mostly probably

“Don’t you get lonely?” This is a question I get a lot. The answer is no. Here is why.

1. The contents of my kitchen include the following: Honey Bunches of Oats, Life, Ovaltine, milk, butter, my special pickles, lean cuisines, clementines, bread, and butter. What is intentionally missing from the list is anything gross that might be placed next to my food by a would-be roommate. Not happening. The days of having to move my roommate’s moldy yogurt and tofu to get to my special pickles are over.
2. Last night I took a bubble bath while listening to Usher louder than should be possible, while reading my latest David Sedaris, while laughing my head off at my latest David Sedaris, while singing at the top of my lungs, while texting everyone possible, while eating one of my special pickles. True story. And I thought to myself, “Maybe I shall shut the door.” But I didn’t.
3. Today I went to RC Willey and looked at couches. I found the most amazing, impractical, beautiful, microsuede sectional ever made. I wanted to buy it. I considered buying it. Very seriously. I think that probably the primary motivation for anybody to give up roommate life for single lonerish life is when you see gorgeous celestial couches, you’re not forced to think of the greater good. You have the glorious chance to think, “I love this couch. I will buy it.” When you live by yourself, your opinion is the only opinion.
4. My toilet seat stays down and the toilet is clean. Rather than being bothered trying to sort through different compartments, my makeup, jewelry, and nailpolish is all scattered about in one jumbled mess on my bathroom counter. Someday I’ll get around to organizing it, but for the moment it works.
5. I don’t get bothered unless I specifically ask for it. I leave my porch light off and I do usually try to stay as quiet as possible so nobody driving by happens to know someone lives here. Is that weird? Probably. Does that bother me? Not at all.
6. I am up here without friends or family. I work, I come home, I watch movies, I work some more, I go to bed. I’ll call or text people but ultimately I enjoy that my life is mine to fill my days with whatever I want to. Being married was kind of a drag for me in that way. No decision was just my own. Everything I did affected somebody else or had to meet someone’s approval. In my basement apartment, I am queen. That deserves a “woot.”

Anyway, I have been thinking a lot today about my lonerish ways. And a blog was born. The first night I was here I felt lonely and called a friend and we chatted for a little bit and then I was fine. I wholly embrace my life at this particular moment in time. The only thing I guess I would say I’m missing is another jar of my special pickles. The jealousy overwhelms you. The end.

I just got back from Portland again. Good times. Now I am sitting in my room after a week and a half of not sitting in my room and I have mixed thoughts about it. Being with Jonny in Portland is extraordinarily fun but despite that I still feel mostly glad to be back in Provo. Here are some reasons why.

1. Pretty sure Jonny was tiring of me being there pretty much all the time. (Actually, no “pretty much” about it. I was there all the time.) He finally lured me out of the house yesterday, with promises of outlet malls and letting me drive his pretty and fast car. So he successfully got me out of the house, and I drove a beautiful Mustang and went shopping for several hours. I got a cute job interview outfit. Because I have job interviews. They are phone interviews but I will probably wear my cute interview outfit for them anyway. Yay!
2. I’m not playing with any of my friends, but I did discuss the possibility of doing something with a couple of them. I like my friends, and I like that I have the option now to go and see them. I like that Chris sent me a text message on my way home from the airport asking me if I needed a ride home. I like that we talked briefly about doing something, but ultimately decided that I would rather read and they would rather eat things. So now I’m blogging and will soon get back to reading Me Talk Pretty One Day. Thank you for being awesomely hilarious, David Sedaris. Thank you. (Yep, I realize that I rhymed almost!)
3. As small and unkempt as my box slash room is… there is something to be said for the fact that it is my box slash room. Two things in this world bother me. The first is disorganization. The second is folded shirts. Living out of a suitcase is difficult. Your life is either stuffed into a canvas box or scattered throughout someone else’s world where there is no place for your stuff. I’m pretty sure the clothes I brought felt stifled being folded. I like to give my clothes the freedom to breathe in their designated spot, color coordinated ROYGBIV-style in my closet. While Jonny would not have minded me hanging up my stuff, the third item on my list of things that bother me is being an inconvenience on people’s lives. (Rather than ask for a ride to the airport, I parked for 11 days at the airport. It wasn’t incredibly cheap.)
4. Hippi didn’t come with me to Portland this time around. I missed Hippi.
5. The final thing I’m going to mention is the comforts of driving in Utah. It’s not because the drivers are so great, because we all know how Utah drivers are. We’re all guilty of making some of the same mistakes. But sometimes I get confused with directions. I rarely know which way is east or west, and all the streets in Portland feel the need to be a mixture of directions. They are all SW Rhododendron Ave or NE Blueberries Rd or SE Spiderman Drive. Pretty sure a street not far from Jonny’s house is NWSE Suckas! Circle. So to drive somewhere and the only thing you have to figure out is whether 7200 So. or 5300 So. is further south, and which one is most likely to have a Subway… well… it’s just comforting.

