Week Links

Things I listened to this week: 

All week, to have the time go by, I listen to things while I work. I usually email links to people when I find something enjoyable. Although they won't admit it my family gets really sick of me emailing links. So, I am going to post them instead. Now if anyone wants them, they can come and get them.


Sometimes, although not that often, the radio doesn't disappoint. Today on my way to work they played this song. Really helped start the day off right!

I loved No Doubt's Tragic Kingdom, when I was younger. I was constantly walking into Spiderwebs. And I will admit I am digging their new single; it has such a fun the feel.

Radiolab- Inside Ouch (not my favorite radiolab, but radiolab itself is one of my favorites).

Radiolab- Guts The story this dude tells is incredible. I retold to the him (the him that I am married to) while we eating dinner, he didn't love the timing of my retelling. I however, thought it was perfectly timed.

I really enjoy Gospel Solutions for Families on the Mormon Channel! I have listened to almost all of these and always look forward to the new one. This week it was Strengthening your Marriage. I love that this is just a discussion being recorded. I love discussing things (I think I have mentioned that before), so I also like listening to discussions.

I try to listen to a few old General Conference talks each day while I am working. If what I am doing takes a lot of focus I won't get much out of the talks. But, it helps time go by fast and it is nice to have on in the background. I am surprised at how often I do get something out of it; not surprised to learn something from a great talk. Surprised that even having that on in the background can be really uplifting and educational.

Here are a few I listened to:
I really love Elder Neal A. Maxwell talks, or books, or anytime he said anything. This one was no exception to that. It was a nice find because we were talking about Desire and goals in our little Family Home Evening this month.

When thinking about Desire this month I also had to listen to this one

I found this talk incredibly touching

Oh Elder Oaks, what a wonderfully logical man. This is a great talk on Joesph Smith

An Ode to my Shirt

Reader Beware: this post is totally pointless- like really, extra pointless. It is all about the shirt I am wearing right now. Yeah, what can I say? I am having an intellectually slow week.

This is the shirt I am wearing today. I love this shirt because it is simple but classy. No matter what I look like (you can see the state of me, I didn't want to get ready today. But, I had to because: 1. I leave the house and work and 2. I have a goal to wear outfits and not just clothes) So i throw my hair up, put on yellow jeans, add this shirt and voila I look outfit-y. Sure it is not the most glamorous I have ever looked but this shirt is like the my work equivalent to a white t-shirt. It is easy it, but it just always looks good (like a white t-shirt) But because of the texture and other little fun details (note the seam about the chest and the thick hem at the sleeve)  it is looks pretty professional (i.e. work appropriate). Oh how I love this shirt. 

Deciding what to wear to my job can be tricky; we are asked to dress business casual but jeans are allowed. So, most of the men wear collared shirts and jeans, easy enough. But then you get to the women and the standard gets a lot more difficult to define. Because jeans are allowed and lots of women don't wear polo shirts or collared shirts (look horribly masculine in a polo)... it kinda seems like anything goes (and by anything I mean you will see people in things like junk jeans and Nickelback t-shirts, which really bums me out and is not business anything). I like to look nice. I like to wear dresses and skirts, even when I don't have to. I like the way I feel when I look nice. However, we all have bad days, and when one hits it is hard to take the time to look really put together when you know no one cares if you don't. But this shirt saves me. Keeps me true to me and never lets me slide into total yuckiness, no matter how lazy I feel. Because, I think that my boss probably does prefer I look presentable and I know my husband appreciates when I look nice.

I have other shirts that will also help me out when I am in a bind , but this one is the best. It may not look like much to you, but to me it is an absolute dream. I am constantly looking for more shirts that have this same simple but lovely feel. What a little gem.

