The Downer of Being in Love

I hate it every night when Andrew leaves.

Hate it Hate it Hate it Hate it Hate Hate it.

Maybe that sounds childish. But really. I hate it. And when he leaves, I pout. I don't mean to. It just happens. And then I keep pouting until he is out the door. And then for a few more minutes until he sends me a text message. It is a sad experience we replay every night starting at 11:45 or 11:50 and ending at about 12:15 or 12:25. It's a cycle that will never end- except for when he's in Europe and I'm in Missouri- until 88 days from now and then it will never happen again. At least not in the exact same way.

A Little Love and a Little Quote

  

"That was the thing. You just never knew. Forever was so many different things. It was always changing, it was what everything was really about. It was twenty minutes, or a hundred years, or just this instant, or any instant I wished would last and last. But there was one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening. Right then.. and every moment afterwards. Look, there. Now. Now. Now. 

-The Truth About Forever

Cause you only live once.

Why Flamingos are Pink

Andrew has set the record straight.

I cannot write a story about a blue flamingo because, apparently, flamingos are only pink because they eat shrimp. Who knew? Andrew knew.

Andrew knows a lot of things. For example, the first time he came over, he came over with his roommates and fell asleep on the floor. Apparently I did not make a good first impression (although, really, we had met six months before. He didn't talk then, either). That is not my point. My point is that the first thing I ever remember Andrew Lynn Chandler saying to me besides "uh-huh" or "cool" was "Ostriches don't stick their head in the ground." Such a statement changed my life. How was I supposed to know they only act like they stick their head in the ground. I am not an ostrich scientist. Or a flamingo scientists. 

When I started to write this post, I was going to apologize that I wrote a story about a blue flamingo. But I am not sorry. If I want to make a story about a blue or yellow or green flamingo, I will. I do not care if it is not possible. I defend my flamingo story. Even if it was written in 20 minutes, under developed, and just for pure entertainment. If I want Flamboya to be blue, she will be blue. And no, I will not run Sunshine out for lying. Flamboya forgave her. So can I.

Also, here is Andrew's list of ugly baby animals:

1. Flamingoes

2. Snakes

Just don't tell him baby dragons aren't cute. Because, apparently, baby dragons are adorable. As are baby skunks. As are baby octopuses.

Oh, and if he had a baby skunk, he would name it Wilbur. 

The Blue Flamingo

Right now, I have a choice.

I could rewrite my paper about the painting The Birth of Venus for my history class or I could write a little something-something. And I choose: A little somethin-something. 

This is a writing exercise where I pull a story out of nowhere, so don't just me if it's lame:

Once upon a time, there was a Flamingo named Flamboya. Flamboya the Flamingo was not like other flamingos. 

She was blue.

All the other flamingos were pink. Her mother, her father, her brothers, her sisters, her friends, even her flamingo toy. They were not all the same shade, but they were all the same color: PINK. When she was a little flamingo, before she could stand up on one leg, her mother would tell her how special she was.

Her mother had never known a blue flaming before, either, but she told Flamboya that she should be proud of being different. She should be proud of being blue. She reminded her how everyone wanted to see her when she was born. No one, not anyone, had ever seen a blue flamingo. Everyone wanted to see her. She was beautiful, her mother told her.

This made Flamboya like her blue feathers. She liked that they set her apart from all the pink in the world. She liked to be the color of the sky.  She was shy, but she liked that she could be seen. She was not ashamed of being blue. Then one day, Flamboya met a new flamingo. 

"My name is Sunshine," the new flamingo told her.

"My name is Flamboya," Flamboya said shyly.

Sunshine laughed. "Your name is funny. Girls shouldn't have 'boy' in their name."

Flamboya did not know what to say.

Sunshine continued, "Why are you blue?"

Flamboya did not know what to say. She did not know why she was blue.

Sunshine kept laughing until she strutted away. 

Flamboya went home and asked her mother why she was blue. Her mother said she did not know why Flamboya was blue, either, but that she loved her even more because she was blue. She thought Flamboya was the most beautiful flamingo in the world. Flamboya felt better.

