when your life becomes gilmore girls.

they told me, over and over again that this was it.

but i kept telling myself that everyone leaves.
that it isn't real.

i guess, someone sees you so vulnerable and it's hard to imagine they'll see you in any other way.
that even though you've changed and grown, that they'll only remember your tear-stained face in the corner.

but then he does stay.
and he tells me i'm beautiful.

and i just can't.

there is no reason for it.

i should be in love with the person in front of me. the person offering forever.

but i'm not.

and it breaks my heart that i can't give him this one thing when he has given me everything.

church christmas dinner.

pouring rain.

wet shoes climbing a ladder.

heavy box overhead, while descending a ladder.

prayers that if i fall and die someone will find me soon.

safe landing.

wondering why i still haven't bought new windshield wipers.

u-turn for teeth brushing; wouldn't want dream boy to suffer.

bff jill saves the day.

psycho yells at me.

meet gaze with dream boy and ignore her.

people thinking i'm in charge.

happy about sitting under the chandelier. 

sad that dream boy is in another room.

peppermint dessert to die for.

hiding upstairs to have secret conversations.

spontaneous duet.

nearly choking on a cough drop.

frequent eye contact with dream boy.

bishop telling us to focus on perfecting ourselves.

distracted by the perfect ornaments and twinkling lights.

SANTA.

skinny santa?

lots of girls vying for dream boy's attention.

i throw a napkin at his head. [see above.]

he comes to me.

bff jill and flyza conveniently leave us alone. wink.

sporadic cleaning.

muscles and chest hair.

subtly following dream boy back inside.

watching psycho corner and interrogate him.

appreciating that he is so polite.

knowing i'll never jump in and save him because she'd probably yell at me again.

marveling at christmas decorations from tai pan.

wanting to steal the peppermint dessert.

awkward laughing at random boy's "jokes".

walking between psycho and dream boy to interrupt and say goodbye. [and get attention.]

he kicks me.

daydreaming all the way home.

crying.

epiphany on love.

You know that Ingrid Michaelson song? The one that was on that Grey's episode a while back; the one about snow. This one:


I was listening to it yesterday and had to stop my car because it hit me.

I love snow.
Snow melts.

But it doesn't matter how many times it melts or summer comes around, I still love snow.

It's almost like the snow being gone makes me appreciate it more.

Well, shouldn't love be the same way? It's supposed to be soft and quiet and unexpected.
It's supposed to shock and awe you.

Yes, sometimes it's going to fade. Sometimes the wind is going to blow it away.

But we shouldn't waste all our time being upset that it melted.
We should just be excited that it's going to come again. Maybe this time it will come faster and harder. And maybe this time it will stay longer.

Maybe this time you will be better prepared.

I'm trying to focus on the happy 'maybe's in life.

I've been waiting for midnight.

Guys, I'm thankful that I still haven't been forced to see the last Twilight movie. (Or any of the other Twilight movies.)

I'm grateful for electric blankets since I still haven't coerced a certain male into cuddling with me.

I'm thankful that I'm not a vegetarian, because rib eye steak.

I'm grateful for Target; especially their clearance sections.

I'm thankful that my brother said today that he's happy I was born. That's practically him saying he loves me.

I'm grateful for brownies and mint chocolate chip ice cream.

And I'm thankful for Gerard Butler's bum and face and biceps. And the parts in between too.
And that wasn't meant to sound scandalous...

What are you thankful for?

It is not the end.

President Uchtdorf:

“No matter how bleak the chapter of our lives may look today, because of the life and sacrifice of Jesus Christ, we may hope and be assured that the ending of the book of our lives will exceed our grandest expectations.
“And to all who suffer—to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely—I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in. Never surrender. Never allow despair to overcome your spirit. Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart.”

the long and complicated story of my recovery.

Today I finally reached the surface of the water; I took my first breath, and was filled with life once again.

As I work through the events of the past year I am overcome with the lessons I have learned. Overcome with feelings of love and gratitude.

There are two people who know my struggle. Not even my parents know, unless of course they are now reading this. I've given hints and passing sentences, but not details. I won't even attempt to do that here.

You see, eleven months ago I decided that I was going to end my life.

I wouldn't share this except that I feel it will help convey the seriousness with which I take the following. My reason for returning to this blog, isn't to discuss my downward spiral, it's to share my journey of swimming back up. To share the reasons why I can once again, call myself a dreamer.