Mysteries, Real People, and Deadbolts

I love to watch mysteries, and by that I mean really good, really fun, usually British Mysteries. If you don't have BBC and don't watch Masterpiece Mystery you can find some on Netflix or Amazon Prime. Some are suspenseful, some are gritty, some are totally silly, but i always want to watch them. I am, after all, my mamma's girl. My mom watches loads of mysteries too, they are her favorite. Mom owns every Nancy Drew book and that is what we read when we were young. Before trips my mom would take us to buy paperback mysteries at DI so that we could read them and leave them along the way (so you wouldn't have to pack all those books back with you. If you only spent 50 cents on a book you don't mind leaving it behind and you need extra suitcase room on the way back to fit clothes and other things bought on your trip). Agatha Christie was one of our favorites to read and watch, still is.

I took plenty of psychology classes in school; psychology, sociology, marriage and family studies, child development, this is how I spent my college years- with a few Lit classes thrown in for fun. Discussing people, their motives, and their relationships to one another is my second favorite thing to discuss (my first is studying and discussing gospel principles; discovering new insights and learning new things is absolutely incredible. I especially love it when my first and second favorite can be done simultaneously, which is very often the case). I spend way too much time thinking about people, dynamics, and life; I sometimes do so much thinking and discussing I forget to do my best living. You see there are pitfalls to my interest in solving mysteries; my desire to really get to the bottom of understanding people. The first one is I very often forget to live in the moment. I can forget to focus on myself and  and think about how I can be better now, this is probably one of my biggest character flaws. I imagine we will get more into this particular struggle later, how could we not? 

The second pitfall comes of watching too many mysteries, being too enthralled with my studies, and reading too many things. I am just downright jumpy. I am constantly startled when my husband walks unexpectedly into a room, like a kid being caught stealing a cookie. I have been known to peak out of the peep hole before I walk out of my apartment to make sure no one is lurking, and did I mention I live in Salt Lake? I am endlessly suspicious of uninvited guests. Even the mailman, with package in hand, knocking on the door makes me uneasy. I almost never answer the door when I am home alone. Honestly, statistically and fictionally so many bad things start with a stranger at your door. At my last place the bishopric stopped by once. They knocked on the door, I of course, did not answer. I tiptoed up the stairs trying to peer through the window and see who was there. I couldn't see, so I still did not open the door. I sneaked back downstairs in total fear while they left a flier on the door for an upcoming church activity.

I sit home alone right now, an old Agatha Christie streaming from Netflix as I work on my laptop, the deadbolt locked at 2 in the afternoon, and feeling a little bit uneasy about a noise I just heard outside. Yep, it is possible to watch too many British Mysteries and read too many psychology statistics.

Maybe it has nothing to do with textbooks and TV. Maybe I am just naturally jumpy, I wonder if we will ever know... Anyway, I must go. The mystery I am watching is getting to the good part.

Orange Skirt Green Shirt

Today I am dressed like fall. Orange skirt. green shirt. A friend of mine said once that hunter green was super out. Made me laugh. Isn't is funny how we all have our own standards of what is and is not acceptable? I love that. I love that a dear friend of mine can think this green is gross and I can think it is awesome and both thoughts are totally fine. Oh opinions!

I really love the fall, it is my favorite season.
I love the colors
I love the smells
I love the crunch of leaves under walking feet.
I love drinking hot chocolate and apple cider
I love being bundle up in warm clothes.
I love that first bite in the air when things start to get cold.
I love fall clothes, I feel like it is my perfect style; loads of layer and boots.
I love boots.
I love that in the fall I get to dress for the cold, I am always cold
I love being able to cuddle clothes without feel overheated and sweaty.
I love General Conference and General R.S Meeting
I just love everything about the fall

except that it means winter is coming.

I don't love the winter.
I don't love the snow
I don't love cleaning snow off my car, off the walkways, or off of clothes as you walk inside
I don't love driving in bad weather
I don't love spending most of the time looking ragged, wet, and totally gross (oh memories from Rexburg, ID)
I don't love flat yucky hair from hats or snow or wind.
I don't love static-y hair from coats and hats
I don't love, in fact I abhor being wet and cold, big reason why I am not fond of the snow.
I don't care for winter sports so I don't have that to get me excited.

The only thing I like about winter is holidays, hot drinks, and soup. I am probably being melodramatic, I am sure there is more to like about the winter. In fact maybe that will be my goal this year. I will look for likable things about the winter.