She did not feel better the next day.

When she left her house in the morning to play with her friends, Flamboya saw Sunshine standing in the middle of them.

"Flamingos are not supposed to be blue," Sunshine taunted her. "Flamingos are not supposed to be orange or yellow or green or purple. Flamingos are supposed to be pink." 

Flamboya said, "I am a flamingo and I am blue. Blue is a pretty color, too."

Sunshine ignored her.

"I have never seen a blue flamingo," Sunshine continued, "Maybe you are not a flamingo. Maybe your dad was a bluebird."

Flamboya did not know what to do. She looked at her friends for help. They did not say anything. Instead, they looked at the ground or looked at the sky. Flamboya walked away. She did not know what else to do.

Sunshine did not stop there. For two weeks she made fun of Flamboya every chance she got. One day, she told her she should leave Flamingoville. Flamingoville was for flamingos, she told Flamboya. They were not for blue birds.

Every night, Flamboya talked to her family about Sunshine. Her mother told her to be nice to Sunshine. Maybe Sunshine was just sad. "Sunshine is not sad," Flamboya told her mother, "Flamboya is mean." Flamboya's brothers and sisters agreed. Flamboya was mean to them, too. 

The next morning, Flamboya went on a walk all by herself. She did not want the other flamingos to see her. For the first time in her life, she was ashamed she was blue. 

As she walked, Flamboya came across the field of magic pink flowers. She stopped to look at the flowers dancing in the wind- and then she saw something. Flamboya saw something she had never seen before. She had to rub her eyes to make sure she was not imagining. 

When she opened her eyes, she saw it again - A YELLOW flamingo. The flamingo was picking flowers in the middle of the field. She was all alone. Flamboya had to talk to her. She had found a flamingo who did not have pink feathers- she knew they would be best friends.

Flamboya ran to the yellow flamingo. When she got there, she stopped. She knew this yellow flamingo. She had come to town a few weeks before. The flamingo was Sunshine.

Sunshine looked up from her flowers. She saw Flamboya and dropped them.

"You're-- you're yellow!!" Flamboya exclaimed. She tried not to point at her. Her mother had told her that was rude.

Sunshine hung her head. "I know."

"But you're always pink. How are you yellow?" Flamingo did not know what to think 

Sunshine hung her head farther. "When I lived in Flamingo Hill, everyone made fun of me. They called me canary. They said I was not a flamingo because I was yellow. Then we moved to Flamingville and I found these flowers that turn my feathers pink."

"Why would you do that? Why would you not be yellow?" Flamboya was amazed.

"I did not want to be made fun of. And then, when I met you, I was afraid. I thought that if we were friends, the other flamingos would make fun of me, too. So I said you must be a bluebird."

"I am not a bluebird," Flamboya said. "And you are not a canary. We are flamingos."

Sunshine did not say anything. She looked so sad. Flamboya felt bad for her.

"I have an idea," Flamboya suggested, "How about you stop eating the flowers? You do not need to be pink. Just be yellow. Yellow is pretty. Like the sun."

"What if we get made fun of?"

Flamboya thought for a moment. "If we get made fun of, I promise to be your best friend forever and ever."

"Really? Even though I made fun of you?"

"YES!" Flamboya exclaimed.

Sunshine smiled.

Flamboya and her new friend made the short walk back to Flamingoville. When they arrived, everyone looked at them. They had never seen a yellow flamingo before. They came and talked to Sunshine and Flamboya. When Sunshine explained that she was really yellow, everyone laughed.

But they did not laugh to make fun of her. They laughed because they were having fun. Flamboy and Sunshine went to the playground with their new friends singing, "Flamingos are not just pink. Flamingos are yellow and blue and red and green and orange! Flamingos are not just pink."

And they lived happily - and colorfully- ever after.

The End.

So Nice. So Weird.

It is so nice having the person I know I am going to spend the rest of forever with. It is so weird having the person I know I am going to spend the rest of forever with.

No really. Think about it.

