(P.S. I recommend clicking on these to see them enlarged).
04 December 2010
30 November 2010
Happy Thanksgiving Day (Week)!
David decided to take the entire week of Thanksgiving off. He felt he was deserving of some much-needed respite - a "vacation," if you will.
Why he always makes the mistake of thinking his staying home will garner hm some R&R, I'll never know... :)
On Monday we took the girls to the Los Angeles Zoo. It isn't that far away, but we've never gone before. I just didn't want to do it alone and figured that weekends would be far too crowded. So, having Daddy home, we took what should have been a 30 minute drive (it took an hour - welcome to SoCal freeways, my friends). I was totally worried we'd wasted extra animal-viewing time by being stuck on the road, but it turned out that the zoo opens at 10 AM (which I had forgotten to look up). We got there at 9:45. That was the first time in my life I ended up being grateful for traffic (if we had gotten there within the afore-mentioned 30 minutes and found ourselves waiting for the gates to open for over 1/2 an hour, then I never would've heard the end of it from David after my chaotic rushing-him-out-of-the-door that morning...).
CC is attempting to put her arms up like Malia. And yes. She is "smiling."
YAY! Going to the zoo! (Evidence that my children actually have a mother is found in the fact that these pictures exist. Someone has to take the pictures, you see. That's all the evidence you are allowed to require).
If Malia has a hooded jacket on, she requests to put the hood on every time, even though it often causes her to complain about static-ky flyaways in her face for the rest of the day...
Daddy's attempt at multi-tasking.
Any tips on how to teach a child to smile...?
The gorillas and the girls. No need for a caption, really. Too late.
I really wanted to wear the girls out, so I required them to walk most of the day. When CC was finally put in the stroller, she leaned back and made the most of it.
A final shot before leaving. There were no decent signs in the front due to parking lot construction, but if you can read backwards, you can see where we'd been.
The next day we took our usual Tuesday trip to Disneyland, but with the added bonus of Daddy in attendance. NOTE TO SELF: The block-out days for my annual passport are no longer the ONLY crowded days at Disneyland. Just because the calendar says I can go does not mean I should go because of the ignorant assumption that the REST OF THE WORLD is, supposedly, staying home! One of the employees said it was due to the upcoming holiday. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Thanksgiving the day you're supposed to either stay home or go to a family's home? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty confident most of those people are not related to Mickey Mouse....
On the tram. One of the only rides we actually were able to go on that day.
Cecily decided I wasn't allowed to take pictures of her this day. The above shot was a lucky one I got when she looked at me just as a roller coaster sped overhead and it startled her.
This picture is literally her, basically, saying, "If I close my eyes, then you can't see me to take a picture." Obviously, she didn't say that... but that's exactly what's going on here.
Told you. At least I did her hair cute that day...
Malia & David on the 2nd ride (out of a total of 3 - if you count the stupid tram) we were actually able to go on (Seriously. No line was less than a 45 minute wait). Plus, she loves these swings.
I just wish this picture had audio. I love when Malia does her 1/2-scared, 1/2-elated scream that pierces, literally, over all the others. It's awesome.
And, once again, Malia reminds my camera it's not totally useless.
Ride #3. No smile, but at lease she didn't look away this time (Seriously. I didn't include the 20 pictures of the back of the kid's head).
On Wednesday we drove up to my Mom & Dad's in Apple Valley. And on Thursday, I cooked most of the (pre-cooked) food while my mom entertained my kids and Dave talked nerd stuff with my brother, Tony. No idea where my dad was for the majority of the day. That's typical - LOL. We enjoyed a wonderful feast (due, partially, to the fact that CC went down for her nap just as we began. Anybody else enjoying the food battles stage of a 2-year-old)?
My mom - doing what she does.
CC - About to have some eggnog and a bowl of fruit before taking a nap.
My brother Tony -
... who a lot of people say is actually the shy one in the family. (Yeah. We're that bad).