The first flotation device I was thrown:
I had been underwater for a long time; I'd long since run out of oxygen. And then a boy named Nate showed up on my doorstep and told me so many sweet things. He told me sweet things and I, in my self-deprecating state, was less than sweet in return. I was down-right awful to him, actually. Mostly because I had such low self-esteem that I couldn't believe he meant the things he said, and partly because I had been a sincere jerk my whole life, and didn't quite know how else to respond to people.

But his efforts showed me that someone cared, and before that I had felt so invisible, so irrelevant. His kindness and forever-happy spirit showed me that I could make decisions to progress. I could kick my legs and fight to get to the surface. He unknowingly started pulling, while for the first time I started fighting.

The second flotation device:
I had made progress. Plans of how and when and where to end my life no longer plagued every thought. But after sinking for so long, my muscles simply couldn't fight anymore. I began to stagnate my ascent. I learned to fake-swim -- to look like I was working and happy, but still wasn't at all. At this point, no one knew of my struggle. I remember I was at church for the first time in months and people asked how I was. Each time I would enthusiastically reply that I was wonderful, that my life was lovely. Then once, after someone had walked away, I heard a voice over my shoulder. Riley told me that my answer was the most fake thing he had ever heard me say.

I was caught. Embarrassed and enraged and guilty, I hastily made up an excuse and went on with my day. But his blunt reaction taught me that I wasn't fooling someone, and that knowledge made me wonder if I was even fooling anyone. I could no longer fake it till I made it. I had to actually do something.

This is where the fight gets hazy. "Isn't it funny how day by day, nothing changes. But when you look back, everything is different?" - C.S. Lewis

All I know is that there was a lot of prayer. A lot of church. A lot of looking outside myself. A lot of kicking, a lot of screaming.

Mostly, there was hope:
Hope for air. Hope for happiness. Hope for good days.

I would pick landmarks and swim to them as fast as I could. Birthday parties, trips, and holidays. Anything that required celebration and was in the future. I started to make things exciting so that I would look forward to them. I listened to Dory and just kept swimming.

As I got closer and closer to shore, the water would get brighter and clearer. So many times I had thought I had broken through, only to realize that I was still amid a battle. But I could see things better, I could see how far I had come and finally I had something within myself to propel me forward.

Then there were two life vests thrown toward me:
Combined because they are brothers, Kyle and Nathan taught me that a person can be wholesome and pure while being outrageously funny and pleasant. They taught me that not all males are inappropriate. Not all males are jerks. They showed me what men act like.

These men reminded me of laughter. Of teasing and frustrated giggles. They have changed my perception of and  renewed my faith in marriage. After coming to dry land, I learned that I have a mountain to climb. But these two taught me that although it will be a difficult road, it can be filled with joy and lots of silliness.

Finally, there was learning:
I have learned that progress is progress and that is worth celebrating.

I have learned that the greatest gift you can give someone is the benefit of the doubt.

I have learned that celery is not poison, especially when it is covered in peanut butter.

I have learned that water doesn't have to drown you; that from the right source, water can fill you and lift you higher than you ever thought possible.

I've learned that there are men in my midst. Men that are clean and respectable and gentlemen and fun. Men that make me laugh. I've learned most of these lessons from men younger than me, but who have such a better grasp on life than I do.

I have learned that dating is the worst, but it is nice to be asked on dates nonetheless.

I have learned that I have an infinite ability to work. For happiness, and money and an education. I have power and means and time. Oh, how lovely the gift of time is.

I have learned that I can run, and I've learned to love the pain that comes after strengthening my muscles.

I have learned about all my flaws and imperfections, my tendencies to judge and gossip. I have learned that I can be tolerant and kind. I have not perfected this, but I am growing every day.

I've learned that JoAnna is the most incredible woman on the planet, and I am so happy to call her my beautiful best friend. I am so lucky to have had her by my side through this whole journey, and thank my lucky stars that she continues support me and offer her sunshine to me every day.

I have learned that dark days come to an end. That there is light at the end of the tunnel. You have to walk toward it though.

I have learned that no one can encroach on my ability to be righteous. No one can hinder me from pleasing God. No one can halt my journey. This makes it easier to move on, even when they treat me badly.

I have learned that lipstick isn't evil. It makes you feel fancy and grown-up.

