How it Continued

Once upon a time, a boy named Stephen decided that he was going to be a firefighter over the summer. He was going to fight fires with a crew that would go out of the state for 2 weeks, firefight, come home for 2 days, rinse, and repeat. No phones for the 2 weeks out of town. No skype. No girlfriends coming to visit.

Then, he met a girl named Heather. (Me.) At first I liked him, and then I loved him, and then I didn't want him to leave to do firefighting.

This is how I pictured the summer going:

him

me.

 But I also didn't want to tell him what to do, and I didn't want to ruin his plans and dreams, so I resigned myself to a summer of lonesomeness and tried to think of ways to make it not be the worst thing ever.

Then, plans changed, as they are known to do. Stephen wasn't going to leave for the summer after all! I would be lying if I said I wasn't pret-ty overjoyed about that unexpected turn of events.

Then plans changed again, and the day before my parents came out for my graduation in April, Stephen decided that he was going to take another job in Texas. For the whole summer. He was going to be in Texas, not Utah, for the whole summer. He'd have a phone, and Skype, and I would go and visit him, and he would probably fly back to visit me.

Everybody's got trials, I guess. So I again resigned myself to a summer of lonesomeness and tried to think of ways to make it not be the worst thing ever.  If I had had more time, I probably would have spent some of that time moping and whatnot. But I didn't have the time, so I just tried to really enjoy those last few days before Stephen left.

My cute parents came to town, met the man, took us out to eat about a hundred times, took a buttload of pictures, and cheered for me as I graduated.

I don't know why my dad is so dang cute, look at him all dressed up in BYU colors!

The best mom on this planet :)

It was a wonderful few days, even with all the packing and moving. I'm sure my parents didn't love that part, but they were good sports and so incredibly helpful. I couldn't have done it without them!

Okay, now back to this guy. 

On Friday, we went mini-golfing with my parents, Kelly, and Dahl. It was basically an exact copy of a double date the best friend went on when her parents came to town to meet her man, including the part where the losers had to buy everyone ice cream at the end.

Probbbbbbably the best score I have ever, any times ever, gotten mini-golfing.

Stephen left at 5:30 the next morning. He came and woke me up to say goodbye, and after I sleepily reminded him to floss his teeth err day, he left. 

It was a little embarrassing, but whatever. 

When my parents left on Sunday, I was pretty lonesome. The best friend and I started making plans for incentives we could offer to our boys. We had really good ideas, like sending them care packages, a party in a box, and tickets to fun things in Houston. For 60 sales, I would go visit Stephen. At 100, he would come visit me. Coping was off to a good start!

Stephen was Mr. Logical Think-About-Money-and-the-Future Man when he left on Saturday morning. I was Miss Blubbery-I'm-So-Abandoned, but that's beside the point. The point is that between Saturday and Tuesday morning, I became the little girlfriend that could (be supportive albeit lonesome all summer) and he became the boyfriend that couldn't (stand the thought of us being apart all summer). 

So plans changed again! In this order:

1. He was going to come back on Thursday and work in Utah all summer!

2. He was going to come back on Saturday. 

3. He was going to go home to Indiana and work there for the summer. 

4. He was going to come here first for a week or two, then go home to work in Indiana. 

5. He was going to come back to Utah on Friday? !!!

6. Nope. Still Saturday. 

Lots of changes to the plan err day.   

So then this was pretty much me. 

 But on Saturday morning, I picked him up from the airport. And became one-half of this couple:

Except, it wasn't quite that picturesque. And he came out to the curb and I picked him up there. But still.

Stephen pretty much told me that the reason he was coming back to Utah was so that we could get engaged. I had always thought that I wanted to be totally surprised by the proposal, and I was very against the idea of going ring-shopping.

But that very day, we found ourselves in the beautiful city of Salt Lake, climbing a spiral staircase

 up to the 3rd floor of this place,

to look at a few things that glittered and were definitely not gold. I've heard some horror stories about ring-shopping, so I guess it's not always pleasant. But it can be very pleasant when you are being assisted by a wonderful, warm and not snooty at all lady named Liz, and when your boyfriend keeps saying things like "I just want it to be something you like," and "Can we see it with a bigger diamond? Just to see." 

