be done with school.

Concerning Phantom on this Wednesday morning.

In December 2004, the Phantom of the Opera movie came out. My friend from middle school really wanted me to see it. My lovely mother took me at like 10 or 11 at night for some reason (I think because it was being taken out of theaters), and sat in the back of the theater while I sat with my friends in the front row. I was 12. The day was February 19, 2005. A day that every year since then has warranted some kind of celebration, or acknowledgement. I think I made a cake one year...

The movie begins in black and white. My 12 year old self didn't appreciate this, thank you very much. And then that damn title track began. I don't remember a specific point in the movie where my brain decided to have a meltdown and entirely change everything about my life forever, but it happened somewhere. I do remember the Phantom's unmasking, which admittedly made me jump. However, keep in mind that I was in the front row, and even horrible CGI face deformities are startling from that close up.

I do remember eating Ice Breakers Sours. Why I know this, is that because of smell/ memory connection, the smell of those stupid little nasty candies makes me think of that theater, that experience, and every Phantom feel. I've actually bought them in the past just to smell them. All of my movie tickets from that night on are saved in an Ice Breakers Sours container frm 2005. Well, some of them I decided to glue onto a piece of paper, which was a terrible idea, but that's besides the point.

I came home from that movie, and my initial reaction was to be the Phantom. One time this guy I dated in high school (who I only dated because of his beautiful Phantom Halloween costume because I seriously have problems) asked me if I loved the Phantom, or wanted to be the Phantom. I still don't think I know. But the fact remains, that that was my first reaction, and my sweet mother indulged my crazy and gave me her black gloves to play with. It was a dark night for me. February 19, 2005...

The next day I began a binder to fill with Phantom related items. With my brief experience the best I could muster was getting my mom to let me print pictures of Gerard Butler and Emmy Rossum from the internet. But I needed more, it was a drug. The movie had stopped playing in my hometown, but was still playing in Oxnard. Again, bless my mom's heart, she indulged the crazy. She drove me out to Oxnard to see the movie. The movie reel had problems and kept skipping, so they gave us a free ticket to see it again. The madness consumed me.

Then came finding the soundtrack, novel, and renting other versions from the library. I was 12 and my mom had to deal with me singing, "What sweet seduction lies before us!" and then trying to explain was seduction meant. I read the novel, covered my school binder with extremely suggestive pictures from "The Point of No Return" scene, and further accepted the crazy.

I remember the first time the real extent of obsession was made known to me. We had a long-term sub in my 7th grade History class, and the lady who replaced her was named Ms. Gerbert. (I think.) She saw the pictures on my binder and made a comment about how she loved the show/movie/whatever and I was so angry. You know, the crazy fangirl "I LOVE HIM MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER HOPE TO YOU STUPID POSER." Again, I seriously have had problems.

I also remember one particularly hilarious conversation with my mom, (hilarious looking back on it I mean) where I said something along the lines of "The Phantom's the bad guy, everyone loves Raoul. I feel bad for the Phantom, and he's way sexier. I'm cool and awesome and unique because I like the bad guy which no one has ever done before." Like I said, hilarious.

My hope in being unique was soon crushed when I realized that everyone loved the Phantom, (who by now I called Erik) and no one really gave a crap about Raoul. My crushed hope turned into a life mission of systematically taking down everyone who dared utter a word about my soul-mate, and simultaneously making myself the supreme overlord of all Phantom related knowledge. One such tactic being to never refer to Erik as "The Phantom", only by his name, which only I knew.

The only thing I can really chalk this insanity up to is having a balls homelife. It was around this exact same time that my Dad lost his job due to disability, and was in turn home 24/7 to make my life hell. I started self-harming, and thought about committing suicide once or twice. In some cliche way, this story saved me. Erik had it way worse than me, ("Poor, unhappy Erik!") and he was comforting. I wrote fanfictions with a Mary-Sue named Anna which had very graphic sex scenes in them.

And again my mom, bless her soul, indulged me in every way. I think she knew that it helped me. She gave me Christmas presents signed from "Erik" to "My Anna" that contained things like a boxed set of C.D.s of classical composer's most popular works. One time she burned the edges of a letter and wrote something like "You light up the darkness of my cold dark lair." And another time, gave me a massive Valentine's Day card that played "Fur Elise" when you opened it, signed "From Erik". My mom wins everything.

So stuff like this continued on through my life. The only real problem it caused was that aforementioned thing about dating a guy because of his homemade plaster cast mask and velvet-lined cape. That experience can be chalked up to these words of wisdom: Do not date someone who is as obsessed with something as you are, because it just isn't healthy.