Another thing I like about Provo? I have Ovaltine. Jonny, you should invest in that. In case you forgot how to get to the closest grocery store, take a right on NE Brutisse Ave, left on NS Wherethehellami Drive and head North on SE Drivinghereistotallyworthless Ct until you run out of gas. From there, just pray a hitchhiker will spot you and bring you some. Hitchhikers always have Ovaltine.

Here is a brief list of the things I miss about Logan. Having lived out of it now for eight days, I feel more or less qualified to write a blog about missing it.

• I miss Frankie, the deaf dog upstairs. I was just perusing old posts (yeah, I do that sometimes) and ran into this one and about cried thinking about Frankie living within his silent little life. As I packed up the rest of my stuff on my last day in Logan, I looked up and Frankie was propped up on top of the washing machine in the guys’ upstairs apartment looking at me and pawing at the window. I know he was saying goodbye. Dearest Frankenstein. I’ll always miss you little buddy.
• I miss the smallness of it. I haven’t walked anywhere in eight days. Everywhere requires a drive. I miss walking to the temple on Wednesday afternoons. I miss walking to the grocery store to buy lean cuisines. I miss walking home from the grocery store with four bags of lean cuisine in each hand. I even miss walking to school. I miss the crossing guard that would pull out his stop sign when I crossed the street like he did for the little kids.
• I miss old people. I miss Stella, my next door neighbor, who always called me honey (either because she forgot my name or just because she really loves me). I miss the old people who lived in the retirement condos next door who I would always trade old people banter with when we both went out to get the mail. I even miss almost being run over by the ones who could still drive as I walked across their driveway.
• I miss Logan people. I miss my Logany friends, but I also just miss Logan people. Provo is much too ghetto to be quite so friendly. I was thinking about it yesterday, and it was with a great deal of sadness when I thought about never going to Serendipity again and having Julie do my hair. I’ll probably never see Darrick’s latest hair experimentation, and I will miss the fauxhawks. I miss the guy who rode his bike down Main Street and campus honking his bike horn at everyone. Good ol’ crazy guy.
• I miss my favorite of bakeries and quality discount cheese. Will someone please send me a care package that includes a roast beef sandwich from Shaffer House Bakery? In Logan style, I walked there on occasion (usually after I got done getting my hair done at Serendipity–more sadness) and could really use one of those right now. In this care package, I would suggest also including a variety of dips and cheese from the economy bins from Gossners. Bless you, cheese buffet.

And that’s it. Overall I am happy to be in Provem/Orvo/Prorem. It has its benefits.

The Italian Place in Orem has much bigger sandwiches than the one in Logan. People randomly drop by to see me in Provo. This is where my roots are. This is where Beckie and I, in a fit of insanity, decided to go out one night and serenade random boys with “Glory of Love.” Memories like those can’t be replaced.

Orem holds eighteen years of significant memories. In the past few days, I have driven past the old house where Otis lived and ate our underwear. I drove past the old field where I first held hands with a boy and then later ran away from him because he wanted to give me a present and I hadn’t yet mastered the art of talking to the opposing gender.

Beckie will be glad to know I drove past Michael Clayton’s house just for old time’s sake (and to see if I could catch a glimpse of him looking wistfully out the window, wondering what ever became of me). I drove past my old junior high where I first danced with and stalked Michael Clayton, the old high school that I spent very little time in, and the MTC where Holly and I constantly tried (and met with great success) to sneak in the gates. I even blasted “Dreams” by the Cranberries for old times’ sake, and it reminded me of the times I did that exact thing seven years ago.

How very tender. Does anybody want to revisit the Great Steak Sandwich Co. with me? I have a craving for stale gum and gossip that has been gnawing at me for a decade.

Today was, overall, a good day. I didn’t do much except…

…Change this. I don’t know why I did it for sure. I have been thinking about it for some time now, but when I was in Portland something snapped in me and I decided that it was really going to happen.