My mom drove back down here with us so that she could come with me and the girls to see "Tangled" at the El Capitan in Hollywood. Traffic was A-MAZ-ING! Seriously. Who knew that Black Friday @ 8 AM was the most ideal time to drive on the Hollywood 101 Fwy? It took us only 25 minutes to get there (It has taken me almost 2 hours on other days). So we wandered around the walk of fame, and then went to our movie, pleasantly surprised it was in 3D (not sure how we didn't know that). They even had little baby glasses for the girls. We got "free" popcorn and soda with our "VIP" reserved tickets. ($30 = We'd better be "VIPs"). It's a cute movie. I recommend it. :)
Yes. That's a huge macaroni noodle in front of the Kodak Theatre. The money from advertising is just that important. The thing is hideous. (You can see our movie theatre in the background).
I know. Another hand-holding photo. Can't help it. Love 'em.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Now - on to Christmas, 2 birthdays and a party, entertaining at 4 Church events, and directing 2 more.
I'll see you in 2011...
Why he always makes the mistake of thinking his staying home will garner hm some R&R, I'll never know... :)
On Monday we took the girls to the Los Angeles Zoo. It isn't that far away, but we've never gone before. I just didn't want to do it alone and figured that weekends would be far too crowded. So, having Daddy home, we took what should have been a 30 minute drive (it took an hour - welcome to SoCal freeways, my friends). I was totally worried we'd wasted extra animal-viewing time by being stuck on the road, but it turned out that the zoo opens at 10 AM (which I had forgotten to look up). We got there at 9:45. That was the first time in my life I ended up being grateful for traffic (if we had gotten there within the afore-mentioned 30 minutes and found ourselves waiting for the gates to open for over 1/2 an hour, then I never would've heard the end of it from David after my chaotic rushing-him-out-of-the-door that morning...).
CC is attempting to put her arms up like Malia. And yes. She is "smiling."
YAY! Going to the zoo! (Evidence that my children actually have a mother is found in the fact that these pictures exist. Someone has to take the pictures, you see. That's all the evidence you are allowed to require).
If Malia has a hooded jacket on, she requests to put the hood on every time, even though it often causes her to complain about static-ky flyaways in her face for the rest of the day...
Daddy's attempt at multi-tasking. 
Any tips on how to teach a child to smile...?
The gorillas and the girls. No need for a caption, really. Too late.
I really wanted to wear the girls out, so I required them to walk most of the day. When CC was finally put in the stroller, she leaned back and made the most of it. 
A final shot before leaving. There were no decent signs in the front due to parking lot construction, but if you can read backwards, you can see where we'd been. The next day we took our usual Tuesday trip to Disneyland, but with the added bonus of Daddy in attendance. NOTE TO SELF: The block-out days for my annual passport are no longer the ONLY crowded days at Disneyland. Just because the calendar says I can go does not mean I should go because of the ignorant assumption that the REST OF THE WORLD is, supposedly, staying home! One of the employees said it was due to the upcoming holiday. Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't Thanksgiving the day you're supposed to either stay home or go to a family's home? I'm not sure, but I'm pretty confident most of those people are not related to Mickey Mouse....
On the tram. One of the only rides we actually were able to go on that day.
Cecily decided I wasn't allowed to take pictures of her this day. The above shot was a lucky one I got when she looked at me just as a roller coaster sped overhead and it startled her. 
This picture is literally her, basically, saying, "If I close my eyes, then you can't see me to take a picture." Obviously, she didn't say that... but that's exactly what's going on here.
Told you. At least I did her hair cute that day...
Malia & David on the 2nd ride (out of a total of 3 - if you count the stupid tram) we were actually able to go on (Seriously. No line was less than a 45 minute wait). Plus, she loves these swings.
I just wish this picture had audio. I love when Malia does her 1/2-scared, 1/2-elated scream that pierces, literally, over all the others. It's awesome.
And, once again, Malia reminds my camera it's not totally useless.
Ride #3. No smile, but at lease she didn't look away this time (Seriously. I didn't include the 20 pictures of the back of the kid's head). 
My mom - doing what she does.
CC - About to have some eggnog and a bowl of fruit before taking a nap.
Malia - smiling and then immediately reminding me (over & over & over & over...) that I said she only had to take a "polite bite" of turkey.