I saw the show for the first time in 2009, and met John Cudia. Amazing. I saw it again in 2010, coercing a friend into taking me even though we had entirely different seats. On the way back, the love of my life informed me that he had started dating someone at his new college, which I won't get into right now. The point of this is, that at this point the whole concept of Phantom was extremely comforting for home problems, as well as being lonely. From 12 on, every time I went through a breakup, (that wasn't my doing), the Phantom thing spun out of control. I imagined him there in the rafters at my choir concerts. I imagined him as this friend who was there when things were unpleasant.

Unfortunately, instead of turning to Phantom in this time of actual crisis, I tried another approach, called dating a "clean-cut LDS boy". I guess being told that kind of news while coming back from the show kind of made for a bad combination. Don't get me wrong, Phantom never left during that time, but I did try to hide a little of my crazy for this guy.

I'm going to omit the whole next year or so for the sake of writing another post which would be my incredibly convoluted love story with the man I'm going to marry.

So, now we're in the summer of 2012. It was a Phantom filled first half of the year. I went through a breakup which kick started another very long and intense Phantom episode, where I wrote fanfiction again and got into the Tumblr fandom. And then I found out Phantom Vegas was ending in September, so I made it my life goal to go see it. Due to persistence and a lot of help from my soon-to-be stepfather, I went with my Mom. I was happily in a relationship at that time, but the transformation of the theater still made me cry.

Since then, Phantom has kind of taken a hiatus. I'm still insane, and it still holds a massive part of my life, heart, and college major, but it's not the most important thing anymore. I don't need it to be happy. (The song "First Day of My Life" just started playing on Pandora and I'm going to tear up because of the irony.) I've found my steady source of happiness. I have this beautiful, real person in my life, who I can't say always understands me, but tries harder than anyone else ever has. Those dark moments aren't filled with self-pity, but with a man trying to make them brighter.

I love Erik, but I don't need him anymore. And I think he'd like that. To Holly, he was always a comforting friend. And all friends want their friends to be happy. So, I'll conclude with this.

Erik,
Thank you for being there for me when I needed you the most. Thank you for sparking classical music and opera in my life, and thank you for completely designing me as person. I wouldn't be who I am now without your influence throughout the years. I'm just writing to let you know, that as much as you've helped me, I don't need you anymore. I have someone else. Someone more stable, who isn't a crazed lunatic murderer. Don't worry though, I've never held those things against you. I'm going to be starting a family soon, and although your books, movies, and Broadway memorabilia will always be on my shelves, your consuming presence in my mind will not be. I hope you understand. I found my Christine, and he isn't running away. Oh, too harsh? Sorry.

I remain your obedient friend,
H.H.

On how I let Max cut my hair....and the results thereof.

This is St. Vincent.

I constantly want to be her. Maybe only because Max is in love with her. Because she is lovely, and a good musician, and have you seen her hair? Her hair is everything my hair tries to be, and isn't. So I had a goal. Once I realized that she is actually incredibly similar to me in face shape and hair texture, I decided to just try and be her.

I got a haircut last month. It was okay. I got bangs, as you can see in my first picture of myself. It was a nice step, because up until that day my bangs were like 3 different lengths, and just silly. So I got them cut straight across, and I kind of love them. But my actual haircut just wasn't short enough. It wasn't St. Vincent short enough. Again... you can refer to that first picture. 

So, I have this problem. As soon as I decide for sure that I want something, I will obsess over it until I obtain it. (That is if obtaining said thing is possible. I mean, I'm still not Christine or an elf in Middle Earth.) So I decided that I needed some shorter hair. Shorter hair is healthier, and curls better, and is cooler in the summer. And here's where I went wrong. Instead of spending another 60 dollars to get a trim, (I'm against such crap. I need to eat and pay rent.) I trusted the love of my life to CUT MY HAIR.

I just. I just can't explain why that was the method I settled on. So, he trimmed a piece. A short piece. It was good! So I expected him to continue in such a manner. This was the result:

I'm not going to lie, I cried. I sat on the toilet with my clump of hair in my hand and cried. Max ordered pizza and chicken wings to make me feel better. Max is a good man. Max is not good at trimming hair. He is good at butchering it.

So today, after that whole conversation with the stylist about why I trusted my boyfriend to cut my hair, I look like a glorified mushroom. The bottom layer was so short, that they cut all my hair off. I'm trying not to hate it, and I will learn to like it, but for right now, these are the nicest pictures I could take

I am not St. Vincent

-H.B.