All growing up, regardless of race or religion or gender, we think about getting married. It's innate. We all want companionship of some level. Or at least hope for it. I've always been a dreamer, but I was never one to dream about love. Sure, I had my moments where love got me down. But it wasn't the forefront problem in mind. Especially starting last August, I basically only thought about writing and photography and plans for the rest of my life such as humanitarian work and publishing. Then I met Andrew and everything turned upside down.

It's fun though. I like it. I love it. It's nice to sit on the couch and cuddle for hours, though I'm sure my roommates hate it. Sometimes we are a total PDA fest and I would apologize, but my ring sparkles all on it's own. And it's amazing to know that no matter what, there will always be someone there to rely on. Someone more than a friend and someone who chose to be part of your family. Does that sound sappy? I don't care. I used to not care too much for real, nitty gritty love (just ask all my ex's), and now I'm ridiculously in it. For-e-ver.

Oh, and in case you were curious, we're getting married 5 months and 1 day after our first date. YIKES! I love it.

ENGAGED.

So today after school, Andrew and I went to a park and read books. Then we went to the mall to pick up Chick-fil-a and then we went to a pavilion and ate. Next thing I know, Andrew starts complaining that his stomach is sick: He needs to sit down or go on a walk or something. But he does not want to go back to the apartment. He wants to stay outside. So I suggest a few places, and in the interest of time told him we should go on a walk because, initially, that's what he wanted to do. And it was closer to our apartments.

So we go to the park behind the temple. Not Rock Canyon. The one with the gate. But Andrew said it was too crowded, so we left and went to Rock Canyon. And as we're walking along the grass, he keeps asking me how I want him to propose to me. I told him I did not care as long as it wasn't in the apartment or in the car. So he keeps asking, dropping lines like "Do you want me to propose to you in Salt Lake?" or "My teaching companion said I should do this..." and then we go in this little pathway between some dead trees and he just stops walking. 

So I turn around to look at him. He looked funny. And then he asks, "What about right here?" And me, believing him ten minutes before when he said he did not have my ring yet, said, "You don't have the ring yet." And before I knew it, BAM. He's pulled out a little brown box out of his backpack (that he insisted he bring along with him for our walk), drops down to one knee, and opens the box, all in one swift movement. Then I started jumping up and down and forgot to say "Yes" when he popped the question. And I laughed and could not stop jumping.

This is what was in the brown box:

Later, he told me of all his elaborate plans this week that just kept falling through. So, in the spur of the moment, he decided just to do it there. In the midst of dead trees.

We also spent a good time tonight singing Hellogoodbye Lyrics such as:

"You should know, it's true

The part about my love for you and how

My heart's about to burst into a million pieces"

And that's the story I will tell for the rest of my life when someone asks  how my husband proposed to me.

Distracted

In case you're curious, I'm still distracted. And I'm missing Women's History. Again. Because I am distracted (also because I just woke up). Moreover, I'm going to turn in an English paper late. I've never turned a paper in late. Ever. Not in elementary school (do they have papers in elementary school?). Not in junior high (when I got accused of plagiarism by Mrs. Davis). Not in high school (when I sometimes had to sit in the hallway for talking or laughing too much. Like this one time my friend and I gave a presentation and we laughed so hard our teacher kicked us out. During our presentation). AND Not in college. Definitely not in college, because in college, I get bugged if I have anything lower than an "A". This semester, I'll be lucky to get something besides a "C". Actually, I might just be lucky to get a "C". We will see. I used to be the most focused woman in the world. Now I walk around all the time thinking "La La La... Love Love Love... La La La". And I love it. Because, even if I failed out this semester (which would never, ever happen), I would look back and think "La La La... Love Love Love... La La La" and grin. Because life is that silver lined right now.

So if you think it can't happen to you, you are wrong. Cause I thought it never would for me. Ever. 

(I was wrong)

Facebook

Andrew deactivated his facebook today. So my relationship status is lonely. Before, it always said "In a relationship with Andrew Chander". Now it says "In a relationship." So to all those wonderers out there: I am not in a make believe relationship. My boyfriend just thinks he is too cool for facebook. I think it's the new facebook layout that sent him running...