I had to go back to school on Monday, but every day that week when I got home, Stephen and I would eat dinner and then do something fun. That weekend, we took a trip to Moab.

While there, I learned:

1. Rock climbing outside is very different than rock climbing inside.

Here's me climbing inside. Look how high I am on that wall! How fearless! That smile!

Aaaand that's me climbing outside. Stephen took this picture without zooming in with his phone, so yeah, I really am like 6 feet off the ground. Look at those hips! Tucked in all up on the wall. That deer-in-headlights expression! Where did that even come from?? I have no idea.

 2. I learned that I can improve! The first time Stephen had me try to climb something in Moab, I panicked. I had never felt such an irrational fear in my soul that was so insistently pervasive. But THEN, the next time he had me try to climb something, I actually got very high! It was still hard. That didn't stop me from being very very proud of myself.

3. I learned that if you do a good job of climbing, then it's okay to look a little tired in the after shot. 

 4. Climbing with some of the red sand in your hairs is okay.

5. Going out to eat at a local place is something you need to do.

6. Going to famous places is also something you need to do. It is funnest to go to these famous places if you-you-you, you work ouuuut, because then you can run some of the way, and you get there in a 1/4 of the average time it takes people to get there.

7. I learned that I like Stephen in Moab just as well as I like him in Provo. And that is how it continued :)

Why would I try it?

I heard THE WORST thing on the radio the other day. The DJ was talking about prenuptial agreements and said that now, not only are people writing prenups for money and stuff, but they are also writing lifestyle prenups. That means that they write out their expectations for their marriage, and if those expectations aren't met, it's grounds for a divorce.

Here are some of the examples they gave:

- If either spouse gains 40 lbs --> divorce.
- If either spouse cheats, the other one can cheat on them right back.
- The wife wanted to go dancing at least 4 times a year, and if her husband didn't take her, she was allowed to go with whoever she chose.
- If the husband was going to have an affair, the wife had a list of all the women she would be okay with him having an affair with.




I thought this whole discussion was ridiculous and sad and I hated it. So when my parents came out for my graduation, and it was still on my mind, this conversation happened:

me: Mom, what would you do if Dad gained 40 lbs?
Mom: He wouldn't.
me: But what if he did!
Mom: I guess I'd tell him to work out....
me: Oh. What if you gained 40 lbs, what would Dad do?
Mom: I have no idea, why would I try it?!

Which is a response I really like. I guess when I get married, I won't try it, either.

Meeting the Parents

There was this one time when Ashton Kutcher went to meet his fiancee's parents, and it went horribly. He was a really nice boy, but Bernie Mac just did not think he was suitable marriage material for his daughter, and he took every opportunity to make that abundantly clear.

While this concept made for a movie that I found very funny, it is a concept that hits all too close to home for some people. Namely, 90% of the male population. Boys get nervous about meeting girls' parents, just as a general rule. Dads are overprotective, moms are picky and fastidious, and the fear is that, no matter what you do, they are not going to like you.

It's easier to be a girl and meet a boy's parents, at least in my experience. Dads are generally easy to please - if you are not a troll, they feel all proud of their son and they like you. Moms like you as long as you are not a hooker. Bonus points are always awarded if you are good with kids or can hold a conversation.

So keeping all of this in mind, and remembering that I am a girl, it should not be too surprising that meeting parents is not something that has ever really bothered me.

.......Until now. Tomorrow and Wednesday, hordes of parents will be descending upon my school for Parent-Teacher Conferences. They all want to meet me and ask me how their child is doing. And I am not particularly looking forward to it. In fact, if I'm being honest, I'm dreading it.

I just really don't want any of them to go all Ashley's sister on me. I have an entire year to convince my kids that I'm nice and they should like me. I only have 15 minutes with their parents.

Wish me luck??

An Attitude of Gratitude

Of course, I am thankful for all the typical things: family, friends, food, the gospel, America, etc. Here's what I am thankful for besides those things:

- roommates who understand that my love languages are food and good parking spots

- boys who have 8-packs

- the Park City outlets

- that the one time I ran into an ex, he didn't know about it

- .....and he looked bad anyways

- 4-hour naps on Sunday - these are so essential to my happiness



- my sisters and their blogs

- the Draper temple

It is beautiful inside, seriously beautiful.