I have learned that tears are healthy. They dry like raindrops, and are always followed by rainbows.

I have learned that you can cry a river of tears, but that you should probably build a boat first.

I have learned that Jesus Christ is the way, the light and the truth. He is the son of God. He is my brother. I have been a believer my whole life, but now I know the reality of His mission. He has given me a life worth living.

I have learned to forgive myself.

tell me you feel this.

better than revenge.

It began with birthday cake. Riley pinched out the candle flame before the song was over and I yelled at him. He quickly re-lit and made a new wish so it would actually come true.

Next, the games began. So much water was squirted and dumped. Balloons and guns and sprinklers. Then Riley brought out a literal bow and arrow and proceeded to shoot everyone, because he 'was trying to make it realistic.'

Don't worry, Kari. It's padded. He said. It will be fun. He said.

The odds were not in my favor.

With the water sources depleted, my heart calmed down. Until he placed me in a death-grip. The more I fought back the tighter the hold. Soon, he brings me to the ground. Best friend comes to save me -- he brings her down while still holding me. Not sure if I should be fearful of or impressed by his strength. Minutes later, Anna and I both surrender.

Riley receives death threats and glares from my mascara stained face.

Dry clothes are found as the men set up our backyard movie.

He gives me an apology hug and I dump a bottle of freezing cold water on his head.

Us girls decide the best punishment is cuddling with someone else during the movie.

And then Peeta's face. Movie giggles. Frozen boys.

A perfect end to summer.

bachelor pad.

the best part is knowing boys in real-life that have said the exact same things about girls i know.

or is it the worst part?

“What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again.” - Mockingjay

he knows i'm not good with surprises.

he opened the passenger door for me. my only instruction was to look at the piece of paper on the front seat.
i didn't know where we were going or what was waiting for us.

the paper was blank; i laughed as he walked around front and got in the driver's seat.
before i could question it, he took every color of pen from the center console and handed them to me.

you're going to draw a picture.


of what? i asked.

of everything that is stressing you out; everything that makes you mad and sad and frustrated.


then, we started driving. and driving.

twenty minutes into the desert i had drawn and written down everything i could think of.
[including a picture of the jerk-face sharks that eat baby sea turtles, which i had reluctantly watched on PBS the night before.]


we turned onto a dirt road.

is it hard to talk positively while writing negatively?


he can read minds.

we came to a stop. i folded up the paper and gave it to him.

from the back he pulled a cardboard box and placed my pain inside.

he hammered a stake into the dust and placed the box on top. a target was taped to the outside, and within seconds he placed hearing protectors on my head and a handgun in my palm.

and then i shot six rounds.

he reloaded.

i shot again.

and again.

and again.

and that was it.

he complimented my accuracy. we got back in the car and he drove me home.

my thumb is black and blue. i have a blood blister on my pinky.
battle scars i proudly show off.

but with them is a hole in my heart.
for a boy that picked me up on a saturday night, just to help me relieve stress.
when he has an even heavier load to carry.

"The problem with fairy tales is that they set a girl up for disappointment. In real life, the prince goes off with the wrong princess." -- Gossip Girl

i've fallen for your eyes, but they don't know me yet.

aftermath.

abandonment was her matress,

a firm, cold reality
that dreams don't come true.
her heartache collects dust,
and no maid comes to clean it.

as time passes, her memory remains.
a boy from months past
continues to be seen --
in flashes and wishes
and fairytale books.
a toad in disguise
keeps her heart closed; confined.

no bedtime story
or soft, lullabye
can return the hope
that once lived in her mind.
wishes on stars are willed to come true, 
but often,
so often,
they fall out of the sky.

her heart,
not quite broken or missing,
is just simply trapped,
in a world full of dragons and swords.
with no knight coming bravely,
and no kiss on her lips
to help her wake up.

i rant and you unfollow me.

Subtitle: There's a big difference between knowing what you deserve, and believing it exists.

Today in church someone spoke about how often the reason [especially for men] that people aren't married is because they're afraid of commitment.

Everyone... everyone, laughed. Except me.
Straight-faced, I nodded my head. I agree whole-heartedly.

It's like that line from a Taylor Swift song, 'I brace myself for the goodbye, because it's all I've ever known.'

And it's not so much that I'm afraid of committing to someone. I just have a hard time believing that someone will commit to me forever.