Here Comes the Sun.

"Here comes the sun and I say: It's alright. Little darlin, it's been a long, cold lonely winter. Little darlin, it feels like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say: It's alright. Little darlin, the smile's returning to their faces. Little darlin, it seems like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun and I say: It's alright."

Obviously, I did not look too cute today. Oh well. The sun is OUT and it is oh so beautiful. I love it. 

I am not into school or work. This morning when I was prying myself out of bed, Andrew sent me a text telling me that school was our focus right now. I do not want to focus on school. I want to focus on my plans and my man. But then again, I'm so distracted my fingernails are completely chipped, my eyebrows are awry, and I do not want to go tanning. It's funny for me to look back at pictures and see how put together I used to be. Sure, I've always had my own style and sass. But I used to be meticulous about my appearance. Now I just go. This makes me feel guilty because I could be so much hotter. But then again, I don't really care. Because right now, I am so much happier than I ever was at my hottest.

Today I had a long text conversation with a friend I have not seen in a year and a half or so. While texting, she asked me about a boy I used to be extremely close to. This shouldn't have been a surprise since the last time I talked to her I was in the thick of my relationship with said boy. But it still surprised me because I never think about it anymore. I had to put myself back in that situation and think of what was going on the last time we spoke. She was very surprised that our relationship ended and that we no longer spoke. I didn't give her details, just said we parted ways a long time ago. Right after I told her, she asked if I was serious with my boyfriend she saw on facebook. It was funny- like she knew that since I wasn't in my previous relationship, I must be close to getting married to someone else. The point is, it made me think. And all I really have to say is this: I don't know why that relationship happened, nor do I care anymore. Or think about it. I'm so glad I'm with someone who is nice and considerate (even if he is a little punk and a little younger than me which the latter I never, ever thought would happen, even if by four months). I was so unhappy in that relationship, but I stuck with it because I knew it was the right thing to do (Which it was. and it was also right that it didn't work out. Which is twisted and weird but whatev). If it had worked out, I always would have been unhappy. Now I get to be happy all the time and I am so, so glad.

The END.

Lazy Lazy.

Sometimes I am really lazy. Like today. I slept in until 10. And it felt so wonderful. Then my new plates (so cute) and new shower curtain (so adorable) came in and I talked to Lexi about unmentionable things that are a little nerve wracking. Then I talked to my Mama about plans and reservations for 30 minutes where I found out my little bro is so sick he's on like 4 kinds of medicine. Noah is just so cute, even when he is so sick. He's just a nice little boy. I love him. Then I reserved a study room, which I want to try and see if they're a good idea. Andrew and I make a group, because a group makes 2. I can't study at home, but I feel suffocated studying in the library when I'm with another person. I like to be able to talk if I want to talk. Thus the group study room is fabulous. I'm gonna get so much done! I'm late to work right now because I need to be there in 13 minutes and I have not showered. Gross, I know.

I just feel so... happy and excited and distracted that I do not want to focus, especially when I know I can push things back. I also sometimes need some alone time, which I am invoking right now. I was in a really bad mood last night, so I'm glad I got the extra sleep and conversations in. BUT I really, really don't like to be told what to do. I never have. Maybe I should work on that. My mama always described it as "you were always going to do the right thing, you were just going to do it how you wanted to." So true. Families are great, and I am so excited that in a determined amount of time, I will have a second one. Really I will have three, and one main one. A new one. And that is so exciting and it was so random and unexpected. No wonder I have trouble focusing.

On another note, I need to be so much better about taking pictures and writing. Those are my favorite things. I got the cutest blue journal which helps with writing, but I still have to remember. Sometimes I can't think about anything besides the person in the picture above, as wonderfully cheesy as that sounds. This picture was last Thursday right after (or maybe right before) Andrew and I made a very important phone call about a very important date (June 25th). Life is just so exciting. And I am so content and happy and I like that I finally found someone who fits without making him fit. I dated around for a long long time (almost 7 years) before I found one I wanted for keeps. But this one stuck. And I love it. And I love him.