But, it isn't hard to like the fall, the fall is the best. Did I mention I love the fall? I really really do.

(another really poor quality picture, but you get the idea. I used to say I didn't care about the camera on my cell phone, I may have misspoke. See that belt? That was my grandpa's army uniform belt. I haven't found occasion to wear it in a while but I find it really charming. I love to wear things or have things that have had another life before me, especially if that other life was with someone I love. That army belt next to my green makes that look more like and army green color, huh?) 

Forgetting and Funerals: A Monday Madness of Sorts

We had a funeral this weekend for his grandma. It was a really sweet meeting where people expressed memories and admiration. Grandma O was an incredible women; a real force. She was passionate about many things and fought hard for those things. She wrote books and served on committees for most of her later life.  I didn't know her well, being new to the family. However, I can easily see the results of her influence spread throughout her whole family for generations. All day I could feel the deep love and respect everyone in attendance felt for her and each other. There was a great feeling of reverence for her, for life, and for the Plan of Salvation. Knowing that families are eternal and that we will live together again is a very real comfort at times of loss. I am so grateful for that knowledge, and for a husband that is full of faith. I am so grateful that we can draw closer together through our shared beliefs and devotion. 

I got teary more than once on Saturday. I felt kinda silly, I had only met her twice. But, she still means something to me. His family is now my family, we are all sealed together. Her legacy touches my life, my husband, and our family. But, I still tried to choke back the tears I felt. I wanted it to be about him and his family. I didn't want him distracted by my tears. Yet, they still came on and off. When I saw him teary, tears filled my eyes. When I felt the strong spirit in the room, tears filled my eyes. It was inevitable. As a friend of mine said, "there's something about seeing people love so much." It is so very true, you can't see others love and not be affected by that love. Also, I am just a huge sympathetic crier. Always cry when others cry. I am also a sympathetic thrower-uper, but that doesn't have anything to do with this weekend. 

We were running late to the viewing that Saturday. We felt guilty for being late; we wanted to be there to support his mom and to show love for his grandmother. A funeral is not the kind of occasion to just get out of bed and throw something on. I wanted to look nice; to look respectable. So, even though we didn't have much time I still got in the shower and got ready, how could I not. Even after washing and drying my hair it would not cooperate. I was hurried and disheveled and frustrated as I got my into clothes. I really need a haircut, my hair is a mess right now. As we ran out the door he kept reassuring me that I looked nice. I was in my favorite navy blue dress, with a brooch from my great-grandmother pinned to the waist, and some new heels. Once I got over my disappointment with my hair I felt pretty confident. We ended up making good time weren't very late in the end. We gave lots of hugs and sat in the viewing room with the rest of the family to greet guests. There was lots of chatting with family and more hugging when new people arrived. I was sitting in a chair, listening to one of his aunts, when I noticed something odd. I carefully investigated my concerns only to discover that I was in fact bra-less. In our hurry to get out the door, and my attention obsessively focused on my bad hair, I had forgotten my bra. I was wearing so many layers that I hadn't even noticed. I was stunned and confused and kept thinking about how many hardy hugs I had given in the last hour. After lots of laughter and some quick problem solving we hopped in car and hurried to my near-by sister's house. They were out of town so we let ourselves in, found a bra, and were back in plenty of time for the funeral. Phew. 

 It is so me to make such a silly blunder, especially at a funeral. Typical me. But, even more typical me was to be aching all day to tell everyone we came in contact with; it is just such a good story. I told his aunt, his sister, my family (over the phone), and then later that night the rest of his immediate family. How could I not? Also how could I avoiding telling all of you? A bra is real necessity for any funeral appropriate outfit. Even the best dress cannot compensate for the lack of the appropriate under garments. In my experiences, funerals are about being classy and giving endlessly hugging family and friends, and you cannot confidently do  either without a bra.

Neon, Animal Print, and Other Fads I Sometimes Like But Never Want to Eat

As promised, adventures in trying on a leopard print skirt. It really wasn’t an adventure, don’t get your hopes up. In fact, I will be straight with you, it isn’t even a very interesting story.

