Letters to Select Groups of Humanity and Tina Fey Gifs

Dear Touchy people who cannot engage in small talk without patting my shoulder or grabbing my hand:

I do not understand you yet, but I'm getting closer every day and soon enough I'll be able to decipher when the moment is right for patting your head, forearm, or stomach while we talk about the weather. (Not stomach? Never that one you say? See I'm learning.)

"Can you believe it's snowing outside?" says the touchy person.

(the word believe is emphasized by a squeeze to my tricep)

"Yeah, what a weird place for it to be snowing," I respond while wondering if a return tricep squeeze would be the polite response.

Dear my friends in relationships:

So when you are cuddling on the couch in my living room is that when you want to hear about my latest romantic triumphs and failures? Or is there a time that is better for you? Just let me know. I'm pretty flexible.

Dear people who give out candy in the Wilk:

This could get awkward because we need to define this relationship. I really need to sort out my emotions where you're concerned. I love it when you give me candy, but your overly aggressive eye contact makes me uncomfortable. Honestly, I'm so conflicted. 

Probably expect to see less of me because no one needs their blood sugar levels to be as high as mine. But realistically, expect to see me just as often because I'm not great at the whole "following through" thing when it comes to nutrition goals. Our relationship is unhealthy, but let's just see how things play out. Yeah?

Dear Liz Lemon,

We have so much in common. I don't care if you're "fictional" or whatever, please be my friend forever. I hope to be you when I am forty. Or when I am any other age actually.

Adventurous Friends And The Grand Canyon

It's January. The bleakest of the bleak Winter months. What could cheer us up? Sleeping outside maybe?

Lauren: You want to go camping on Friday?

Me: Won't it be a little cold?

Lauren: Yes. That's why we're going to Arizona. Grand Canyon to be more specific.

Me: Arizona? Have you ever been there before?

Lauren: No.

Me: Kay sure.

This was the group. And what a group it was.

It's Friday. 4 o'clock. We plan to drive 8 hours and arrive by midnight. We pack the car. Five freshmen. All with wads of cash in our hands to stuff in Lauren's wallet because she was our designated keeper of the cash (FORESHADOWING OF DISASTER RIGHT HERE).

4:15: Grocery shopping.

Everyone: How much food do you think we'll need?

Everyone else: A few pop tarts I think? Crackers and a loaf of bread?

Everyone: Yeah.

4:30: We intend to fill up the car with gas. We realize the wallet with our wads of cash in it is missing.

FRANTIC PACKING AND UNPACKING OF THE CAR WHILE SEARCHING VARIOUS STREET GUTTERS.

5:30: We decide to leave anyway--minus $200. But full of optimism that we can make it work. We return to the gas station. Car is full. We're on the road.

FACEBOOK MESSAGE ON LAUREN'S PHONE!

"Hey, I found your wallet. I'm at the SFH if you want it."

            REJOICING LIKE UNTO THE RETURN OF A PRODIGAL CHILD.

Road trip officially commences as we exit Provo by way of the I-15 freeway after picking up the wallet. Driving. More driving. Everyone gains a new appreciation for the game 20 questions. Julia braids Lauren's hair into cornrows. We all feel like closer friends after sharing the experience of seeing Lauren look so ridiculous.

Unholy hour of the night o'clock: I get my first sight of the natural wonder that is the Grand Canyon. My exhausted mind tries grasping at words that I had never needed to use before to describe a thing so massive and breathtaking.  

Arriving at a campground we put forth our best effort to find a perfect spot to sleep. This consists of sluggishly opening the car doors and falling out of the vehicle onto the ground.

Everyone: This spot seems good.

Everyone else: Yeah. It doesn't even feel like it is a pile of gravel or anything.

Next four hours: I am so cold I question all life decisions that have lead me to this moment, and I begin contemplating what life will be like without most of my toes.

MORNING COMES AT LAST AND WITH IT, WARMTH, AS WELL AS HOPE OF A LIFE WITH ALL TEN TOES.

We hear footsteps approaching our tent.

Park Ranger: You can't have your tent right here. This is a parking spot.

Us: Where can we put our tent?

Park Ranger: Literally anywhere else would be fine. Just not this pile of rocks that we have designated for cars.

Obediently we move our tent.

Then breakfast on strawberry pop tarts.

Everyone: Do you think we didn't plan well, food wise?

Everyone else: *changes the subject* Let's go for a quick jaunt around this place. We can bring this single bag of wheat thins and be back in time for lunch.

Everyone: Yeah.

We walk for hours down into the pinkish red walls that get taller and taller as we walk further and further. We pass lots of hikers with backpacks much bigger than ours.

Other hikers: You guys bring flashlights?

Us: No...We think we'll be done with the hike before lunch.

More hikers: You guys sleeping at the bottom?

Us: No...we think we'll be out of here by lunch.

