A Different Type of Shopaholic

So I have a weird disease. Whenever I get depressed or feel really lonely I go shopping. I guess this is normal for most girls, but I don't go clothes shopping or make-up shopping or purse shopping. I go kitchen appliance/gadget/home decor shopping. I feel more and more like my mother every time this happens. That isn't a bad thing by any means. I just remember a year ago her and I went shopping for stuff for my apt and I HATED it and was very impatient and mean. Now it's all that makes me feel better. I just got back from Wal-Mart (I know, lame) and I spent just under $100 dollars. In addition to everything in the pictures below I also purchased a shower caddy, trash can for the bathroom, and a toilet paper roll holder. I keep wondering what I'm going to do when I move into a smaller apartment with five times as many people as I live with now. I wonder about it for three seconds then give in to the need I have to buy all that I buy. I bought the jump rope and skip it because on wednesday I realized that I have gained 10 pounds in the last month. Stupid boy, ruining my life!



I got that dish set for only $15!!! It was quite the steal...



Good bye, evil ten pounds! I can't exercise regularly, it's just not fun or motivating for me; but I like to jump rope, and the Skip-It is awesome, and I play Four Square all the time! Next time I have money, I think I'll buy a pogo stick...

One other thing that made me very happy was listening to my little sister, Claire, laughing her head off on the phone today. She was laughing at something that Reid was doing. There is nothing like the laughter of a child that puts a smile on anyones face!

Could You Please Verify This Dead Body?

You know when you have to verify something online and they make you type in the strewn combination of letters and/or numbers, just to make sure you're a real human and not some kind of intracomputeral droid? Does anybody else feel like they didn't learn to recognize the alphabet when you do this? I was trying to comment on my aunt's blog and I had to type it in 4 times, a different pattern of symbols everytime I got it wrong. Then it starts to trick you. Is that an 'h'? Or is it a squished together 'l' and 'n'? Is that a '5' or an 's'? 'W' or two 'v's? You start to lose faith in what you learned in kindergarten and what you've taken with you your whole life. It's ridiculous. Probably some kind of government plot to make us susceptible to brainwashing by lowering our morale like that.


Anyways. Yesterday I went to Barnes and Noble. My mission: find the greatest, saddest, most awe-inspiring, odd-defying love story ever written. I was there for two and a half hours reading the backs and inside cover flaps of every book. I didn't find ANYTHING that struck my fancy, so I bought an Italian soda and mourned my wasted time. I'm going back today, but not to find that unwritten love story. I'm going to buy a book called "Stiff: The Curious Lives of Human Cadavers by Mary Roach." (and yes I know it's supposed to be underlined, but there is no underline button) It's about all the things they do with cadavers, and it even has a chapter detailing the decomposition of a human body. I've read it before and I loved it.


Don't you love when you go to a church meeting and you hear EXACTLY what you needed to hear? You feel as if the meeting was tailored to precisely what you are going through in life. That happened to me at Institue yesterday. It doesn't make sense to write down the things we were talking about, because I just tried that and I sounded crazy. Just know that I heard what I needed to hear.

Right then. Good day.

My New Project...

Ok everyone! I took Ben and Ayrel's idea, and I have made a book. It is a book of poetry and prose. And I DO have a two dollar profit, just so you know, if you buy it! It's about 21 dollars which is definitely not cheap but if you are so inclined, you should buy it. Or I could even take off the profit margin and you can get it 2 dollars cheaper. Which may or may not make YOU cheap. Just kidding. Here's the link for it.

Mind's Eye

Poetry of a Girl ~...

By Bethany Cox

Yes I wrote everything and took every picture.

Drooling Caramel

Ok, it's time to stop grieving and to try to move on in my life. It's been three weeks. Or four. I don't really know anymore. Sitting on my butt all day will definitely NOT help ANYTHING. EVER. Hopefully the rules that I have composed will help push me to be more active and less disgusting. I am gaining weight, my brain is rotting, and I am becoming increasingly depressed. I need to do something about it, because I have the power, and why waste that? Why waste me? So here goes:

*No eating out more than twice a week

*Only $50 a paycheck is allotted to "spending money".

*For every junk food eaten, two healthy servings must be eaten beforehand.

*No sleeping past ten on the days I don't work.

*Only one hour of TV a day.

*After every 45 minutes consecutively spent on the computer I must walk OUTSIDE for at least ten minutes and try to think of something productive to do.

*Go climbing at least twice a week

*Go to the temple at least once a week

So, now everyone knows my new life rules and can support me and help me out. Sweeeet.

It's the end of May, and I am still wearing a sweater outside. Supposedly it will be warming up on Tuesday. Utah.

And gas is $3.85. Middle Easterners.

Today I decided that I wanted to make a milkshake (I'm not starting "The Rules" until next week), so I got off the couch, threw ice cream, milk, and vanilla in the blender. Then I thought, 'what the heck, I'll add more sugar'. I poured the sugar straight from the bag and lost control. EASILY I poured 3/4-1 cup of sugar in the blender. I drank it anyways and it was really intense. I'm not sure I've ever had anything so sugary enter my body. I'm on a sugar high right now.