I probably shouldn't write that on my blog because my ring finger is still bare. Oh well. Too late.

2 is better than 1

.LoveLoveLoveLove.

This used to be my theme song:

The train is almost here. This decision seems so clear. I can feel the habit cutting like a knife. In the end, I know that it is gonna drive right into me. Cause I'm a drifter and I know that doesn't do me any good. Moving on from place to place, never staying where I should. I left him just to leave. No, I left him cause he needed me. I can feel him looking at me like I stole his '67 chevrolet and drove it away. Cause I'm a gypsy and I know it doesn't do me any good. Moving on from place to place, never staying where I should. I walked into another strange place, didn't see a single face that I recognized or wanted. Guess it's on to the next chase. Cause I'm a drifter and I know that doesn't do me any good, moving on from place to place never staying where I should. Yeah I'm a gypsy and I know that doesn't do me any good, moving on from place to place, stealing hearts just cause I could... (by Rosi Golan)

Now this one is:

If you were falling, then I would catch you. You need a light? I'd find a match. Cause I love the way you say "Good Morning" and you take me the way I am. If you are chilly, here take my sweater. You're head is aching? I'll make it better. Cause I love the way you call me "Baby" and you take me the way I am. I'd buy you Rogaine when you start losing all your hair. Sew on patches to all you tear cause I love you more than I could ever promise and you take me the way I am. You take me the way I am... (by Ingrid M.) 

Edchacation

I need to be better about writing and photographing. They are my favorite things. Along with loving. And dresses. And church.

So today my women's history class talked about women's education. Apparently, my teacher and her colleagues often have female students come and tell them that they are afraid to succeed. They do not want to look too ambitious or overzealous. They do not want to seem too career-oriented. In other words, they do not want to scare off the men.

I do not understand this concept. I'm all about my double major, even though I don't know what I want to do as a day job while I try to establish myself as an author (which is, I know, a long shot. My mother reminds me as often as the "what are you going to do with your life?" question arises). I don't know if I will ever be published, but I know I am going to try. I want to do what I love doing. I don't understand why that is a problem for some girls. I don't know what every girl in the world should want to be, because every girl in the world is different. However, I believe every person should try to be their best. So why not through education? I'd rather be at school than be in a 9-5 I detest. I'd rather be in school than anything else though, which is ironic because I did not want to go to college for a long, long time. I just wanted to be free, away from any kind of structure. I don't feel that way towards school anymore. I love to learn. That being said, I often feel like school gets in the way of my education.

Just a Sunday Afternoon

 

 

Today I went to church and I wore my cute new green dress. Apparently, it was see through. In my apartment, no one reminded me. Instead, they told me how adorable it was. I agreed. I did not realize it was as transparent as green saran wrap. So I went to church, cardigan stuffed in my bag, and sat down in Relief Society-- where I realized I could see my legs through my skirt. Suffice to say, all day church long I tried to cover myself up. It's a pity though. That dress is just so cute and flowy.

After church, we went on a scooter ride. We stopped up by some houses and I busted out my Nikon. It was fabulous. I never thought I would meet someone who would be content to hang out with me while I get my photography on. More than that, I did not think I would like it if I did. I was right, because I don't like it. I love it. I like that I have found a boy who actually likes things I like, who does what he wants, and likes it that I do what I want as well. It's the exact opposite of feeling suffocated. It makes feel liberated. It makes me feel free.

And I am so tired. And happy. And I need to start my homework. Badly.

Weekends are just too short. 

Trouble.

I have done something bad.

I have found this website.

It has everything cute a woman could ask for. So, after Andrew left tonight I did what any woman would do: I bought a journal. It is ridiculously great. It was once a cook book, published in the 1950s. Not anymore. Some cute woman in California tore out the pages and then lovingly stitched in new, blank pages. But not just blank pages. There are three sections: one in cream, one in pink, and one in graph paper. It was 25 dollars. Good style is not cheap. But it was worth it. Why? Because as I type this, 450 blank pages of life are heading my way. I've been so bad at keeping a journal since last summer. Maybe this will help me out.