My brother Tony -
... who a lot of people say is actually the shy one in the family. (Yeah. We're that bad).My mom drove back down here with us so that she could come with me and the girls to see "Tangled" at the El Capitan in Hollywood. Traffic was A-MAZ-ING! Seriously. Who knew that Black Friday @ 8 AM was the most ideal time to drive on the Hollywood 101 Fwy? It took us only 25 minutes to get there (It has taken me almost 2 hours on other days). So we wandered around the walk of fame, and then went to our movie, pleasantly surprised it was in 3D (not sure how we didn't know that). They even had little baby glasses for the girls. We got "free" popcorn and soda with our "VIP" reserved tickets. ($30 = We'd better be "VIPs"). It's a cute movie. I recommend it. :)
Yes. That's a huge macaroni noodle in front of the Kodak Theatre. The money from advertising is just that important. The thing is hideous. (You can see our movie theatre in the background).
Ah. Julie Andrews. About every 15-20 stars, I would say to my mom, "Ok. Now this person actually deserves one." Julie Andrews was one of those.
(Ok, listen. I can't tell you how many times I've uploaded and deleted this photo. No CLUE why it wants to be sideways. So turn your head). When Malia was little and her curls were more dominant, strangers used to call her Shirley Temple. Hence the picture.
(Ok, listen. I can't tell you how many times I've uploaded and deleted this photo. No CLUE why it wants to be sideways. So turn your head). When Malia was little and her curls were more dominant, strangers used to call her Shirley Temple. Hence the picture. 
I know. Another hand-holding photo. Can't help it. Love 'em.
Happy Thanksgiving! Now - on to Christmas, 2 birthdays and a party, entertaining at 4 Church events, and directing 2 more.
I'll see you in 2011...
24 November 2010
Why Gratitude Rhymes with Attitude
My Thanksgiving Thoughts
I did my visiting teaching on Monday. This month was "choose-your-own-message" month because November was all about using a Conference talk from last month. I chose two separate talks for my two sisters because they are both in very different seasons in their life. For the older sister who is an empty-nester, I chose Elder Scott's talk about faith and character. For the other sister, a less-active, new convert, single mom, I chose President Monson's talk about gratitude. I like to be careful not to shove too much doctrine down her throat.
It was amazing how interconnected the two were.
The thing is - in the next life, we are not going to be judged by how much service we do, or how prestigious our callings were, or how severe our trials were, although these things definitely have a profound effect on it all. But this isn't a college application. We aren't trying to get accepted into some school with a scholarship. We are going to be judged (and I'm quoting Elder Scott here) on our character.
You've heard all of those quotes about how character is "who we are when no one's looking." In Elder Scott's talk, he talks about how faith is a huge contributor to changing our character for the good. Believing a result comes from certain behaviors can change the mediocrity in our lives to a perspective of joy. Knowing that the work I do at home, although monotonous and often mundane, is the work the Lord wants of me and will do amazing things to help my children become, potentially, their greatest. Well - it makes the work that much better. It changes my life from "laundry-doing-dish-washing-nose-blowing-face-washing-diaper-changing-duck-duck-goose-playing housekeeper" to Superhero!
And this acknowledgement makes me work harder at it.
But also, it makes me grateful for it. Having a heart filled with gratitude is an active way to change your passive self. When one takes the time to consciously express thanks whenever possible, their depressed and self-centered hearts become humbled. If you've ever said to yourself, "How can I become more humble?" I think making a daily effort to say thank you to your husband, your parents, your friends, your children, your Heavenly Father - that will bring to your heart the amazing things that are done for you and will humble you.
It will change your character.
Today? I am grateful for my family, my faith, my home, my life.
But I am also grateful for my mistakes, my misgivings, my moments of weakness. There is great power in life lessons learned while traveling. And while the road is bumpy, I'm grateful for the God-give opportunity to take that ride.
And I'm most grateful, above all things, that the Atonement exists to smooth out the potholes...
It was amazing how interconnected the two were.
The thing is - in the next life, we are not going to be judged by how much service we do, or how prestigious our callings were, or how severe our trials were, although these things definitely have a profound effect on it all. But this isn't a college application. We aren't trying to get accepted into some school with a scholarship. We are going to be judged (and I'm quoting Elder Scott here) on our character.
You've heard all of those quotes about how character is "who we are when no one's looking." In Elder Scott's talk, he talks about how faith is a huge contributor to changing our character for the good. Believing a result comes from certain behaviors can change the mediocrity in our lives to a perspective of joy. Knowing that the work I do at home, although monotonous and often mundane, is the work the Lord wants of me and will do amazing things to help my children become, potentially, their greatest. Well - it makes the work that much better. It changes my life from "laundry-doing-dish-washing-nose-blowing-face-washing-diaper-changing-duck-duck-goose-playing housekeeper" to Superhero!