- that one time my mom dropped Crisco on Nicole's foot

- that other time when Nicole said, all nurturingly, "Jacob. When I was your age, I had e-coli." And Jacob replied, "What? Whose poop did you eat?"

- that time when Julie was squinting at the menu at Disney World and this employee came along and kindly handed her a menu in Spanish

- all the times when we have started singing at the table, quietly, and then Nicole has joined in, a little louder, so the rest of us have stopped singing, and my dad has looked up from his meal and gotten upset at Nicole

- the mental image I have in my head of Nicole in seminary

- Antoine Dodson....I know this was like 2 years ago but I still want to thank that guy for the hours of entertainment he has provided me with

- that I know how to make frittatas, lemon glaze, meatballs, parmesan broccoli, paper snowflakes, Hootenanny pancakes, and a plethora of other things

- that my roommates can make even more things

- that I don't have a unibrow

- Cassidy Jane Carbaby

- that one time when my dad started singing about a lemon tree at the dinner table

- that one of my students came in on Friday and gave me a piece of paper with a note that said: "Miss Connor you are the best teacher thanks for being my teacher see you after school!" and had a purple jolly rancher taped to it

- Owen Wilson

I don't know what it is, but I love him. And I am indeed thankful for him. 

Christopher....bye.

While preparing a social studies lesson for tomorrow, I had a bit of a crisis. So of course, I went to the smartest man I know: my dad.

Via google chat, I said:

     me:  dad

   did christopher columbus not really find america?

   did he just go to haiti and cuba?

   did amerigo vespucci discover america?

He responded:

 Sid:  that's right ...

To which I said:

 me:  dang it

i've been so deceived

And then this little cyber-barb appeared on my screen:

 Sid:  i am in a meeting and what you are writing is being displayed for the whole world to see


You know I felt just fantastic about that. I think I turned pink as I pictured all the suits tilting their heads slightly to read what I had typed, and then glaring as the ignorance of it all settled into their minds. I pictured my dad getting all flustered and trying to ex out of our conversation before any more damage could be done. I pictured my latest message popping up insistently, clamoring for a spot on the screen.

It took me a good three minutes to come up with this response:

me: sorry

good thing you knew the answer or this would have been really embarrassing

God bless the public school system. Just, bless it.

Storm's a'Brewin'

So my cute famiglia is in Maryland, Dorothying it up with Sandy as I type. I've gotten emails from Amazon, Wells Fargo, and School's Out about it. And of course, there have been the countless Facebook statuses regarding the Frankenstorm. Apparently it's a big deal? (Please read that in a Despicable Me voice.)

People have been really sympathetic and concerned about it. They keep asking if my family got evacuated, if we still have power, if we're okay, etc. It's nice to know that so many people are concerned, but where I come from, rain is a good thing.

Rain means lightning, rain boots, and sitting with the lights off and staring out the window with my siblings. Rain means bright green grass, a happy garden, puddles and vapor rising from the ground. Rain means a slightly paranoid dad backing up all his computers and running around with a flashlight, just in case the power goes out. Really bad rain means no school and an excuse to sleep in. When it rains, we party.

In the old house, two houses down from the new house, we had a big window in the kitchen, with a sliding glass door and a railing so no one could fall out. There was a big thunderstorm, and even though it was past bedtime, there were three little girls sitting by that window. We each had on one of Dad's big t-shirts, and we sat with our knees tucked up in our shirts, looking out at the storm.

This isn't a picture from that storm, but this would be what we looked like.

We watched the swings on our swing-set sway back and forth, knocking into each other in the wind. Our turtle kiddie pool filled up with water, and we wondered if the giant tree would fall on us, but it never did.

I'm sure I wouldn't be writing this blog post if the tree had fallen on us. I'd be writing one called "Dear Sandy, I hate you and every other storm like you." Instead, I'm writing one called "Storm's a'Brewin'."

Enjoy Sandy, Murrlanders! And Virginians and Jersites and errbody else. I hope you like Easy Mac, good book, Blind Man Bluff kinda days as much as I do. May your laundry finish before the power goes out, and may your greatest trial continue to be the fear that you may not be able to access Facebook for a stint :)

Like Winnie the Pooh? But Better

There was this one time, two years ago, when all the bachelors in Utah got lucky.