But, duh duh duh... Here it is.

I didn’t take a picture of myself trying this one on. I had a witness with me ready and willing to critique the fit on the spot, so I didn’t need a picture. However, I can assure you that my bottom looked much better this time. And yet, things didn’t go as planned.

We went into Forever 21 after dinner, at Thaiphoon, for our last date night. The food was pretty good (the food at Thaiphoon, I don’t believe they have food at Forever 21 and I if they did I imagine it wouldn’t be very appetizing. They are currently favoring all things neon. Neon clothing can be hard enough to stomach. Neon food would be really hard to take) and the experience was ordinary. I had been to this particular restaurant before and enjoyed it; I had the scallops. It has been a while since my original visit, over a year, and things have changed. First, no more scallops. Second, the ambiance was a little more about volume and a little less about food. It felt a little like a Vegas buffet (minus the actual buffet) mixed with a Chili's. The space is huge and seemed designed for guests to just eat and leave; like slow motion fast food. This may not be a bad thing for some, and I will admit it isn’t always a bad thing for me. Some place that will move you in and out is ideal for lunch when you are trying to hurry back to work. But, for our Friday night date I usually want more. Date night is about more than just about getting food into my hungry tummy. When on a date we eat, or try to eat, as part of an experience. Don’t you? But, that certainly didn’t happen this time. The food is good enough if you just want to eat something and then be on your way; we didn’t.

Anyway, I digress. I dread going into Forever 21. It is loud, bright, packed, and smells of adolescents and cheap clothes. I don’t love it. But, if you take a deep breath and give it a shot you might find some good, cheap, faddy things to wear. Yes, you may be thinking something about how you hate fads and never get caught up in them. Sure, sure, we are all incredibly original and never do anything that anyone else is doing. That being said, sometimes I kinda dig a fad. Fad is not a bad word, it is fine to be momentarily into something. It is fine to copy something that you thought looked cool on someone else. You shouldn’t, in my opinion, be entirely made up of fabs. You should, in my opinion, have elements of your own style always; mix and match things in a way that makes you feel like you. Plus, I also think you should only spend good money on things that are classic, timeless, and wonderful. Therefore, you should only spend an insignificant amount of money to participating in  a fad/fads. Words to fad by, according to me.

Enter Forever 21. Sure their stuff is pretty cheaply made but that is ok because it is actually cheap. How long does some trendy little number really need to last? Not long. When we went in, we both felt overwhelmed by the bright colored mannequins and all of the Forever21-ness, he more than me. I found said leopard print skirt. Oh, you forget about the skirt, huh? Too many tangents you say? I grabbed a few other choice items and head to the dressing room. He remained outside looking around with a mix of confusion and a touch of terror. I walked out in the skirt.

Yes, I’m really making a story about trying on a leopard print skirt this extensive, with this much unnecessary detail. That's just how I roll. I looked for him and our eyes meet across the confusion; mine full of hope and desperation, his full of fear. He silently shook his head at me. I said something like but... His look shifted to concern as he shook his head again. I said “maybe in a tacky/cool way?” He shook his head again. He moved closer to me and kinda quietly explained that the fabric texture was quite off putting. The skirt was fuzz, its texture giving the illusion that I was actually wearing a cat.

I closed the door to the dressing room and changed back into my real clothes. I felt surprisingly discouraged, still wishing I could find the perfect almost wild item. As we walked, he explained that this hadn’t been just some difference in taste or style. He said that skirt was just way too tacky and not in a good quirky way, in a cheap way.

There it is, the catch with Forever 21. That store has some good finds that are unfortunately mixed with some, well, other finds. In my zeal I had stumbled on the latter. When you have someone you  trust, someone that has a similar style to you, and always encourages you to be yourself. When that someone says absolutely no to something you put on in a dressing room, you trust them, put the skirt down, and immediately leave the store. Too much desperation to find the right thing can cause one (me being the one in this case) to lose all sanity and sense of typical style. Phew, close call. Glad he was there and that he was not hypnotized by the bright colors and loud music; glad he managed to still speak reason to my desperate, wannabe wild heart. Because, truth be told, I am just not a fuzzy leopard print kind of a girl.