And this acknowledgement makes me work harder at it.
But also, it makes me grateful for it. Having a heart filled with gratitude is an active way to change your passive self. When one takes the time to consciously express thanks whenever possible, their depressed and self-centered hearts become humbled. If you've ever said to yourself, "How can I become more humble?" I think making a daily effort to say thank you to your husband, your parents, your friends, your children, your Heavenly Father - that will bring to your heart the amazing things that are done for you and will humble you.
It will change your character.
Today? I am grateful for my family, my faith, my home, my life.
But I am also grateful for my mistakes, my misgivings, my moments of weakness. There is great power in life lessons learned while traveling. And while the road is bumpy, I'm grateful for the God-give opportunity to take that ride.
And I'm most grateful, above all things, that the Atonement exists to smooth out the potholes...
17 November 2010
Bursting at the Seams
I can't help it. I just love my girls. This post has nothing to do with anything other than to post pictures that I just *heart* so, from the last couple of days. Enjoy.
I absolutely love when Malia has those protective moments when she takes CC's hand. And I love even more that CC actually lets her do it. They're buddies.
I have to admit - I'm really proud of how the characters at Disneyland just lavish attention all over my girls. They see hundreds of kids a day, so you know your kids are cute when Tinkerbell's eyes go from glazed-over-zombie-stare to enthusiastic.
You would never know my girls have been on "It's a Small World" over 30 times by looking at how enthralled they are by the little parade of mechanical dolls that pops out every 15 minutes.
Goofy's House in Toontown. Just after I took this picture, CC looked down at the fake patch and said, "Uh oh! Is bwoken! Mommy, fis it!"
Always ready for her close-up... even with food in her mouth.
Every once in a while a picture of CC pops up that I just adore. This is one of those. Look at that FACE!
She's kind of excited about her Jamba Juice.
I asked Malia what she was doing. "Are you thinking? Are you tired?""No, Mommy. Sometimes I just like to be still."
HA! If only!
She is such a CA girl - she loves the warmth of the sun (you'd never know she was born during a December snowstorm in Utah).
BFFs.08 November 2010
WANTED: BFF
I sat by myself in Relief Society yesterday.
This isn't a plea for your pity, mind you. I'm just sayin'.
First, let me preface: I'll sit by anyone, anywhere, anytime. I'm one of those people at Church who prides herself on greeting or smiling at any person who passes me in the hall. Male, female, old, young, Bishop, nursery leader, Patriarch, Sunbeam. If I make eye contact, I will smile at and/or greet you. And if I don't do any of those things, I'm either doing that with someone else or on some sort of mission to the library for copies or on a "we don't have an accompanist today" salvage.
Our ward demographic is known as "the newlyweds and nearly deads." So, having said that, it's quite obvious our family is kind of... unique. There are families like ours in the ward, with young children. But the majority of those families also have kids older than Malia and have been in the ward for at least a few years longer than we have and have already found their niche' with some other family with kids the exact same age as their own. In fact, Malia is the only child in our ward her age. No other child was born in 2005. What are the odds?! And anyone's child who is even near Lili's age is also usually their youngest (hence the "older kids" reference). Thus, these mommies get together and talk about soccer games and homework and teenage drama. On the other end of the young Mommy spectrum, there are a few women who have recently had their first baby, but it's their first, and so they can't relate to me on the toddler front or even the preschooler front. There's also a surprisingly low number of stay-at-home moms (we do live in the ever-so-expensive Orange County, CA). And then, as I mentioned, the geriatrics and the newly-marrieds.
I'm not implying I can't connect with these people. I'm not saying that you have to be in the exact same season of your lives in order to find something to talk about. (Believe me - I can always find something to talk about with anyone). And as I mentioned before, my outgoing social behavior has made me many friends in the ward. When I walk into Relief Society, I am happy to admit that there can be an empty chair anywhere next to anyone, and I'll be comfortable sitting there, sharing a hymn book, and making silly comments under my breath that make them chuckle. Heck - I'm even ok bawling like a baby while answering a question. That, my friends, is comfort.
