All About Sarah

When I came to the University of Utah last fall, I was scared and alone, but so ready for a change from who I was in high school. I was small and had yet to find my voice. I cried a lot. I didn't have many friends who I felt I would keep in touch with, and even fewer, it turned out, would keep up their end to keep in touch with me. I was a small town girl in a bigger city, but it was still Utah, and Utah has been home to me for almost as long as I can remember.

I remember my mom telling me everyone felt like I did, but I didn't believe it. How could I believe these laughing, smiling, social people were truly as cripplingly un-functional as I was? I remember getting all my roommate's numbers, and being so scared to talk to them because all my friends at home were convinced they would be like the girl from the movie The Roommate (which wasn't actually a scary movie, but it would be in real life).

Throughout the summer leading up to my time at the University, I texted with my actual roommate, as well as the girl who would be living in the room next to mine, our rooms connected by the bathroom. Both seemed nice. But both seemed like they weren't really interested in getting to know me. I had texted the other suite-mate, but she had been busy at the time. I didn't know what to think of that one.

That one is who this post is about. I remember moving in, and discovering both my roommate and I had forgotten toilet paper, and I remember texting the last roommate who would be coming in that day in panic mode because not having toilet paper is a near-crisis. Her name was Sarah.

Sarah immediately became the mom-figure of the house. She was and is the ever-practical, straight-talking, no-bullshit kind of girl whose favorite things are babies and having a good time. We were roommates all last year, all the way up until this past weekend, when she moved back up onto campus. I woke up this morning to two of her blogposts which I hadn't yet read, and because I miss her already, I read those instead of doing my art homework. So sue me.

Sarah has had such a powerful effect on my life in such a short amount of time. She introduced me to my first lasting, non-roommate friend, Westin (who is heading to Anaheim, CA in just over a week to serve a LDS mission, and, let me tell you, he'll be the most incredible missionary that state has ever seen; he practically drips glitter and the gospel behind him when he walks). She forced me out of my room when I needed to be forced, and let me or made me stay in when she knew I wasn't comfortable going out or should have been doing better things. She threw me my first college birthday party and didn't think it was weird when I wanted us all to dress nicely and go out to sushi (she found the restaurant). She was my Valentine when I was alone on Valentine's Day. She decorated the dorm room for every holiday and birthday. She didn't baby me, or anyone, and some people couldn't handle that, but I needed it badly. She made me apply for study abroad in the Dominican Republic, even when she couldn't go. She wrote me a letter in the middle of the night on my old typewriter and hid it for me to find later, and I kept it because if Sarah says something nice about you, you relish that shizz. She gave me excellent traveling advice: that trip was for me; stop worrying about everyone else. She is one of two people who talked me through my most recent breakup before it happened, but let me realize it needed to happen on my own, six months after she had figured it out. She has given me a place to stay when I needed it, introduced me to her friends so I'm not alone, and let me alone when I needed to figure out how to sink or swim. She's hugged me and screamed with me and turned on all the sad movies when we both just needed a good cry.

Sarah, you were the best roommate, and I don't dare say that we'll never live together again because I might fight that one. But for now, I'm happy that you're still my best friend. I love you, and I'm so proud of how much you've grown since I've known you. Thank you for all you've done for me. I'll see you later, babe. Jaja.

.alexis.

Find someone worth waiting for.

I was always taught my future spouse was someone worth waiting for, and someone who is waiting for me. The problem I faced then and only recently came to terms with was "waiting for" usually was synonymous and interchangeable with "saving your virginity for" which, while perfectly within the realm of achievability, does not fall under the category of necessity.

Here, I could go into the whole argument of virginity as a social construct in defining the market value of a woman. But I'm not going to do that, because it is also not entirely relevant to this blog post.  And, without going into any explicit detail, I will admit I am not a virgin. (Is there any way to define myself in this case in terms of what I am versus what I am not? Beyond "I am sexually active" as if it is a switch you can just turn off-- looking at you, Juno.)

That being said, I got to thinking about waiting for my spouse versus saving my lady bits for my spouse, and decided I'm still perfectly capable of finding someone and being someone worth waiting for, and so is everyone else (regardless of which direction his or her sexual activity switch is flipped.) And that's why I'm writing this, because it's something I needed to hear in regards to my relationship and something I think others might appreciate, as well. Because if you were raised in a Christian household and/or church environment like me, you might have also struggled with the value placed on sexual purity, and what if rape or sexual assault or even if you just wanted to have sex? I was taught that God could forgive, but no one else wants, well, "gum that's already been chewed" is one common analogy. Besides, forgiveness is for sinners who didn't grow up in church, right? Hmmmmm.

(Side note: remember this is extreme paraphrasing and my own personal impressions of years of my life. I truly believe my parents value me as a person and raised me in the best way they could, but I was their first child and they were very young, so much was lost in translation, I'm sure.)