And why is there this notion that we have to remain friends with someone who walked away from us? What do I owe them?

If someone is going to commit to me, obviously I will do everything I can to put them first. But if they break that commitment, I resume first priority.

And I do not want to use my time and energy keeping someone happy, who doesn't even want me in their life.

Dating is the worst.

"All your theories on love sound more like the rantings of a bitter and cynical woman." - The Wedding Planner

you took the words right out of my [non-anesthetized] mouth.

Hannah Moore wrote, "So weak is man, so ignorant and blind, that did not God sometimes withhold in mercy what we ask, we should be ruined at our own request."

found on my computer. [remember how i love gnomes?]

The following was found this evening while clearing up memory on my computer, for no other reason than I was waiting for a load of laundry to finish. I don't remember when I wrote this, or that I even had, but my mind cracks me up. Perhaps, novel material. ;) Ha!

------------------


As most men do, he was not living up to his potential. I met him as he was riding on the back of a turtle-- an attempt to speed up his journey. It takes an awfully lazy creature to determine that a turtle is faster than their own two feet. Gnomes are rather boring creatures; that is, with exception to their phenomenal arguing skills. Being wrong is never an option for a gnome. In that way, they’d make great lawyers.


As a young girl I was taught that men were chivalrous and I was to be distressed and waiting for their help. Then I grew up, and learned that at least the second part was true. It seemed situations always got the better of me. Yet, there was still engrained within my soul, hope that perhaps my mother was right about men.


This hope should have been shattered when I learned that my prince was in fact charming, but was only that way so as to distract me from his thieving and lying. My hope should have been erased when I learned that my husband was responsible for my father’s death. Certainly, my hope in the goodness of men should have been taken when I was kidnapped by a small army of them.


Despite the world sending me signal after signal that my mother had lied to me, I still hoped. I was sitting on the muddy ground, chained to a towering oak tree when I exercised my faith in men one last time. I weakly called out to the gnome, slowly trotting by on his turtle.


“Sir,” my voice trembled at first, “Sir, could you please help me?”


“Bah! Can’t you see I’m in a great hurry? It is none of my worry that you got yourself tangled up in misfortune. I see no reason to put a hold on my journey, and wrap myself in your troubles.”


Seeing this slothful maggot would be of no use to me, I directed my next words toward the turtle. “Mighty fine traveler you have there. I do hope you charge extra to listen to his delightful ramblings.”


The turtle stopped for a moment and nodded in my direction. A man of few words; I liked that.


The gnome was not about to be ignored, “Missy, I suspect that tongue of yours is precisely the reason you’re stuck to that tree. Perhaps the wolves will take it off your hands; if you stay here long enough, you’ll find out. Then again, they may not be able to stop at eating your tongue. Hungry creatures, wolves are.” The chubby little man chuckled a little too hard and nearly fell off his perch.


As he collected himself I grasped a tiny little pebble and flicked it directly into his forehead. Although it was smaller than a button on his shirt, it knocked him off the turtle.


I should warn you to never attack a gnome when you are not in a position to run away. The wretched little thing bit my toe, and much like when a piece of parchment slices the top of your finger, I could feel nothing but excruciating pain.


The awful thing then climbed atop my leg and although he was hardly taller than my longest finger, managed to make my insides turn in the most awful way. I became instantly fearful for my life; there is nothing like being locked in place to make a tiny person seem awfully large and menacing.


“You silly little girl,” he cried as he made his way shakily up to my knee, “never attack a man who is on vacation. He’ll have much more energy to fight back when his mind is not bogged down with other things.” He placed his stubby arms on his hips and tapped his foot. He seemed to be waiting for an apology.

apparently.

if you go to fred meyer's and buy flowers and ice cream,
the coupon machine thinks you are on your period.
they would be correct.
just in case you are a man, they also throw in a coupon for batteries.

just because you have a suspicious bruise and a sprained ankle that seems to not be healing, it does not mean you have leukemia.

a love for all things lime, does not erase your fear of fruit being an ingredient in dessert.
key lime pie is still my favorite flavor of yogurt, even though i don't care for the real thing.

garden gnomes do not clean your bedroom while you're away.
lazy bums.

swimming is the only* available activity during the summer.
heaven forbid we should be creative.
*note: heavy sarcasm.

the sno cone shack girl will make you a large sno cone when you ordered a medium.
but she'll only charge you for a medium and give you several coupons as an apology.
don't you just hate it when you get more than you deserve?
"it's like, i don't even care what happens the rest of the day." -- himym

and apparently, sunshine yellow and tiffany blue nail polish do not exist. rude.