But perhaps a non fuzzy animal print...

A Tiny Balcony, Big Ideas, Adorable Tools, and Loads of Potential

We got a grill from my sister. It is an old grill that they haven't used in years. A grill full of wasps nests and spider babies. It took some time to get it clean-ish and to getting working-ish.

But we were so excited to have a grill we could hardly wait. We had some grilled zucchini (I could happily eat nothing but zucchini all summer). He had a hamburger, I had a veggie-burger (because hamburger is gross). We ate some chips and had some pink lemonade. It felt like summer, albeit a bit late, but still summer. 

 We are living in a tiny, temporary (meaning rental) type place. So a tiny, temporary grill seemed appropriate. We were a bit tempted to buy a big, wonderful, full of potential grill so we would never have to turn an oven on in an already hot apartment. Instead we did this. Hopeful that sometimes we wouldn't have to turn an oven on in an already hot apartment. Then it took us a few months to remember to pick it up. But, we will still have a few nights with no hot oven in a hot apartment; worth it. 

It doesn't do a stellar grilling job, but what it lacks in grilling it makes up for in good looks. Pretty cute right? I feel like if something is cute people will only casually curse it for its slow, uneven grilling, at least I would. Note the adorable three dollar DI chair next to our adorable twenty dollar grill. Do you see a theme. We are suckers for things that are charming and cheap. Well, I am a sucker for charming and cheap he is a sucker for things that are well made or have interesting construction and cheap (you should see the clever way that chair folds up). The chair needs a little work, the grill needs a little patience. Both, I am confident, will benefit from some love. 

The formatting is being odd, sorry. Yes I did notice it and no it won't let me fix it. Yes I could have centered everything but, no I didn't want to. I like when things are left justified. 

Black Leather Pants and The Limitations of Imitations

I am aching for something kinda wild. I have a bit of a wild side, always have, and I find it is most appropriately expressed in clothing. As a result I long for a pair of really great black leather pants. When I was in High School I had some pleather pants that didn't get worn much. They were cheap, and gross feeling, and they made an awful noise when I moved. They were fake and they did not satisfy my urge. So, like an unrequited love the desire continues to burn in the back of my mind.  

Recently it occurred to me that tight, black leather pants might have an expiration date. I would imagine after multiple kids, maybe even after one kid, I won't want to squeeze and stuff myself into tight black pants. I know some women are remarkable and have bodies that bounce right back. But, my pre-babies body is already pretty pear shaped so... I am not counting on it. Plus, one should have a style that ages and matures and black leather pants don't feel super grown-up to me. All of this is to say that I am feeling desperate to get something wild right now. Sure I have plenty of quirky things in my wardrobe that I wear with pride, but I want something else, something new, something more. However, I cannot justify spending lots of money on leather pants (I have a strict policy that I do not spend large amounts of money on whims and/or fads) and lots money is what they cost. So leather pants are out, after all, I have already learned that an imitation just does not satisfy. 

I saw these beauties online. They could work, in fact I totally dig them. So, I have been watching them wishing they would go on sale. Wouldn't they be wonderful with a white v-neck shirt? I would be so happy to have this for a date night. But... still, the price. Not going to do it, especially when I can't even try them on first. Not everything looks great on every body. 

Then that waxed jean look started popping up all over the place. I was simultaneously thrilled and frustrated. I am one of those dopes that still sometimes wants to be the only one with a certain item of clothing. I know, I need to work more on that aging and maturing thing. So, I tried these on, they are cheap and have a similar look-ish. 

I am showing you the backside because that is where I encountered an issue. See that big hem across the rear end, it is right there, right above the pockets. See that? Now see it on a body, my body to be exact. I apologize for the poor quality of the image but I don't actually want a better, clearer picture of this.