We descend quicker and quicker until we reach a plateau. I run along the flat ground laughing at the magnificence of the rocks around me. I'm running and then I stop. My laughter stops. My breath stops. The plateau has fallen away. I see a river far below me. My four travelling companions come up behind me and together we marvel. The canyon marvels back at us. It joins us in our silent wondering that beauty exists and we were alive to experience it.

Long before wanting to, we begin our climb out of the canyon. Two members of our group are capable of running mile times that were believed to be impossible during my great-grandparents lifetime. They begin running up the canyon, while the rest of us breath so loud we cause minor seismic waves.

Us: Can we...gasp...take a...gasp... break now?

Jon and Trevor(the athletically inclined members of our group): Oh yes, of course! We can stop now! Right after we round the next three bends.

Us: *gasping dying breath sounds*

Due to divine providence, we survive the break neck pace we climbed out of the canyon at. All fibers of my clothing are dripping with salty sweat. Our only thought now is of food. Steak. And lots of it. We're going to a steak house.

Lauren, in her rush to fill her stomach with large amounts of cow meat, forgets about speedometers, and we have a nice chat with a police officer who reminds us to drive 40 mph slower than we were driving. He reminds us of this with a hefty fine from the state of Arizona.

Post chat with the less than forgiving policeman: We eat to full capacity and pay a similar amount. The conversation turns to our strong distaste of the idea of spending another night in the cold. We consider our options.

1. Sleep in the bathroom

2. Drive to Las Vegas because #yolo

3. Split the cost of a hotel in a tiny town that is debatably "real"

All options are explored, but Option 3 is most promising.

Jon: *talking on phone* Do you have room for five people. I mean...What is the most amount of people you have room for tonight.

Muffled voice of hotel receptionist: Four.

Jon: Oh yes, that's how many we have.

We are again on the road. After GPS technology fails to warn of us several closed roads we realize, whether or not this hotel we are headed for actually exists, we will never know because reaching it is not a possibility for tonight. Again: options are considered.

1. Pitch our tent somewhere in the unknown wilderness that we are driving through.

2. Return to Provo. ETA 5 or 6 AM

We decide to make the drive back to the land of the beardless and caffeine deprived. I am in the back for the rest of the drive, drifting in and out of sleep.

 When the car finally stops, I say goodbye to my friends. First Trevor and Jon. Then Julia and Lauren. I crawl into bed with the Arizona dirt still matted in my hair. I fall asleep to the sweet smell of the sweat I had earned.

Add Some FINESSA: Guest Interview

            Once I lived in a hallway where only a thin wooden door separated me from 40 other teenage girls. I came to greatly admire one of those girls for her motivation, drive, fun energy, and all-around powerhouse personality. I plan on being friends with her for a long time because I hope to use her as a reference to climb my way to success when she is the next Steve Jobs or Queen of England. This is good business. But ALSO she is very funny and writes an excellent blog. We interviewed each other and here is the result. So meet Anessa Rogers, writer of the blog FINESSA:  http://addsomefinessa.blogspot.com.

Q: Why do you blog?

 You learn a lot about yourself through writing. My freshman writing class helped heal a lot of wounds and gave me a sense of peace. But as far as my blog goes, I started it in high school, just because I have so many thoughts and ideas and my mind is always racing! Today, like all days, I was listening to Bastille and Dan Smith said the words, “I have written you down, now you will live forever…in eyes not yet created, on tongues that are not born.” By writing it down, I will never forget it. And neither will the world! And neither will my kids when I force them to read my blog to see how smart and funny I was/am/will be.

Q: You're going to Jordan soon and you wrote a post about that, but tell us more about why you study Arabic. Please.

With the growing number of white people wanting to seem culturally aware, I figured it would be good to go into the hummus exportation business, and Arabic would definitely help with that. KIDDING!

The real reason is because I love languages! Arabic is my second foreign language. I love its alphabet, the music, the culture, the FOOD (yes, hummus)- everything associated with Arabic. And I think the Arab world/ Middle East is a place under constant scrutiny and people don’t understand it in its human fullness. I think for that sake it is an important thing to study.

Q: Who is someone you admire?

 I really admire my cousin Mitch. He’s one of those people that are really good at everything they do. But usually people like that have off-putting personalities- or at least that is what I tell myself as a defense mechanism. Mitch has a very pleasant personality. Except for when he lies- he thinks lying is hilarious (it’s something he’s really good at). There are still some things he has told me in the past year that I’m not entirely sure are true. Still, I know I can count on him to pick me up when I’m feeling blue, whether it be a pat on the back or a slap in the face. He’s currently serving a mission in Brazil.

Q: Speaking of admirable people, talk about Beyonce. Which leads us to powerful women and furthermore, your thoughts on feminism in general.

Those words are actually all synonyms. I really like British female artists because they make the music they want and they’re real. I feel like American female artists- Rihanna, Miley Cyrus, Ariana Grande- don’t do that. But Beyonce is the exception. Correction: Beyonce is always the exception. She is the perfect combination of sass, class….and glutes.