"A person wants to stand in a happy place, in a poem." 
-- Mary Oliver, Singapore

well-balanced diet.

my dinner tonight consisted of tortilla chips, 2 egg rolls, a sleeve of oreos and a handful of starbursts.

i'm going to make a fan-freaking-tastic mother one day.

forget solving world-hunger,

what the world really needs is baby toupees.

if you love yourself, you'll go to this website.

pouty face.

irony is seeing the man you're in love with, while you're on a date with someone else.

my friends are better than yours.

my little friend/gnome to your left is evidence of my affection for porcelain garden-guardians. [say that ten times, fast.]

for my birthday this year, mr. chivalrous bought me my first-ever gnome.

and then yesterday i was at my bff jill's house and she gave me a planter gnome, and a watering can gnome. for no reason, other than she is awesome.

So, the planter gnome on top is named Joe after bff JoAnna.

The watering can was named Patrick after I accidentally kicked him over and said, 'Sorry Patrick.'

And my wheelbarrow gnome from Mr. Chivalrous is named Carl Herbert.

You should be jealous that your friends don't contribute to your irrational collections.

oh, utah.

draper chuck-a-rama.
nicknamed up-chuck a-rama since i forgot that i was allergic to potatoes for thirty seconds and consumed them.

baby poop explosion. outfit change. "that's a lot of patterns for one little boy."

"it's either king burger or burger king... i think it's king burger. but we went there."

7/11 slurpees.

family reunion.
grandma didn't recognize me even though she spent a week at my house last month.
grandma saying that uncle kevin was an ugly baby and that my mom cried all the time.

my introduction speech consisting of "I'm Kari. I'm 22. And my husband is off becoming a billionaire. He hasn't met me yet, but he's excited."

humanitarian center tour. guilt trips all around. prayers of gratitude shared all day.

best sloppy joes of my life. aunt julie is a mad chef.

lots of kissing on this face:

driving past lagoon what seemed like fourteen times a day -- breaking my heart a little each time.

target in every city along the way.

late-night talks in harmon's.

wits and wagers. worst game ever made.

hangry's.

tie thieving for free donuts.

proof that even the most dreadful of places can be magical if you have the right company.

lets all go to lagoon on July 28th. Okay? Perfect.

since his return from a stay on the moon.

"I'm afraid that [he] might think of me as:
Plain ol' Jane told a story about a man
Who was too afraid to fly so he never did land."
- Drops of Jupiter, Train

there was this over-whelming distance.

this barrier that only needed time to fall.

as the seconds grew shorter, her heart beat faster.

his presence fell closer and her breaths,

farther apart.

she could imagine his chuckle, his soft smile.

confident dreaming could sustain her aching heart.

her mind was restless; too trusting in rumors.

until she forced herself to replace her hope

with reality.

her mind redirected, but still her heart

chased after a shooting star--out of reach.

her mind reinforced the barrier's strength.

whispers slipped through the cracks; her heart

beat on.

displaced and erased again and again,

her feelings fought through and her love,

her adoration remained for him. a boy

of few words, whose glance turned her knees

into eggshells.

**Summer-school should be forbidden for future doctors that I'm infatuated with. Okay?

temple trip.

Sno cones.
Balloons for the birthday boy.
Remember when I had a thirty minute crush on him? ... The Bishop?!?
Avril.
The Bachelorette. Charlie is mine.
Out-dancing the other vehicles.
Honking at the bride on the side of the road.
Photo-bombing wedding photos.
Ian offering his hand to each of the ladies as they walk down the stairs.
Being mistaken for fourteen-year-olds more than once.
Standing awkwardly in a towel waiting for a locker.
Tattoos at Pizza Hut. No unicorns -- boycotting from now on.
Successfully spilling water on four tables.
Singing happy birthday to Kyle.
Awkward silence when you realize that it is also another boy's birthday.
Second round of happy birthday, sung with shame.
Impromptu trip to WinCo for birthday cake.
Biting off the tip of an icing bottle to write Kyle's name on the cake.
Knowing that if Riley had come, he'd have had several weapons that would have done a better job.
Feeling like the worst friend ever when Kyle throws up the cake in the parking lot.
Watching a bird eat Kyle's puke.
Changing in a gas station parking lot.
Under the shirt slip drop.
Taylor Swift lip stick.
I'm marrying Chris Young.
"Woah! That is trendy!"
Random stop for the driver to reminisce.
Birthing babies.
I'm Sexy and I Know It.
Boyfriend.
Call Me, Maybe.
Changing lyrics to Taylor Swift songs so that they're about Ian.
Lightning storms.
Hiccup laughs.
Aching abs.
"Come to Jesus!"

it just breaks my heart.