You will note two things: 1. evidence of me being very pear shaped. After the above shopping adventure I showed this imagine to him explaining the disappointed I have faced and he said (in response to me calling myself pear shaped) "A lot of that is just the bad angle of the camera." While that is very kind of him, let me say, not all of that is the camera angle. 2. The other factor in making my rear end (which can sometimes, often even, depending on the judge, look cute in pants) look like that, is that line. You can see it better in this picture because it is cutting my bottom in a very unflattering way; creating what can only be described as a double bottom. I stood in them for a while, thinking, wishing. I stood alone in that dressing room debating if wearing long shirts would make this a worthwhile purchase. The price was oh so right. But the fit, oh the fit. I would like to know who has a bottom that is flattered by a line like that? Awful. Just awful. Yes, I do realize that most pants have a hem across the bottom but one that low? You can almost fit my entire phone (see my left hand) in between the top of the pants and that hem. How could that be flattering? 

Maybe my bottoms just isn't made for wild pants. Ugh, well I guess I am still in search of something a little wild to add to my wardrobe. 

In the next post I try on a slightly wild skirt... 

Too Many Men, Too Fine of Hair

Yesterday when I got home from worked I glanced in the mirror and was not thrilled with what I saw. Have you had that happen? You go all day without much thought to your appearance, not really looking in the mirror. It was a busy day and I am not so vain that I need to rush to the bathroom and verify my hair and make-up instead of get the things done that need to be done. However, I am vain enough to feel a bit annoyed when, at the very end of the day, I see the results of my morning ritual were not that positive. It wasn't a huge deal. I didn't have something on my face or my fly unzipped. I had too much part. 

That may sound ridiculous to you, but it is a true fear of mine. Too much part haunts me like food in teeth on a first date. Let me explain, in case you don't have this problem and, therefore, don't understand it. I have really light, fine hair so if not well placed it can seem almost nonexistent. Imagine the consistency and quality of a cat's fur and that will give you a good idea of what I am working with. So when my hair is pushed or pulled too fiercely it can create too much part, or if we are being more honest, near baldness. 

So noticing this at the end of the day made my heart a little sad and then I immediately thought, with some resentment, "why didn't anyone tell me?"

There are a few pretty easy answers to that question, they are:

1. Most people don't understand or know how to articulate the problem of too much part. So how could they really tell me about it? 

2. I work with pretty much all men and I am pretty confident they neither notice nor care about the part in my hair. 

3. I live with a man and he was half asleep when I left in the morning. However, too much part would probably not concern him either.

Conclusion: I need more women in my life, women that I see often, maybe even daily, and that understand my fear of too much part.  Or, I guess I could just relax and assume if no one else notices that it shouldn't bother me all that much. I think it might be easier to just find a way to be around more women. 

I Didn't Hate Being Single...

Last night I had one of my dreams again. I have been having them almost every night since we got married. I dream that we are dating and something has gone terribly wrong, or that I have to go on some dreadful blind date with someone that is not him, or that we break-up, or any other single/dating dream. These dreams, as you can probably tell are not me longing for or living out some remaining single desires. Not me wishing I was still in the dating game or even wishing we were still in the falling in love/getting to know you stage of our relationship, these are more like nightmares.

I casually mentioned these dreams to a friend of mine at work, just in passing, making some kind of joke about how my head needs time to totally catch up to the reality of my new life. I was single for years and have only been married for months. So I imagine my brain hasn't finished the transition yet, I am sure that is natural. Change takes time. My friend laughed and with a hint of judgement in his voice said "you must have hated being single." I didn't. Did I?

These dreams are so real because they were real. I have had similar experiences before, lots of them with lots of attempts at relationships. In every one of the dreams my heart drops and I think "wait I thought this was good" or "I thought I was done" sometimes in my dreams he is not there at all and I am stuck going on what feels like endless dates knowing that somewhere there is something better. Knowing that he is somewhere.

I didn't hate being single. I didn't. I always knew that Heavenly Father had a plan for me and was aware of me, and that He loved me. But, I have never made a secret of the fact that I did want to get married; that I wanted to find someone. I didn't hate being single. I just love being married.