But it hit me yesterday, as I walked in a few minutes late (after one of the afore-mentioned errands) and I saw that the women who I have actually gone out with to movies and pedicures during the week had already made themselves home in the back of the room and the majority of all the other chairs were pretty much taken. I walked as inconspicuously as I could up the aisle to the empty front row. And I sat. By myself.
And I felt an overwhelming loneliness.
I am one of those people who makes friends with everyone, but struggles to find that "best" friend. Part of that is heavily-influenced by the fact that my husband is, of course, my best friend, as are my beautiful children. And part of that is the fact that, besides the already formed friendships between women who've been in this ward for a while, quite a few of them are even related to each other. I mean, who can compete with that?!
But part of it is because I'm missing that connection to that one gal. That gal pal who you meet and 15 minutes later you know, "Ok. This one works. We get each other. I can call her in my best and worst times."
In high school, it was Kelly. We were in choir together, and despite her not being LDS, we had very similar morals. She laughed at everything I did (not a necessary prerequisite, but definitely a plus). We could be incredibly silly together, immature even, and we were interested in so many of the same things. There were many late nights watching "Friends," dancing in our rooms, and quoting "Clueless." We even dressed the same (seriously - how many babydoll dresses can a girl have? And who knows how many white pairs of shoes we went through... without socks, of course). We were "untouchable" to boys due to our virtuous reputations and we prided ourselves on that. When we did have boyfriends, we never hesitated to chew each other's significant other out whenever necessary. We had dozens of acronyms that meant special things only to us and we had inside jokes that could fill a novel.
My freshman year of college, it was Alyse. We had been matched together by giving our info. to the institute director in Fullerton. There were 3 of us girls in the same apartment, but poor Jenny didn't have a chance. Alyse and I would stay up until 3 AM putting on productions in our room to Disney CDs. We'd watch X-files together while sitting on a bean bag and bury our faces into each other's shoulders when it got too scary. We both loved being total weird-os at YSA dances. She would listen when, on a bad day, I would sing and play the piano in one of the rooms at the Institute in between classes and would tell me I should take my act on the road. She helped me through heartbreak and taught me how to be boy crazy. We would both giggle when we watched "Felicity." She liked Scott Speedman and I liked Scott Foley, so it worked. We mooched rides off of people together and she was also the influence to the hair color I've now been sporting since I was 18.
Then I went to the Playmill. And there I met Celeste. And I could write an entire post alone on my friendship with her, considering we went through some of the best and worst times of both of our lives together. For two summers, she was my bestest buddy (and, occasionally, my worst enemy). To this day, I cherish the influence of her in my life more that I can truly explain. Two very similar personalities with two very similar easy-to-break hearts. Similar insecurities. Similar egos. And yet, amazingly different. We would laugh hysterically at the stupidest things. People often ran when they saw us approaching together. WARNING - TMI COMING: She is even the only reason I ever learned how to use a tampon. We were always there for each other and also did some pretty mean things to each other (me more than her. Yeah, I suck sometimes). She always forgave me. She had an incredible capacity to not only forgive, but also forget. She always made me feel intelligent, pretty, and talented. And it always felt sincere. Sometimes I like to take credit for the fact that she ever married her husband - who she now has two beautiful children with, I might add. I miss her.
And Daniel. Yeah - I know. He's a guy. But he and I were carbon copies of each other in talent and personality... aside from religion and gender. But we had crushes on the same guys, so that balanced it out. And aside from David, I spent more time with Daniel than anyone else while in Japan. Even though he and I were in the same show and cast, working together every day, we often spent our days off together. And despite his strong opinion that I would be wasting my talent if I went home, got married, and started having babies, he was one of my best support systems when I got homesick, and vice versa. He even carried me out to the taxi and rode with me to the hospital one day when I had some sort of gastro-intestinal attack and David was at work. That's love. His life has taken an incredibly different path from mine, and I can't imagine we'd have too much to talk about now that our parallels have gone perpendicular. But he, truly, was a kindred spirit in that time of our lives.
I thought maybe BFFs vanished when one got married. But I was so grateful to stumble upon Jean & Abby when we lived at Wymount. And I was even more fortunate that their husbands weren't total idiots and Dave liked them. Couple friend dynamics are a tough equation to master. Abby and I had a great bond with our music and she was so laid-back that she was a perfect balance for my antics. And Jean laughed at, literally, everything I said, even when I wasn't trying to be funny. Both of these women are two of the, maybe, 6 people I know who I can truly say are without guile. Plus, Jean and I will always have the Rapids ride at Knott's Berry Farm and Abby's ashes-rising-phoenix-of-an-ex-boyfriend will always be a good laugh (er, wait, that ended tragically, didn't it)? Those women I will cherish for the rest of my life.
