Why am I in Utah?

THIS is a long post.  It's an explanation, a vent, and a sappy thank you all wrapped up in one. I understand if you don't read it, because sometimes I see posts like this and I skip them myself (that doesn't mean I don't like the blogger, I just don't have the time/attention span for posts like this sometimes).

So this summer I was actually planning on living in Wyoming to save money and to spend a summer with my parents while one of my siblings was still there (Jaycey's getting ready to move out as I type this).  However, I wasn't too excited about Wyoming. Don't get me wrong: I was thrilled to spend a summer with my family.  I just don't like Wyoming for very long.  I think I would be fine for the first few weeks, but then...well it's Wyoming. I admire my family for sticking it out that long in a small town hours away from anywhere.

Then I started getting to know this guy who will still remain nameless on this blog.  I really liked/like him, and I was started to get more sad about moving to Wyoming than I was excited, because I do not date often, and when I do I try to be interested in the guys, but most of the time there just isn't the chemistry I'm looking for or they end up being idiots.  This nameless guy?  Not an idiot boy (as far as I could tell), and we clicked on a lot of different levels.  I was really sad to leave him.  It didn't help that when I told him I was going to Wyoming that he responded "Why didn't you tell me earlier? Were you afraid I wouldn't hang out with you anymore?" to which I responded in the lame way that only I can muster when I'm shy and embarrassed and awkward: "I dunno."

Then my mom said that she understood if I wanted to try to stay in Utah.  This was like a week before I had to move out of my apartments.  There was no way I was going to make those type of plans in a week.

But I did.  I moved in with my ex-stepmom-who-stayed-my-friend, and it's been wonderful living with her.  I do housework because I've still yet to find a job, and she thinks it's the most amazing thing to come home to a clean house, and not-so-restless dog, and entertaining company. So I don't feel too bad about not being able to give her part of my nonexistant paycheck, but I still wish I could get a stinking job so I didn't feel like a charity case.

When I told nameless boy that I was staying in Utah, he was happy.  So I was happy.  There's nothing like putting your heart out there, even just a little bit, and having it accepted.  That was a scary moment for me.  We were excited to spend more time together this summer (which would've been impossible from Wyoming).

So...since then...

Phone calls.  No visits.  No definite plans.  Phone calls.  I wonder what this...relationship...has turned into.  And the frequency of the phone calls has dropped.  Still talk to him often, just not as often.

So I wonder, why did I come here again?  I'm feeling like a charity case with a woman who divorced my father and so that makes me feel awkward because even though I know she adores me, that fact still lurks in the back of my head.  She owes me nothing. NOTHING.  And she's doing me this huge favor.  Tears forming in my eyes right now.

Yet she's so happy to be around me and makes a big deal about me cleaning her nearly spotless house.  Dishes and trash people.  That's mostly it. 

And her mom meets me and just loves the crap out of me, which is great because I love the crap out of her.  I have dinners at her house.  She comes over with Dave Ramsey.  Then she gives me clothes that are stinking cute and she's hardly worn them because they seem too young for her, but she is a stylish lady and she can totally pull anything off.  And then she gives me money to get things I need and some stuff I want...she says she wants to give it to me because I'm a delight and I'm helpful, and I feel guilty taking it because I don't do much, honest, not being humble.  I really don't deserve anything she gave me.

And my aunts and sister are being so nice to me, visiting and inviting me to dinner, taking me to the grocery store because of my stupid car and my stupid nonexistant salary, and driving me to and from friends' houses for parties.

And my friends have been driving me places forever and...they are just so amazing too.  I really can't even convey everything they give me, because they don't even know what they do for me.

So I have all of these amazing people in Utah who are just melting me to tears right now because I don't know how I found so many people to be thankful for, but I am so glad I found them.  I really do not like accepting anything from anyone, and I've been fighting with my pride lately a lot, and I've been attacking myself because I really wish I could be the one helping everyone else.  I'm just not at that point yet.

But I really just wanted to say thank you to everyone.  Because of you, I had an answer to my question: Why am I in Utah?

Because of the people I love and who love me back.  It was never completely about a boy to begin with.  He was a huge part of my decision to stay, because I didn't want to regret not taking a chance on him...but I'm in Utah because I have so many people here. 

Thanks for giving me up this summer, Mom.  I'm already being blessed in ways I couldn't imagine.  I've got the type of people in my life you were always telling me to get.  Thanks for moving me around so much--I got to meet a lot of people.  Thanks for raising me to become whatever I am right now, because apparently I'm good enough for the amazing people around me.  That's one of the best things you could've given me.