I think the overall thought I have about it is that it is pretty fantastic. As well it should be. A fantastic blonde needs a fantastic head of red(dish)/brown(ish) hair. And not to mention some cute bangs. Do I speak the truth?

P.S. Is one of my eyes bigger than the other? I have been paranoid about this for many a year.

…Play this. Scrabapples is a Scrabble/Apples to Apples hybrid that, I kid you not (I would never kid around about board games), I made up while I was sleeping.

I had a dream that I was playing a game that was part Scrabble, part Apples to Apples, and I have a few friends just crazy enough to attempt in real life a game that came to me in a vision. It was, in my never to be humble opinion (as Dr. Laura would say), amazing.

…And force Chris to take pictures like this. We tried to watch “Click” but things didn’t turn out that way at all. Too tired and too camera happy Mollis become giggly, out of control, and pretty much impossible to watch movies with. What happens is people laugh too much, pictures get taken that should never have been taken, and a good night’s rest is more or less out of the question.

Also, as it turns out, I am more or less obsessed with sleeping bags. There was one day last week when I got all sorts of locked out from my regular dwelling place at the time and ended up sleeping in a sleeping bag in Chris’s basement apartment. Ever since then, this sleeping bag and I have been inseparable whenever I go to his house which, turns out, is kind of often.

It’s just so silky smooth. The sleeping bag. Naturally.

Dear friends,

I love you.

Love, Molli

The title of today’s blog is courtesy of an old Clay Aiken song. Is there such a thing as an “old Clay Aiken song?” I take it back. It’s just a Clay Aiken song. And don’t ask me how I know, because I most certainly did not listen to that first CD he made. It filled me with no joy whatsoever. I didn’t even know if he made one or not. What’s going on? Moving on…

Today was a successful day. Here is why.

1. I went to church with my cute surrogate grandparents and cried through most of it. I am the world’s biggest baby, but I am a sucker for two things: pioneers and surrogate grandparents. There is no way to ever thank them for everything they have done for me.
2.  I saw chickens and consequently insisted on a CD filled with over 200 pictures of the beautiful fowls that reside in the backyard. I can say without reservation that I am in love with them and without chickens in my life, I would unavoidably perish. To have chickens in such close proximity is nothing short of a dream come true.
3. I am also in love with Poochie, my surrograte grandma’s Chinese Crested. She is the smartest dog alive and untied my shoes for me this morning. And I dropped a potato chip on the floor and she ate it. And I don’t know why that makes me love her more but it does.
4. I found a renter for my apartment! Finally, someone who loves my apartment as much as I do. The other people who have come to look at it have looked at it with disdain or skepticism, and balked at the idea that utilities are not included and there are no hookups. But this girl said she loves my apartment! And that makes me want to pay her next year of rent for her. I love my basement and I’m sad to leave.
5. I found an apartment of my own in Provo. I have to share a shower with someone. But my room is private and furnished and it should be good anyway. I don’t know how I feel about living in BYU country again but as odd as it sounds, BYU country is a lot more fun than USU country. Believe it or not.

Success. I give today four stars. It would get five but the potatoes I had for dinner had eggnog in them. Better luck next time.

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting about Argentina. I would like to say it’s been because I’m busy but really it’s been because I’m having a pretty awesome time and just haven’t felt like it. Here are some of the highlights.

Hanging out with missionaries is fun. I have developed several crushes on several missionaries and now want to marry all the elders and be BFF with all the sisters. I have been able to go out with the sisters and hung out with a coupule of them earlier today just talking. Missionaries are awesome. This picture is one that we took when I went out with Hermana Urban and we visited Lilly, a recent convert. We’re sitting in front of the house that Lilly built herself. It was pretty super impressive.

Nieces and nephews are fun. My brother Matt and his wife Jenny came with their four kids about four days after I got here. I have been out in the land of lost causes (read: Logan) for too long and it has been so much fun to hang out with the kids. They all make me laugh constantly, especially Lily. I laughed so hard at Lily looking at her arm skeptically when Elder Fife questioned her handshake that Sprite came out of my nose in front of my favorite missionary. And it was embarrassing when he asked me, “What’s up with you?” Uh huh. Nothing. I’m just devoid of any sense of social grace.

We were able to go to Noche de Luz, a Christmas program that the missionaries here do. That was pretty much amazing. We also went to the Capital, which was also amazing. We ate steaks there. That was amazing. They were big and amazing.