But I need someone here. Geographically HERE. Someone I can call when I've had it and need to go to the park with an adult while our kids play so that I can have an intelligent conversation. Someone who saves me a seat in Relief Society because I'm her favorite. Someone who will say, "I've had a crappy day. Let's you and me go and see the dumbest movie out and binge on Coldstone." Someone who I can call, who isn't my mother, when I am struggling through a clinical case of Post-Partum Depression and who will know me well enough to validate for me that, "You're right. You're not yourself. Let's get this checked out. And I'll watch your babies for you so you can see a doctor." Someone who I'm comfortable enough with to cry to about my insecurities with my post-baby weight or my offensive inability to censor myself or my eco-centric need for attention... and loves me anyway.
Who isn't my husband (sorry, babe).
.
.
.
.
.
Anyone want to apply?
This isn't a plea for your pity, mind you. I'm just sayin'.
First, let me preface: I'll sit by anyone, anywhere, anytime. I'm one of those people at Church who prides herself on greeting or smiling at any person who passes me in the hall. Male, female, old, young, Bishop, nursery leader, Patriarch, Sunbeam. If I make eye contact, I will smile at and/or greet you. And if I don't do any of those things, I'm either doing that with someone else or on some sort of mission to the library for copies or on a "we don't have an accompanist today" salvage.
Our ward demographic is known as "the newlyweds and nearly deads." So, having said that, it's quite obvious our family is kind of... unique. There are families like ours in the ward, with young children. But the majority of those families also have kids older than Malia and have been in the ward for at least a few years longer than we have and have already found their niche' with some other family with kids the exact same age as their own. In fact, Malia is the only child in our ward her age. No other child was born in 2005. What are the odds?! And anyone's child who is even near Lili's age is also usually their youngest (hence the "older kids" reference). Thus, these mommies get together and talk about soccer games and homework and teenage drama. On the other end of the young Mommy spectrum, there are a few women who have recently had their first baby, but it's their first, and so they can't relate to me on the toddler front or even the preschooler front. There's also a surprisingly low number of stay-at-home moms (we do live in the ever-so-expensive Orange County, CA). And then, as I mentioned, the geriatrics and the newly-marrieds.
I'm not implying I can't connect with these people. I'm not saying that you have to be in the exact same season of your lives in order to find something to talk about. (Believe me - I can always find something to talk about with anyone). And as I mentioned before, my outgoing social behavior has made me many friends in the ward. When I walk into Relief Society, I am happy to admit that there can be an empty chair anywhere next to anyone, and I'll be comfortable sitting there, sharing a hymn book, and making silly comments under my breath that make them chuckle. Heck - I'm even ok bawling like a baby while answering a question. That, my friends, is comfort.
But it hit me yesterday, as I walked in a few minutes late (after one of the afore-mentioned errands) and I saw that the women who I have actually gone out with to movies and pedicures during the week had already made themselves home in the back of the room and the majority of all the other chairs were pretty much taken. I walked as inconspicuously as I could up the aisle to the empty front row. And I sat. By myself.
And I felt an overwhelming loneliness.
I am one of those people who makes friends with everyone, but struggles to find that "best" friend. Part of that is heavily-influenced by the fact that my husband is, of course, my best friend, as are my beautiful children. And part of that is the fact that, besides the already formed friendships between women who've been in this ward for a while, quite a few of them are even related to each other. I mean, who can compete with that?!
But part of it is because I'm missing that connection to that one gal. That gal pal who you meet and 15 minutes later you know, "Ok. This one works. We get each other. I can call her in my best and worst times."
In high school, it was Kelly. We were in choir together, and despite her not being LDS, we had very similar morals. She laughed at everything I did (not a necessary prerequisite, but definitely a plus). We could be incredibly silly together, immature even, and we were interested in so many of the same things. There were many late nights watching "Friends," dancing in our rooms, and quoting "Clueless." We even dressed the same (seriously - how many babydoll dresses can a girl have? And who knows how many white pairs of shoes we went through... without socks, of course). We were "untouchable" to boys due to our virtuous reputations and we prided ourselves on that. When we did have boyfriends, we never hesitated to chew each other's significant other out whenever necessary. We had dozens of acronyms that meant special things only to us and we had inside jokes that could fill a novel.