Or 25 of them at least. Originally it was only supposed to be 21 bachelors, but it ended up being 25-ish. Why did they get lucky all at once, you ask? It's because they happened to know a girl named Christine, and she happened to plan a great surprise for her friend's 21st birthday. And that surprise involved Winnie stepping into a dark room and being surprised by a party that was attended by 21 smokin' hot men who handed her a rose, one by one, and kissed her.

There were supposed to be 21, but like I said before, there ended up being 25-ish. They basically begged to be included, and Christine didn't want to exclude anyone. This might seem surprising to some people in Provo, since not every girl has a boy clamoring after her for a kiss, much less 25. But the better you get to know Winnie, the less surprising it is.

We were babies when we met. BABIES I tell you. There we were, fresh-faced and bushy-tailed, sitting on the grass for freshman orientation. Who could have known then that over the course of our freshman year.....

1. I would spend approximately 3 nights every week sleeping on Winnie's couch instead of my own bed, which was a whole floor away from Winnie's apartment. 

2. We would make friends with some lovely people who we are still friends with today. 

3. We would go to a preference dance that we creatively asked boys to. 

4. We would get our Tucano's free meal cards in the mail at the same time, which would start a glorious tradition of us going to Tucano's for lunch on a weekend close to our birthdays.

5. We would both buy each other ice cream on account of some exciting first kisses. 

6. We would eat lunch together almost err day. We would also eat lots of other meals together. Like every time we had a test coming up and we had to study, so naturally we would eat instead.....

7. She would act as mediator during some interesting interactions with the roommates. We would design a peace pipe made of a paper towel roll and some scrapbook paper for this interaction. We would also come wearing these homemade headbands. 

8. We would be rewarded for the hours we spent mentoring elementary-schoolers with a tour of the football stadium and locker room. We would be more excited about this tour than the elementary-schoolers we were mentoring. 

 

 9. We would cuddle. At least, that's what some people would call what you see happening in that picture below....

 10.We would develop a greater appreciation for animals, like the ones we would visit in the Bean Museum. Also, like Cosmo the Cougar.

11. We would become such good friends that she would come and visit me on the East Coast that summer! During which trip, we would go to DC, NYC, New Jersey (on accident), and Baltimore.

12.  We would continue to party like (Mormon) rock stars when we were sophomores and juniors in college. We thought we would grow up after freshman year.

....but we only kind of did.

 13. We would turn into men for a night. 

 14. At some point, we would also turn into a genie and a shawty, respectively.

15.  We would take a week off from real life with some other friends from freshman year. Instead of going to classes or work, we would spend it in Vegas and California, sampling sodas from around the world, posing by palm trees, celebrating the wonderful Walt Disney, and soaking up the sun. 

Don't worry. We wouldn't feel any remorse about it. 

It's not often that you find someone who will be such a good friend as Winnie is. She is loyal and funny and thoughtful. She is a hard worker, but she makes time to have fun. She gives such good advice, and even when she says "I told you so," it's not mean. 

She wears cute clothes and her hairs always look good and I think her only fault is that her feet are not the same size as mine, so I can't borrow her shoes. And you know that's sad, because they are always cute.

She learns from her experiences. She has ambition and gumption. She is probably going to be the president one day. Whenever I'm hanging out with her and my dad calls, he tells me how great he thinks she is. Also, Nicole does the same thing.

So on behalf of my dad, Nicole, Chuck Bass, those 25 boys, and of course, myself: Happy birthday, Winnie! I hope it was the best day ever :)

Uncle Update

I just have a few things to say about this.

1. Many dads came to Dads and Donuts. The uncle did not.

2. At the end of the day, my student came and told me that his uncle still really wanted to go on a date with me.

3. I found his phone number written on a piece of paper on my desk.

4. Then I got a phone call from my student's mom, assuring me that the uncle (her brother) isn't weird and it would be fun if I went on a date with him.

Hmmmm.....

I think I am going to leave this up to you, dear readers. Should I txt the sexy uncle? Yay or nay? Please vote in my new poll! It is located on the right side of this page, up at the top :)

Kevin James in the Classroom

This Friday is Dads and Donuts in my class. At first I was really excited....what's not to love about free donuts and 30 minutes of my day already planned for me?