Broken

BROKEN

Walk in on my life, to things you would rather not see.

I am broken, all over the dirty floor.

Before you came, he was here

Loving me

Missing me

Holding me

Dancing me

Into oblivion

I fell asleep in his warm, strong, comforting

arms

For only one second,

but it was one second too long.

When I woke he was changed.

It wasn't even him.

It was a monster.

The monster tore me apart, ripping sinews and muscles.

It pulled every bone from every socket and every joint was burned away.

It didn't touch my eyes though

It wanted me to see what was happening.

When it was through, it held one of my dismembered hands and apologized.

It walked away.

Now you see all my pieces, strewn across everywhere

Still loving him

Still missing him

Still reaching out to hold him

Twitching in some morbid dance.

Waiting for him to glue me back together.

But my perfect eyes can see out the window

and he has forgotten me.

So Let Us Speak Of...

...awkwardness.

As most of you know, I recently had a very sad break up (well it was sad for me at least, apparently he's doing fine). I haven't really talked to him, once or twice or thrice, just cordial conversation. Yesterday I went to a ward activity by myself, because my roommates were in Vegas (did I mention that they didn't invite me?). I wasn't looking forward to socializing by myself, but I decided that I needed to.

So I get there a little late, and it seems that everyone is broken up into groups. I ask to be randomly placed in a group and by the time I get in there and the door is shut behind me, it's too late. There he is! Don't get me wrong, I have no bitter feelings towards him, it's just very sad for me to be around him.

So here is the activity: our group was given a slip of paper with a book and a movie title written on it. Our mission: write a skit to combine the two. Our slip had Pride and Prejudice and Spiderman on it. They decided that Mr. Collins (a very awkward man who doesn't know when to stop trying to court someone) would try to court Mary Jane. Guess who got assigned these two parts? You guessed it. Joe (that is his name, in case you, the reader, don't know) was Mr. Collins and I was little Mary Jane. During the whole skit he was leaning on me and talking to me and touching my arm. It was torture. I had a fun part though, I got to shun him, put my hand in his face, and say things like "I'd rather die" and "Please leave me alone". Again, it was torture.

Afterwards I tried to make small talk with him, I had two stories to tell him that I knew he would appreciate. He laughed politely and then excused himself to the refreshment table. Whatever. Then the guy who had assigned us to those parts came up to me and started apologizing profusely, telling me that he didn't realize his mistake until afterwards, but thanking me for being a good sport. I forgave him. On the outside.

Awkward moments are my life.

Today at work, on of the guys I work with, who has Down Syndrome and one time put me on a guilt trip for drinking coffee, told me that he likes me a lot and asked me if I would like to go to the movies with him. I am not sure that I am allowed to do that. I don't know if I WOULD do that, because I am morally not allowed to lead on a man with a mental disablility. Regular men, yes. Down Syndrome man, no. Just kidding. I don't play games, EVER.

Mind's Eye

Here are a couple poems. More to come later. I'm too lazy right now to format them in the way that I want them to be. The first is from 4 or 5 years ago. The others are from a week ago. Enjoy.

LUST

A dark, unfathomed tide

Of interminable pride-

A mystery and a dream,

Should my present life seem.

I say that dream was fraught

With the soul that had been bought

By his lust, not love, for me.

He who had never been

Humble.

A hypocrite and a liar,

His conceited glory rising higher

Than I can reach.

I had hoped he would teach me,

And understand my dreams, though dim.

But my soul had been bought

By his lust, not love, for me.

He, whom I had truly loved.

NO TITLE

Dream and Reality drift together

Like mist and smoke:

Harmless and deadly.

I live and breathe both,

But my lungs are turning black,

And my eyes glaze over and sting.

NOSTALGIA

Memories are precious and evil.

When time comes back to haunt me

There is no escape.

Ghosts of tender love

Whisper sweet nothings to broken ears.

Shadows of grief lurk in the corner,

Waiting to pounce on happier times

And snuff out the light.

Monsters with bloody mouths and covered ears

Hide under the bed, waiting for night

To claw at my mind.

So It Begins...

After two weeks of sitting in the corner of my very uncomfortable couch, watching Law and Order whilst bemoaning my recently updated relationship status, I have decided to let the whole world know of my woes and triumphs. Hopefully keeping a blog will be incentive for me to get out of my apartment and do exciting things so that I can write about them.

So what has been going on in my life? Right now I am NOT taking classes. I do have a job though. I work for a company called TriConnections. It is a community for elderly people with mental disabilites. I'm sure that many of my posts will include the antics of the characters I work with. For example, one lady I work with has "kids" who she talks to all night long while I try to get her to sleep. One morning, after a long night of pleading with her, so that I might also get a wink, she walks up to me and, in a very piteous manner, asks me for a hug, because her kids were calling her names. I couldn't resist.

Today I applied for a second job at Barnes and Noble Booksellers, Inc. If I get all the hours that I requested (well, if I get the job at all), I will be working about 50+ hours a week. I am excited. (That comment may or may not have been very sarcastic.) Hopefully I get the job, because it has been my working-life-long dream to work there.