My freshman year of college, it was Alyse. We had been matched together by giving our info. to the institute director in Fullerton. There were 3 of us girls in the same apartment, but poor Jenny didn't have a chance. Alyse and I would stay up until 3 AM putting on productions in our room to Disney CDs. We'd watch X-files together while sitting on a bean bag and bury our faces into each other's shoulders when it got too scary. We both loved being total weird-os at YSA dances. She would listen when, on a bad day, I would sing and play the piano in one of the rooms at the Institute in between classes and would tell me I should take my act on the road. She helped me through heartbreak and taught me how to be boy crazy. We would both giggle when we watched "Felicity." She liked Scott Speedman and I liked Scott Foley, so it worked. We mooched rides off of people together and she was also the influence to the hair color I've now been sporting since I was 18.
Then I went to the Playmill. And there I met Celeste. And I could write an entire post alone on my friendship with her, considering we went through some of the best and worst times of both of our lives together. For two summers, she was my bestest buddy (and, occasionally, my worst enemy). To this day, I cherish the influence of her in my life more that I can truly explain. Two very similar personalities with two very similar easy-to-break hearts. Similar insecurities. Similar egos. And yet, amazingly different. We would laugh hysterically at the stupidest things. People often ran when they saw us approaching together. WARNING - TMI COMING: She is even the only reason I ever learned how to use a tampon. We were always there for each other and also did some pretty mean things to each other (me more than her. Yeah, I suck sometimes). She always forgave me. She had an incredible capacity to not only forgive, but also forget. She always made me feel intelligent, pretty, and talented. And it always felt sincere. Sometimes I like to take credit for the fact that she ever married her husband - who she now has two beautiful children with, I might add. I miss her.
And Daniel. Yeah - I know. He's a guy. But he and I were carbon copies of each other in talent and personality... aside from religion and gender. But we had crushes on the same guys, so that balanced it out. And aside from David, I spent more time with Daniel than anyone else while in Japan. Even though he and I were in the same show and cast, working together every day, we often spent our days off together. And despite his strong opinion that I would be wasting my talent if I went home, got married, and started having babies, he was one of my best support systems when I got homesick, and vice versa. He even carried me out to the taxi and rode with me to the hospital one day when I had some sort of gastro-intestinal attack and David was at work. That's love. His life has taken an incredibly different path from mine, and I can't imagine we'd have too much to talk about now that our parallels have gone perpendicular. But he, truly, was a kindred spirit in that time of our lives.
I thought maybe BFFs vanished when one got married. But I was so grateful to stumble upon Jean & Abby when we lived at Wymount. And I was even more fortunate that their husbands weren't total idiots and Dave liked them. Couple friend dynamics are a tough equation to master. Abby and I had a great bond with our music and she was so laid-back that she was a perfect balance for my antics. And Jean laughed at, literally, everything I said, even when I wasn't trying to be funny. Both of these women are two of the, maybe, 6 people I know who I can truly say are without guile. Plus, Jean and I will always have the Rapids ride at Knott's Berry Farm and Abby's ashes-rising-phoenix-of-an-ex-boyfriend will always be a good laugh (er, wait, that ended tragically, didn't it)? Those women I will cherish for the rest of my life.
But I need someone here. Geographically HERE. Someone I can call when I've had it and need to go to the park with an adult while our kids play so that I can have an intelligent conversation. Someone who saves me a seat in Relief Society because I'm her favorite. Someone who will say, "I've had a crappy day. Let's you and me go and see the dumbest movie out and binge on Coldstone." Someone who I can call, who isn't my mother, when I am struggling through a clinical case of Post-Partum Depression and who will know me well enough to validate for me that, "You're right. You're not yourself. Let's get this checked out. And I'll watch your babies for you so you can see a doctor." Someone who I'm comfortable enough with to cry to about my insecurities with my post-baby weight or my offensive inability to censor myself or my eco-centric need for attention... and loves me anyway.
Who isn't my husband (sorry, babe).
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Anyone want to apply?
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