My Best Friends: My Sisters

My sister, Heather, came for a visit this week. That meant that four out of the five sisters were here. It was fantastic! (We missed you, Rachel.) I don't know how other families are, but when we girls get together, it's complete chaos. We always end up staying awake until the wee hours of the morning (the magic time this week was 4:30 am) talking, laughing, and crying until our throats and sides are sore. There was more crying than usual this time (three out of the four of us were a bit emotional), but it was nice to have each other to lean on. I miss that. I miss reminiscing about old times and making fun of our "whiskey tango" childhood. I miss having people around me who love me unconditionally; people who know who I was but still love who I am. I sometimes wonder how we all turned out so normal, considering some of the crap we went through. I feel grateful I didn't have to go through as much as my older siblings, but I'm happy for the lot I was given. I'm a stronger person because of it, and I don't regret a thing. Ok, maybe that's not the complete truth. But...I have learned from it all, and I try to use that in times (like now) when I don't feel quite so strong. I'm learning to find strength within myself. But when it's difficult to find that strength, it's nice to know I have four wonderful friends I can turn to: My sisters.

PS: I hate this picture of me, but it's the most recent picture I have of all of us

Celebrity crush

I just have two things to say about this video. First, I really miss Kidd Kraddick in the Morning. A lot. I'm so glad I can go to YouTube to get my KKITM fix (podcasts are heaven-sent as well).

Second...oh my gosh, I think I have a celebrity crush. Listen to this guy sing! His voice gives me the chills. Plus, he's so darn cute. I've watched this video three times now. Ha ha!

The end.

Breakable

I love LOVE love this song....and Ingrid Michaelson. She is amazing. End of story.

My love language

I've been thinking a lot lately about the power of touch. Quite a few months back, Chrissy gave us a quiz to determine our love language. Mine was physical touch. My close friends laughed when they heard this because they know how freaked out I can be when the wrong person touches me. That's because touch can either be a very positive or a very negative thing, depending on where it's coming from. I offer some recent examples.

On Friday night I slept over at my sister's house. Early this morning I woke up to the feeling of little hands touching my feet. A moment later, I opened my eyes to see this cute little face (Austin) peering over the couch at me.


He was beaming with excitement and exclaimed "Becky!" He was just thrilled to see me. Following closely behind him was this little guy (Liam, 3-1/2 years):

I opened up my blanket, and both kiddos crawled up onto the couch to cuddle with me. It was the best wakeup call ever! A little while later I stumbled into the living room where they were watching cartoons. Austin saw me come in and again squealed "Becky!" He then started patting the couch, motioning for me to sit by him, so I obeyed. After I sat down, he scooted over into the crook of my arm and leaned up against me for the next 30 minutes. It melts my heart to even think about it. These are examples of the good kind of touching, the kind that I can't get enough of.

Sometimes, however, touch has quite the opposite affect. Tonight was the adult session of stake conference. I got there right before it started and quickly found a seat. One of my friends came and sat in the chair to my left. Instead of sitting in the middle of his chair, though, he decided to sit so he was practically in my lap. I kept scooting more and more to my right to avoid being smashed up against him. No such luck; he responded to that by leaning even closer. Then he kept nudging me with his shoulder, trying to get my attention. When I would look over at him, he would respond with a "bouncing eyebrow" and a grin. I failed to see the humor in that situation. The whole time I kept comparing his size to the size of every other person around me. Could he possibly be so big that he can't help but spill over into my personal space? Nope, not the case. So I spent most of the session with my arms tightly folded, trying to make myself as small as possible. At one point, he even reached over and started rubbing my hand, asking if I was cold. I quickly jerked away (pure reflex), and now I feel bad because I think he was offended. It was awkward beyond awkward, though. I was just so uncomfortable, wishing I would have stayed home to study. That is the kind of thing that makes people think I'm anti-touch. If my instinct is to flinch when you touch me, there's likely something wrong (i.e., don't touch me).

While touching sends powerful messages, so does NOT touching. I've had this conversation with a few of you, some of whom think I'm a whack-job for feeling this way. I'm gonna repeat it anyway. When I'm dating a guy I feel like there needs to be a bit of physical contact after you've been out a few times. Don't get me wrong, I'm not the type who wants my date to be hanging all over me (especially not in public) or who wants too much physical contact too quickly. A little bit of physical affection would be nice though: hold my hand, put your arm around me, hug me, sit close to me, touch my hair... something! Sweet words are nice -- and they certainly make me smile -- but if you make no effort to touch me, I'm going to forget all of that sweetness and worry that you're not really interested after all (no matter how many times you tell me you are). Dating without any sort of physical contact puts you dangerously close to the friend zone. I'm just sayin'...

Sad Songs

I don't know what my deal has been this weekend, but I've just been in a funk. There's really no reason for this. My life is fantastic right now. And I actually had a pretty good weekend, spent with people I genuinely care about. I guess I just needed a sad day (or two) to counteract all the happiness I've felt in the past month or so. I'm actually not an Elton John fan (at all!), but this song fits my mood perfectly tonight. It’s funny because I even have a playlist on my iPod for days like these. It's called (you guessed it!) "Sad Songs." It's full of all the depressing songs that make me want to curl up in a ball and cry the night away. I haven't listened to it in a while but may need to tonight so I can release all of this negative energy. I’ll be fine in the morning.

Girls: Don’t deny the fact that you know just what I’m talking about - sometimes you just need a good cry.
Guys: Yes, we’re all crazy. There, I said it.

Facebook Overload

My fabulous roommate, Sara, and I were just discussing how silly Facebook is...particularly about being friends with everyone and their dog (and their dog's friends). Five minutes later, I logged on and saw this article. Oh my goodness! That is SOOO me (with the exception of the "top 10 warning signs," most of which don't really apply). Sara recently deleted a bunch of people from her friend list and has gotten it down into the double digits. I, on the other have just surpassed the 400 friends mark, and it kind of makes me sick. What started out as a novel way to keep in touch with old friends has gotten way out of control. I am now trying to catch up with all sorts of people that I didn't even know that well before we got "back in touch." Is this really necessary? Do I really need to be Facebook friends with everyone I saw one time across the room at church? Or with every person in my high school graduating class? Or the girl who sat behind me in Spanish class three semesters ago? They are all lovely people, so where do I draw the line? Should I go through and delete people I don't know all that well? I want to keep in touch with people, but it's gotten way out of hand. How do I decide who is "worthy" of keeping in contact with and who is not? What have you done to avoid this Facebook overload?

An unlikely gentleman

Chivalry is not dead. When I got on the tram this morning, it was standing room only. People continued to pile in, so everyone kept squeezing closer and closer together. As I took off my backpack to put it on the floor, a young guy (about 21 years old) looked up and offered me his seat. My first instinct was to decline, but I realized I should be supporting that kind of behavior. Plus, I really didn't want to hold onto that germ-infested bar anymore. That simple act really impressed me. It’s not often that a young guy (especially outside of our Church) does something like that. It really made my day. So thank you to the sweet college boy who gave up his seat for me. And thank you to all of you gentlemen who make it a habit to respect and honor women with those simple acts of kindness, such as holding doors open and giving up your seat on a crowded bus. I appreciate you!