But then I realized that actually, there is something not to love about it. And I'm not referring to the donuts.....I'm referring to the dads.

See, here's the thing: school is kind of a mom's domain. Moms like to come in and volunteer and eat lunch with their kiddos and then leave and get on with their grocery shopping / book club / yoga class / whatever else they have planned for the day. I hand them a stapler and some papers, they gesture to a wall, I smile, and our conversation is over. I am confident that I will have a perfect bulletin board by the time they leave.

Dads, on the other hand, tend to feel kind of uncomfortable in an elementary school. Oh sure, there's the occasional dad who comes on field trips, the quintessential "cool dad" who struts in with his hat flipped backwards and his hand all ready to high-five anyone close to him, but these dads are not the norm.

The dad who is the norm looks more like....Kevin James. Picture Kevin James.

That should help.

Now picture him walking timidly up to the door of a classroom. He peeks his head through the window. He looks around anxiously until he spots his child. Feeling a little relieved that this is the right classroom, he slowly opens the door, as if opening the lion cage at the zoo, and takes one baby step in. He leaves the door propped open with his foot, makes eye contact with the teacher and murmurs, "Am I....." The teacher quickly nods and gestures him in. "Should I....do you want me to....." he continues. Suddenly there are 24 heads swiveling around to stare at him. You can imagine what that does to poor Kevin.

The interesting thing is, that in the end, the same work gets done, and it looks just as good as when the moms do it. It's just that I sometimes feel nervous that the dads are this close to getting up and running away.

Regardless, this Friday is a day when all the dads of my students are being invited into my classroom. They will sit in the 2nd-grade chairs with their knees up to the ears. They will eat donuts with sprinkles on them and glance around, wondering how they can possibly act in a way that will allow them to maintain some semblance of manliness while seated in such a position.

I was pretty excited about this, since I kind of love awkwardness. But then we got all lined up to go home today and I had this conversation with one of my students:

J: Miss Connor, my uncle wants to go on a date with you.
Me: ......Uh, what?
J: Yeah! My uncle!
Me: Hmmmm. Who?
J: My uncle [I forget his name] wants to go out on a date with you.
Me: [Nervous laughter....what is the protocol for this?? I don't want to go on a date with your uncle....] Oh....
J: So he might come to Dads and Donuts on Friday.

If their dad can't come, the students are allowed to bring a substitute. I guess it's my fault, because I did suggest that they invite their grandpa or uncle. But um, still.

I'm just a little bit nervous for this Friday now.

Swearing After Midnight

So, I love my family. Soooo so so much. I think they are the best family in the entire world.

But this last weekend, I hung out with my pretend family here in Utah, who I told you about before, and it was very different than when I hang out with my Connor family in Maryland.

For example: my Connor brothers tackle me about 50% of the times that I try to tackle them. My Utah brothers tackle me whenever they walk past me. My Connor dad likes to go to bed before 11, 12 at the latest. For Uncle Wayne, the party is just getting started at 11 pm.

Here's a summary of the weekend, in dialogue form:

Me: So what's this game called?
Steve: This is Screw Your Neighbor.
Grandma: I think we should call it, Trick Your Neighbor, or Cheat Your Neighbor. Those sound nicer.
Uncle Wayne: What, Grandma, you don't want to screw your neighbor?
Grandma: You mean my grandson? No.
Valen: Kill your neighbor?
Me: Bum-squeeze your neighbor!

"Now we've gotta sit here and watch him play with them all night...." -a very unhappy Grandpa while Caden was shuffling the cards

"Oooh, sorry. You didn't hear that, right? Sorry....I swear after midnight." -Uncle Wayne

Uncle Wayne: Hey, put those away! I got those for breakfast tomorrow.
Grandma: Tomorrow's Fast Sunday....
*Everyone pounces on the donuts. Someone gets out milk. And chips. And another bag of chips as well.*
Steve: *pushing the chips towards me* Eat some NOW! Didn't you hear? Tomorrow's Fast Sunday!

"Be nice to your SISTER!" - any of the boys when one of their brothers punched, poked, tickled, squeezed, and harassed me in any way

Brad: Girls don't fart, they whisper in their panties.
Caden: Grandma, do you whisper in your panties?
Grandma: No, I scream.
Uncle Wayne --> Grandpa: She's your wife....