I guess you could say I’m a feminist, but I don’t think that’s well-received. I just think we should encourage girls from a young age to be smart and independent and funny and have actual thoughts as opposed to being mindless, sexual objects. Is that so bad?

Q: What is it like having a name that, like Beyonce, is so unique you hardly need a last name.

I’m flattered. I thought Anessa was a unique name too- until I found Anessa Shishiedo- a sun tan lotion in….Asia. And it turns out Anessa is similar- almost identical to a name in Arabic. So, in the Middle East and Asia, I’m just another Emily. (No offence to any Emilies.) Everywhere else I can be a one-name wonder…but I just don’t have the credentials to be an international legacy.

Behind the scenes commentary--Me: Well you'll always have a Beyonce name in my book.

Q: Where do you see yourself in 15 years? 

This is interesting because I make 4-5 year plans every other week, but I’ve never been so OCD to plan what my life would be like at age….*using calculator*…34. Probably married (to Joseph Gordon Levitt) with kids, doing an accounting job on the side, before going back to work full-time. But that’s being idealistic. I’ll probably be experiencing the early stages of spinster, still writing blog posts complaining about pop culture.

Q: Five years ago where would you have guessed you would be at age 19.

When I was FOURTEEN. Because I watched a lot of USA network, I wanted to know 8 languages and work as an agent for the CIA. So, I would probably see myself still at BYU- studying something….spy-ish. But I guess it wasn’t too far off. Accounting is pretty sneaky, right?

Q: Is there power in awkwardness?

YES! I feel like the hipster movement is taking everything you were bullied for in grade school and making it cool. All your oversized and thrift-shop clothes you wore then are now “vintage”. And who was bullied most? The weird ones! Have I personally found power from awkwardness? I’m still working on that. But Rachel, I think you are leading the movement of awkwardness being the new “cool”. And I mean that as in the most sincere compliment way….awkward phrasing.

Behind the scenes commentary--Me: That's not true. Have you even met me? I am not awkward. I was asking for a friend. I'm very cool and collected. Also I was already cool in elementary school. The kids who helped the lunch ladies wash the tables in exchange for Twix bars were at the top of the social chain...so I was pretty much the top dog. 

Q: Would you say you have a life philosophy?

I spent a weekend in Baltimore and I met two men in their thirties who were really into meditation. (I promise this relates.) As I was complaining about pop music in these latter days, one suggested to take a meditative approach to this dilemma, i.e. listen to it through the ears of a 13-year-old girl who has never heard anything else.

So, I did, and Katy Perry’s “Roar” gave me an answer to this question. She said, “I stood for nothing, so I fell for everything.” I think everyone needs to have standards, goals, opinions, and/or aspirations. If you don’t, you’ll do anything. Just like eating everything is bad for the body, doing anything is unhealthy for the soul. It’s so important to try to determine what you stand for, especially when you’re young. Thanks, Katy Perry! Now go put on some cone bra.

Thank you Anessa for being on my blog, and thank you readers who read my blog. I love you. For real. Now go read http://addsomefinessa.blogspot.com especially if you want to see the other half of the interview where I answer some questions.

My Achilles Heel

         Sometimes it's hard to believe that ripping something apart and making it bleed could be a good thing. But that's what they did.      

       As I walked to the hospital the day of my surgery, knowing I would not be able to leave the same way, I asked myself if I was making a huge mistake. Why am I walking the direction I am walking?? They are going to slice my skin and shave the bone and twist the tendon and I'm afraid of all of it. I should be running the other way!

   

   The doctor said this will help. I like to consider myself a realist, but if I'm being honest, on the scale of optimism versus pessimism, I often unintentionally lean towards the latter. Whatever my pain was a week and a half ago, I was still able to do my own laundry, get myself to places I needed to be, open my own doors, go grocery shopping, ride a bike, and not endlessly annoy the people who live beneath me when I noisily hop up and down while getting dressed. So I have to ask myself if it is worth it.

  

      In nine to twelve months I should be fully recovered. I have a problem with long-term perspective, and that is a long time to me.  I want to run again. I want to lace up my shoes and feel my heart pound while the sweat drips from my forehead. I want this everyday and not in nine months.

   This is forcing me to learn patience as well as empathy for people with actual struggles that last much longer than mine.  Also, did the doctor know that with his knife he would be removing not just bone, but pieces of my pride, as I would be forced to rely on everyone around me for simple tasks? 

   I am hopeful that my injuries heal quickly. I hope the incisions they made into my bone make me stronger than before, though it's hard to force my perspectively challenged brain to understand something that feels so counterproductive. I'm learning new emotions. I'm not really happy, but also not sad. It is more of a longing anticipation. I am anticipating the happiness that I will feel when I am better. It is a different flavor of the hope that I am used to. And whatever else I gain, I am glad that I've learned this new flavor of hope.