Yeah, let's just say, it's really hard to recover your self esteem from the dredges of that kind of mentality. And in the end, I realized not only do I not want to be with someone who values my genitals more than any other aspect of my personality, but that's a really harmful and discouraging way to look at yourself and the people around you. I'd rather be with someone who cares more about our respective general health and wellness and has respected his/her whole body by taking care of it.

While the idea of finding someone worth waiting for is nice and comfortable and something I think we can all get on board with, what kind of waiting are we talking here? Well, let me give you a few ideas to get the ball rolling.

Find someone who won't make you too mad if he or she is taking a long time in the bathroom while you're waiting. Simple, right? Except it becomes decidedly less so when you're trying to get to your destination in a hurry because you're running late or if you really, really, really have to pee and they've locked the door and don't have the ability to unlock it to let you in right that very second.

Find someone who doesn't need to entertain you every second of the day, for those times when they sleep in later than you so you don't have to wake them up. And on that note, find someone who deserves breakfast in bed on those mornings, because then you can kill two birds with one stone. This one, I will admit, is a gentle reminder for anyone who wants to date me, because you will be joining into a preexisting polyamorous relationship with my bed and multiple pillows and me.

Find someone who will let you have your own life separate from the other while you're unmarried (as a 19 year old, I don't pretend to understand how lives are divvied out after the wedding, but before that point the two of you are not a combined entity.)

Find someone who makes you enjoy the anticipation between plans to see each other, all the way up to and including the drive to their house or the walk to the doorstep. Don't wallow in loneliness when you're apart. That fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach, knowing the timer is ticking down until you see each other again, however long or short that time may be... That feeling is like none other. And eventually you'll get used to seeing each other all the time and that feeling will fade, so, please, enjoy it while it lasts. For those who aren't dating yet, enjoy the anticipation of that first date, the first kiss, the moment he/she asks you to be his/her girlfriend/boyfriend. Those things only happen once, so try not to rush through them. (The idea of marriage proposals might be a myth, I think, because I've never seen one.)

Find someone you can take the time to truly make up with after a fight. People fight. Couples fight. My parents fight and they love each other more than any two people I've ever seen in my life. If you're never fighting, you're probably doing something wrong. And it may take a while to make it all better afterwards. Find someone who is worth taking that time, and remember how that kind of waiting feels when you're the slighted one so you only take the time you need to feel better and no longer. You're not trying to torture each other.

This is the start of an ongoing personal list which I leave to you to adopt or argue against. Because the title of this blog post had to do with waiting as a verb and a position you'll find yourself in, all of the above followed the trend. I'm not about to give my specific criteria for a person worth waiting for, because what I value in a person may be totally different from you and sometimes contradictory, so you're left to your own devices with that area. And again, I'm not married, so I have a very narrow view of romance and such. 

Whoever you are reading this, in whatever place you find yourself in, know I truly believe you're someone worth waiting for. Whatever that's worth, it's still true and I think you should hear it and maybe remind yourself of it.

.alexis.

I'm sick of first impressions.

My name is Alexis and I'm the prodigal daughter of Blogger.

Let's just say I've been boycotting this site since my freshman year of high school, and I swore I would never turn back. And yet, hello, I have returned in my second year of University. (Side note: blog design is hard, as every background besides flat white looks amateur and I just want to be classy, okay?)

I've tried everything. And by "everything," I mean WordPress, Tumblr, Tumblr, Tumblr (I'm not having a stroke; I've attempted "serious blogging" on Tumblr roughly 8 times, but I have a weakness for reblogging cat gifs) and Weebly. While each is near and dear to my heart, each has driven me away because nobody cares about or remembers blogs on websites they have never heard of.

And if there are two things I crave, it's being cared about and remembered.

Just kidding, I crave chocolate and hummus more than most things in life. Not together, you creep.

If you missed out on my other, most recent blogging adventures, you might want to give those a look-see using this link. Just to give you a taste of what you're in for here.

As for me, I'm a 19 year old University of Utah girl. I love reading and writing and wearing your grandparent's hand-me-downs (or at very least, their look-a-likes.) I am happily gruesome, see also: psychotic (according to my mother.) I am the proud owner of a typewriter from the 1930s and a cat who is recently three-legged. I live with three girls, but only one has a blog that I know about: her name is Sarah. I love taking selfies and drinking Starbucks and wearing leggings and I think Uggs can be forgiven but only if you're wearing them for comfort and they are not sequined, but Crocs are a one-way ticket to purgatory. I'm the secret and unfortunate love child of a stereotypical white girl and what hipsters aspire to be. I'm also a Scorpio in an on-again-off-again relationship with really bad horror movies. My best friend is Alena and if I'm lucky she'll find time in her busy work/school schedule to read this.

Today, I spent three hours realizing my dream of becoming Raven and Dick Grayson from Teen Titans while playing Injustice: Gods Among Us and I regret none of it at all.

I hope to see you here next weekend, but I'm awfully forgetful and lazy when it comes to scheduling in time to blog. I shouldn't be, because writing of all sorts is important to me, and I don't want to treat it as anything otherwise.

.alexis.