"He saved me... in every way that a person can be saved." - Titanic

And now, that his little puppy-dog face is sad,

I just can't take it.

I just want to hug him and make everything better.

I want to punch whomever/whatever is upsetting him.

I wish I could fix everything for him.

Tear.

Poor Mr. Chivalrous. :(

to the first person to make me better without changing me at all.

I'm going to go all sappy-girl on you in this letter; if I told you in person I'd probably cry and that's gross.
I just need you to know that you're wonderful:

When you got home from your mission, I kind of forced you to be my friend. And since you are a kind person, you didn't argue. I can't even tell you how grateful I am for that.

I hadn't been a good person for a long time. I was negative and cynical and selfish. And you just patted me on the head and lived your life. Soon enough, I started to notice how you spent your time and the choices you made. I saw how selfless you were and how responsible you were. I learned to trust you.

Which is pretty much the hardest thing for me to do -- trust people. But, time and again you proved that your actions matched your words. That you would follow through. I didn't trust myself, but I trusted you. I appreciate that you have opinions and goals; I appreciate that you don't ever conform for anyone. Because for pretty much my whole life, conforming is all I've done.

You taught me that my thoughts and feelings matter, because you always listened to my rants and took my side even though I am irrational and melodramatic. [And let's face it, usually in the wrong.]

For the first time in a long time, I feel happy. And I know most of that stems from the example that you've been to me. You are a lovely person and I'll continue to randomly show up on your doorstep with cookies, because you really have taught me to accept myself, to feel God's love, and to be better. And I owe you.

Also, I will totally beat down anyone for you because they're stupid and deserve it.

a second chance.

Wild Geese -- Mary Oliver

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal of your body

love what it loves.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting --

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things.

This has been my favorite poem for a long time now.

Tonight I was driving home from a very fun evening and was thinking about how far I've come in the last few months.

I've traveled the spectrum of emotion over and over again and still, I am startled by happiness. Startled by confidence.

Tonight I danced and jumped and dove-in face first. I laughed and I counted the things I'm looking forward to. I won.

Back in January this poem was all that kept me going. I simply have to allow myself to love what I love. I have to let the world turn and imagine better things.

Today I consciously saw progress. I looked in the mirror and smiled. I felt funny again. I saw my personality.

I've dreamt of today; of overcoming sorrow and trials. But today wasn't a dream -- it was finally real.

I have prayed for a day when I would be excited about life again.

And it is here.

"To every thing there is a season; and a time to every purpose under heaven.

A time to weep and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance.

He hath made every thing beautiful in his time..." - Ecclesiastes 3:1,4,11

because we all love sara and crying.

"Tell me why it will be good again.
All those demons are closing in.
And I don't want you to burn.
Nevermind what I said before;
I don't want any less anymore...


I wouldn't need a second chance."

grey's anatomy.

why are you the worst show ever made?

i just cry and cry.

i connect and i feel.

and then you just kill everyone!

ugh. i hate that i love you.

"I had a talk with myself about that;
turns out I'm okay with it." - Prom

taylor-written messages to boys that i know.

"You come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you." - Cold as You

"He can't see the smile I'm faking and my heart's not breaking 'cause I'm not feeling anything at all." - The Way I Loved You

"I brace myself for the goodbye 'cause it's all I've ever known." - Mine

"He will try to take away my pain, and he just might make me smile but the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead." - Haunted

"I'll keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are. I hope it's nice where you are, and I hope the sun shines and it's a beautiful day, and something reminds you, you wish you had stayed. You can plan for a change in the weather and time, but I never planned on you changing your mind... All that I know is I don't know how to be something you miss." - Last Kiss

"Do you have anything here besides Mexican food?"
- The Three Amigos

my husband is the best.