Another Shout

I would like to feature another of my favorite blogs. I didn't plan on featuring everyone I follow, but this lady really is SO genius, and she throws a creative university workshop (which is a fancy way of saying "scrapbook camp") that I REALLY want to go to someday. So I have to hurry up and jump on that before she decides not to do it anymore.

ANYWAY.  This is her site, and this is the latest video she's done (or at least the last one I've seen).  Not all of her posts include videos, but when she isn't showing you how to do things, she's showing you some inspiring projects she's done.  She also has Whatever Wednesdays that give some insight to who she is sometimes. It's a great blog!

What Photoshop and Indesign do for photography, SHE does for papercrafters everywhere.  She's such an inspiration and when I grow up, I want to be like her.

She's creative and silly, and she's one of the people who make my day :)  Thanks for everything you do!

My Grandma Blogs

So there's a little known fact I like to brag about occasionally: My mother was texting before me.  Not many of my friends can say that.  My mother also blogged before I did, and she does so more frequently than I do or ever will. (She also loves followers and comments...like they are her crack, so do a soon-to-be empty-nester a favor and brighten her day by following or commenting on her blog here.)

But I have another fact that I can brag about too!

My grandma blogs. 

In fact, here's a link to a post about me, and I'm gonna copy and paste that entire post here for you.  If you like it, visit her blog too.

But a note on the content first: the post I'm quoting is a story about me (brittany) when I was younger, my mother (connie) and my grandma (cecily).  Kim is my younger sister.  My absolute favorite blog at the moment (Chester the Bester) recently did a post about letters to yourself, and that the past versions of you can be full of wisdom that you didn't even know was there.  Younger versions of yourself can tell you exactly what you need to hear.  Check it out because it inspired me, and then read this story, because I think it's good to listen to the children (mind the child in this story is me, but i'm not trying to brag, *wink wink).

Connie asked Brittany several weeks before my birthday what she wanted to give me. "Doggy Bones."
Brittany was not yet four. Still, she certainly had her own view of the world. And it mattered not that I had no dog.
A month later, when Connie asked again. Brittany still remembered. "Doggy bones."

Connie asked if she was really sure that was what she wanted to give me. Yep. Doggy bones. No explanation of why. Just firm resolve.
Connie called me to tell me I was getting rawhide dog bones for my birthday. She said she had waited a month to go shopping for that birthday gift, and even so, Brittany had remembered and insisted. I laughed. And laughed. Cute. Such determination was just cute. The choice....I couldn't understand it. I still had no dog. Fortunately, I was done laughing before I came face to face with those dog bones, so I could give them and my granddaughters the respect they deserved for such a unique gift.
I was handed the wrapped gift by two very excited little girls. Brittany could hardly wait for me to open it. Kim was bouncing up and down repeating, "Goggy bones. Goggy bones. Goggy bones. Goggy bones." She could finally stop saying it after I had all the wrapping paper off.
The day after giving me the dog bones, Brittany was riding in the back seat of my car, when she launched into her own chosen topic of conversation, unprompted. When she and her sisters played house, the most fun thing to be was the dog. Being the doggy was the position of delight and honor. So she gave me dog bones so I could do the thing she thought was most fun---with props!
Then she said she had chosen the package with three dog bones so I could share "because when you share it becomes love."
Brittany gave me everything she had to give. Her excitement, her experience, her wisdom, and her love. To want to share with me so I can then share with others...what a cool gift. I still have those goggy bones. When ever I see them or think about them, my soul feel fuller. Sometimes I think about framing them so I see them more often.

So is it the thought that counts? A definite, emphatic "yes"! Something else counts, too.
The mom. See, the mom let her children give me dog bones when I had no dog.

She didn't insist that Brittany choose something that would make more sense to an adult.
Brittany did not share her reasons for dog bones with her mom. Yet Connie was respectful of her daughter's heart. She allowed. She didn't crush.
Connie might have deprived me of that experience. If she had viewed everything her children did as a reflection on her parenting, if she had been more concerned with what her mother-in-law would think of her, and less concerned about her daughter's gentle heart, there probably would be no rawhide dog bones in the cedar chest with the other things I treasure. And my soul would not feel so full.

I am very grateful for all mothers who do not keep their children root bound in a tiny pot on the window sill, but allow and encourage them to flourish and grow in the garden of life.
I really love and respect you, Connie. A lot.

I'm trying to blog from my phone for the first time ever. I know exciting, right? But not as exciting as this: i was just called to set up an interview! Go job!