There was one moment in our dating where I started to think the worst. We had talked about marriage and in my mind we were getting married. I mean, why wouldn't we? This was a gazillion times better than any relationship I had ever had or ever even dreamed of having, of course we were getting married.

We were lounging on the couch at his apartment one afternoon and I asked something about our inevitable wedded bliss. He looked at me kinda concerned, kinda worried. And then he said "I am not sure." I looked at him kinda confused while the weight of what he said slowly smothered me. I felt so heavy, so tired, like I had finally let go of all my singleness only to have it boomerang back and slap me in the face. I could barely hear what he was saying now all I could think was "I thought we were getting married." I went home and sat in my room; I tried to calm down to think about he really said but I couldn't. I couldn't even cry. I just kept thinking "I thought this was it"

He came in sometime later that night and sat down next to me. I braced myself for the inevitable break-up and cursed my stupidity in really thinking that this was different; thinking that marriage was our inevitable future. He looked so shocked when I said something about him coming over to break-up with me. I couldn't figure out why he was so surprised, this is how things went. He told me that he just needed a little more time to be sure. That marriage was big deal and he needed to really be sure. I still felt like the end was coming. We talked for a while and soon we were more on the same page. I was a little confused and a little angry; but we talked. That night he sent me a text that said "Please remember that I love you." Now I was even more confused than ever but much less angry; this was new to me. A new world where people work together and are honest about how they feel. A world where break-up isn't the only response to an unexpected conversation; where good-bye isn't the only answer.

When I woke up this morning I turned to see him asleep next to me and knew this wasn't a dream. As I walked around our apartment and saw his clothes and shoes mixed with my clothes and shoes. I once again reminded myself that this was my life, our new life. I felt tears building behind my eyes as I kissed him goodbye and hurried off to work. We have been married for months but my brain is still adjusting. Still adjusting to this new type of interaction that actually began long before we were married. This bond that started just a little while after we first met.

I had a lot of years of being single and there are certain things that you start expect; break-ups and bad dates seem so inevitable. But things change. Heavenly Father does have a plan for me, for us. I didn't hate being single, I just really love being married. Well, I guess I should say, I really love being married to him.

The Invasion is Coming and It Is Not What The Movies Have Prepared Me For

I have never been very fond of a mustache, even a "good" mustache. Now people will immediately retort with something like "what about Tom Selleck?" To which I would say, "yeah, I don't know... I guess..." What I really guess is that maybe, just maybe, a mustache is ok if you started it in the 80s, after all I was started in the 80s and while I hope I am nowhere near as confusing as a mustache I do have some sympathies for that decade. So ok, I will let people have their 80's originated mustaches without a fight.

But, what is with mustaches being so in style right now? I didn't get it when dudes would show up at church with mustaches (and often no socks with their nice church shoes and suits. WHAT?). I didn't get it when guys at school would grow mustaches just because they could. I don't really understand having a mustache image on a pillow or a t-shirt. I almost get have a mustache on a stick for silly pictures, because sure sometimes you might want to be silly. I totally get wanting to be a little quirky; I love to be quirky. But, are mustaches and mustache paraphernalia really that quirky? If they were quirky they sure aren't anymore, right? Something can't be considered all that quirky when everyone and their dog is doing, literally you can find fake mustaches on stuffed animals and I am sure people have or are just about to put them on their real animals. All of this is very confusing to me. You can get a leather copper mustache necklace or crocheted mustaches (who whats to take the time to crochet a mustache); there are mustaches everywhere. They are littering Pintrest and Etsy and everything else internet related. People are even having mustache themed parties, what does that mean?

 I have continually been confused and stunned to hear of all this mustaching, but today things got worse. I was just browsing along and saw it, a mustache ice tray. I don't know what to say, I feel a little... well uncomfortable really. I guess it is possible that I am just not hip enough to get this super awesome trend. but, I feel like any minute the mustaches are going to take over everything. It is like my biggest nightmare. Some kind of creepy invasion but instead of allies or transformers (which if a lot of Hollywood history is to be trusted is bad enough) it will be mustaches.

Is it just me or is anyone else feeling a little uneasy?