Today I was crazy in the biggest sense of the word. I was sick to my stomach, nervous beyond belief, and extra self-conscious. It was like being on my period but forty thousand times worse because it wasn't explainable.

There was literally no reason to be stressed out.

So I started making up reasons; making it all the more horrible.

Anyway, I'm frantic and near-tears all day and at the end of my shift my sweet, sweet work-husband told me:

"Wifey, when we get home I'm going to put all the kids to bed and I'm going to make you a candlelit dinner. And we, we're going to have a night to ourselves."

And even though it was a complete joke, and we're not even dating, it was all I needed to hear.

My panicked little heart calmed down. (Okay, I maybe almost lost it and started crying happy tears.) My breathing returned to normal and all was well.

Sometimes we just need a fake, at-work husband to remind us that life isn't as awful as our minds would have us believe.

growing up.

I keep seeing pieces of you. In the laughter of old friends. In the kindness of strangers. I feel your strength pushing me to overcome fears.

There is so much comfort in feeling you near. I can sense your close presence and it's the most bitter/sweet feeling. Bitter because you're still unknown and distant. Sweet because this familiarity gives me hope.

Years ago I said that I was already falling in love with you, even though we had never met. Today, I felt that rush once again. This overwhelming trust that you exist and are in a similar place, even if it isn't the same as me. I appreciate this notion that you're already here.

I wish occasionally, that the future were here and we were together. But today I became thankful for the time I still have left. I appreciate the blessing of opportunity; I can still change and grow into the woman you deserve. I pray for time to become everything I want to give you.

Divorce is my biggest fear, and lately it seems that even the strongest of couples are choosing it. But lately, I've been filled with faith that my life can be different if I choose to make it so. I'm in charge; now that I'm taking down that tall, protective wall, I am seeing these little pieces of you come in through the cracks.

And I adore everything that I see. I adore you -- the man I haven't met.

The husband that I will someday call mine.


I may have to be patient for several more years or several more months, but either way I hope that I continue to use the time I'm given for improvement. Not for clinging to disappointments of the past or fear of future heartache. I hope that I focus on the growth of myself and the service of others.

You are my every birthday wish and my daily motivation. You may be somewhere else or with someone else today, but someday you'll be mine.

goodnight.

The last year of my life was exceptionally awful, so tonight on the eve of my 22nd birthday, I let off a floating lantern. With it, left the past. I sent all my feelings of regret and sorrow and hurt.

Tomorrow night, I'll send off a second with a wish for the future. A wish to find love and happiness in every moment of my life. A wish to bring that same love and happiness to all I meet. A wish for change and improvement.

Hopefully Flynn Rider will be by my side tomorrow.

reasons i think you should see the lucky one.

[I rarely sit through a movie and upon sight of the credits, immediately want to watch it again. With The Lucky One I did.
And if you are even remotely attracted to Zac Efron... well, lets just say that in this movie he could turn a straight guy gay.]

1. Taylor Schilling is so so so relatable. Her facial expressions held so much emotion. Numerous times I could tell exactly what she was thinking. I feel like this is so rare now in Hollywood.

2. The little boy is the perfect amount of adorable and innocent. Usually child actors just have a cute face, but he was actually talented. You could see the conflict and hurt in his eyes in some scenes and the contrast of pure happiness in other scenes.

3. Nana! Holy bananas, she made me want to be old. I already struggle with wanting to be 80, and she sealed the deal. One of those well-written characters that are equally hilarious and wise. So many funny moments occurred thanks to her.

4. Only a little bit of crying; unlike other Nicolas Sparks' book-to-movie films where you leave the theater in hysterics. There were only a couple tender moments, so if you don't cry easily then you'll be dry-faced the entire time.

5. The special hugging. I feel like I shouldn't say anymore...

6. Zac Efron with puppies.

7. Zac Efron shirtless.

8. Zac Efron playing the piano.

9. Zac Efron with puppies.

10. Zac Efron dancing.

11. Zac Efron with puppies.

12. Zac Efron playing with a child.

13. Zac Efron with puppies!


I will say though, that the military Zac wasn't so good... His acting was a bit rocky there, but it's such a small part of the movie.

animal.

i feel like i should be sad for my bff jill that John Tucker took a break from her, but the last two days with her have been so fun. i'm really about to cry at the thought of how much i love that girl. we're planning a double wedding because we both know i'll die if i don't get married at the same time as her.