"You should know they're just doing this because you're here. So they all have to flex their hormones." -Grandpa

Valen: I'm flirting with her! We're txting and flirting right now!
Steve: Yeah, maybe you can shut up about it and take your turn....
Valen: Shut up, just because you don't have a girlfriend!
Steve: You're not gonna have one either when she comes over and sees how wild you are....
Me: Steve doesn't have a girlfriend because he's waiting to take my sister on a date in the fall!

"Next you'll be saying you yodel in your panties. Here come the yodelers! Boy, that'll ruin girls for you. I never would've wanted to get married if I had heard about this before." -Uncle Wayne

Steve: Noo-no!
Me: Noo-no? You mean Uno?
Steve: Noo-no what I meant!

And here is a list of the nicknames I earned, names I don't recall ever having been called by my own family:

- Woman
- Mama
- Sugar
- Toots
- Steering Wheel
- Four-wheeler

...............................don't ask. 

Every Friend Yodels

Last week, I had the opportunity to be an EFY (Especially For Youth) counselor in Ohio. Don't ask me how I got this assignment. I know I'm from Maryland. I'm not really sure how it happened.

But since this was the job I was offered, I said okay and made plans to travel with my dad and brother, both of whom I love, and Lerone, who I do not love, to Cincinnati. Undeterred and only slightly discouraged by a series of dumb unfortunate events, in which

Lerone died 

and I cried 

and my dad sighed

and Joseph shut-eyed

and I turned into Dr. Suess,

I finally made it to Xavier University. 

^ this beautiful place!

This girl (below) gave me a nice hug and a summary of orientation. 

She's a peach. We were roommates once upon a time. Then she introduced me to my co-counselor, Dalin, and gave us time to plan and get acquainted. He said, "So tell me about yourself."

I hemmed and hawed for a little bit and then said, "I'm really good at interpreting dreams. I love dreams. Sometimes I have psychic dreams."

Disclaimer: I was really tired. I had woken up at 4 in the morning. For some reason, that seemed like it would be relevant / interesting / impressive. I just forgot that that's not the best way to introduce yourself, because you sound a little crazy. 

Dalin raised his eyebrows politely. "That's pretty cool...." he said. I think he was thinking of how possible it would be to get a new co-counselor. 

Finally I was allowed to go to bed. Ten hours after my head hit the pillow, the children arrived. 

(For those of you who don't know, EFY stands for Especially For Youth and is a week-long program for 14-18 yr old girls and boys where they go and learn about the church and make friends and play games and go to dances and have a grand old time. Everyone is put into groups of about 20-30, called companies, and assigned to a boy counselor and girl counselor, who are co-counselors with each other.)

I introduced myself to my girls. They were adorable. I loved them immediately. 

Other than that, Monday was pretty uneventful: We went outside to meet the boys. There were 12 girls and 8 boys, which is not the awesomest ratio, but is still awesomer than the group with 22 girls and 10 boys. Dalin walked around on his hands and offered my skills as a dream interpreter. We forced the reluctant youth to stand boy-girl-boy-girl. We played some games. We set some goals. We ate some dinner. We went to sleep. 

Tuesday was a classy day. As in, we had classes. It was also a little awkward when:

- I realized that I should have gone to EFY as a youth. Anddd at the same time I realized that I may have been the one getting in trouble for having my shorts too short. 

- I got syrup in my hair. And my co-counselor sweetly pointed out that this was the 2nd day in a row that I got something in my hair. 

- I accidentally referenced The Bachelorette and immediately felt like the worst EFY counselor. 

- Another counselor asked if my co and I were going to get married. 

- A boy pushed one of my girls against the wall, ran away, ran back, barked at her, and then ran away again. What??

- Dalin and I taught dance etiquette to our company and there was a riot when he told them how high on the back their hand should be. 

- One of the counselors saw a couple dancing really close, and he went up and danced by them and then slowly parted them and shimmied in-between them and said, "Leave room for Jesus!" and the girl looked at him like she wanted to kill him. And then later, all the counselors laughed about it. 

I'll blog more later about the rest of the week :)