people do not bash t swift in my house. no no no. she is on a throne -- you don't have to like her music but you must respect her.

hello, attractive man at the dance tonight who told me and bff jill that we looked wonderful. you are at the top of my favorite list today.

applebees, your food sucks. why do i forget this? also, the waitress you gave me tonight was not impressive. the first time in my life that i did not leave a good tip.
the entire staff of texas roadhouse was there tonight and in uniform. i found this more funny than it was.

don't leave your camera unattended. i will take pictures of myself and others. i do not apologize to the stranger whose camera i obtained this evening.

i could high-five this girl who is always wearing giant English hats every day. every day. church too. you truly inspire me to embrace my quirks.
"You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves." - Mary Oliver


line dancing will always be my activity of choice. cupid shuffle. cha cha slide. i love them all.

my lovely friend cut my hair today. she gave me texas hair. it was amazing.
now i need to watch gcb.

tomorrow i get to meet zac efron. mmm mmm mmm.

i just have a lot of feelings...

Sometimes I forget that Josh Hutcherson will not fall in love with me. You don't need to remind me; if you try, I will eat you.

Sometimes I need to eat seven desserts in one sitting because I'm hormonal.

Sometimes I don't understand how nerd/blacklight can be considered a dance theme. I will dress accordingly anyway.

Sometimes I play board games with the sole purpose of making sure that that one obnoxious person loses.

Sometimes I get embarrassed for the guy in my ward who tried to pull a "John Tucker" using almost every line straight from the movie. Originality, that one has.

Sometimes I get the urge to garden and the urge to knit in the same moment and realize how quickly I am becoming an 80-year-old woman.

Sometimes I want to pee my pants when my BFF Jill tells me she bought me a birthday sash and tiara to wear when Zac Efron falls in love with me.

Sometimes I learn that eating four more pieces of licorice is not an adequate substitute for brushing my teeth.

Sometimes I stay up till five in the morning and then want to shoot myself when I remember that my BFF Jill is going to make me go to zumba in three hours.

Sometimes I love when my weekend starts early. Okay, all the time I love that.

five days until the showdown.

my birthday is in five days, children.

f. i. v. e.

5

and this is the weather forecast:

oh baby!

an 80's party to bring down the house with the temperature in the 80's? serendipity.

and remember that poem that won me an award?

well, the boy who I wrote it about might be coming to my party. [i know, i just went 8th grade on you. but come on, it's my birthday!]

it will surely be the best monday in the world.

letter to my 21-year-old self.

My sweet, baby girl,

He hurt you. It's okay to admit that. Let yourself experience the pain. Don't be ashamed that you wanted it to work; desiring commitment and affection is never something that should be suppressed . Please, please admit to yourself that it hurt. The sooner you experience the emotion the better. Otherwise you'll hold onto it until it consumes you.
You are an out-going friendly woman, but holding onto this pain will cause you to drive people away. You'll stop trusting people; even worse, you'll stop trusting yourself. You're working so hard to hide the hurt that you're neglecting so many good things. Let it go. Cry and get angry. Do something, because feeling nothing can last forever and is even harder to recover from.

There will come a day when you are curled in the fetal position begging God to end your life. A week later you won't even remember why things were so bad that day. A week after that a boy will stand on your doorstep and tell you that he cannot find a girl who compares to you. Always hold out for good things. Keep hope. Believe that happiness is coming. Christ suffered alone, but He won't let you suffer alone. Always look toward the sun.
There is a saying that the grass is greener on the other side, but yours could be just as green if you took the time to water. Sometimes those good-things-on-the-horizon have to be worked for. Waiting won't get you anywhere.

Love,

Your biggest fan

"You're such a nice, giving, caring human being. It's not fair for you to have to experience things and be with someone that isn't fully there for you." - Like Crazy

out with the old.

I have changed, quite swiftly, and have found myself a very different person than the past would tell.

And so I felt that it was best to start over. To make this place about Kari instead of Lime Green Movie Girl.

Maybe you've followed me here or are tuning in for the first time, but either way it is nice to see you.

I hope that you are dreaming of a future that is better than your present.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote,

Turn the key and bolt the door,
Sweet is death forevermore...
All is now secure and fast;
Not the gods can shake the past.


This is me bolting the door on the past and allowing myself to re-create any future I'd like.