Tomorrow we’re going to the coast for a few days so chances are I will not blog again until I get home. Since everyone always wants to know what my life plans are, and since they’re so exciting, I have an apartment down in Provorem that I will be moving into, and then I’m turning in mission papers. And then hopefully I’ll go on a mission next year sometime. Time will tell.

Questions? Do ask. I’m not sure what to write. Argentina is fun!

As a lot of you know, I tried to sell all my worldly possessions last weekend. And it was pretty much lame and made me depressed inside. After trying desperately to list things for sale yesterday, I decided to just give away everything I own. So seriously, if there is something you need, will you let me know? I probably have it. I would rather give this stuff away to friends than sell it to people I don’t know. And I’m far too lazy to give it to DI. I feel good knowing things are going somewhere familiar. Does that sound weird? Off the top of my head, I have:

• Furniture. Couches, coffee table, desk, two tall bookshelves, a chair I bought twice from DI (argh), an old super heavy but really pretty piano.
• Quilts/Blankets. I have a few blankets I am looking to part with. Remember how I have 50 billion blankets with plans to make several more in the next year? Please save me from myself. One is really pretty and has the Bountiful/Timp Temple embroidered into it and its silky goodness is awesome.
• Clothes. I know everyone in Logan at least is going to need some coats. I have hats and gloves and scarves and mittens. And more clothes. Lots and lots of clothes. And shoes.
• Picture frames. I have accumulated 20 billion picture frames.
• Books. I have a box of books for sale on Amazon but I don’t think I’m going to sell the rest of them anytime soon.
• Piano music. I have a box of piano music. Most of these are lame (I’m keeping the goodies) but if anybody wants them, have them for me.
• Random knick knacky type things. These include but are not limited to cute baskets, bowls, shelves, a wall clock, uhh… mostly baskets, and storagey type things.
• Kitcheny things. Bread machine, electric frying pan, dishes, silverware, plates and stuff. I try to use paper things to avoid having to do the dishes. EVER.
• Bags. Lots and lots of bags. Backpacks, messengers, purses, sneak-stuff-into-movies-purses, makeup bags, you name it. Most of these haven’t seen daylight in a couple years, so don’t feel bad. You’re not robbing me of my most prized possessions. Most of them are pink.
• Bath & Body Works stuff. I have been collecting Bath & Body Works body butter, lotion, but mostly hand soap for five years and have quite the stockpile. I use maybe one every two years by myself. I would like these, my closest friends, to go to a worthwhile home where someone can appreciate the aromatherapyness. I will probably keep anything Eucalyptus Spearmint.
• Food. I know, this is weird. But I don’t want to throw it away. Vegetable oil, olive oil, chocolate chips, sugar, flour, etc. etc.
• Birds. They are fun, I promise. Don’t listen to R. Please adopt them.
• My apartment. Actually, I’m not giving this away. Actually, I’m going to have to pay $150 fee either way, but I’m selling my contract (goes until August) for my apartment. I need to be out of here ASAP since I’m leaving the middle of December. If you at least know of anyone who might know of anyone who thinks they might know someone who needs an apartment… please give them my number. It’s in the best possible location in Logan and it’s big and bright and clean, and there’s a deaf dog who lives upstairs.

You may not think I’m serious, but I am. And please don’t be shy. If you’re reading this and don’t want to leave a comment please call me. And if I show up at your house randomly and I’m holding a messenger bag full of body butter… please don’t be alarmed. That’s what you’re getting for Christmas.

Yay for my house (mostly probably)! She didn’t have a picture of my room but I’m assuming it’s not totally disgusting…

I’m feeling all fluttery. I don’t know what to do. I have been in cahoots with the LDS Institute down in Austin (North Austin, Natalie, because I thought it would be easier to get a job there) about finding me an apartment. And I feel like crying because I found one. I would be living with two other girls, both LDS and single, in the master bedroom (with a private bath) of a house.

I haven’t prayed much about it because I don’t know if I can deal with the answer that I get. What if I have to move? Moving = scary. What if I am supposed to stay? Staying = More boy angst, more nondates. Mostly I want to move, but mostly I want to cry because I want to stay in Logan. Not just in Utah. Logan. My ex-husband taught me the therapeutic nature of decision making through lists. So here goes.

Moving Pros

• I wouldn’t be paying a whole lot more for my Austin apartment than I am paying here. (I would have roommates though, which makes me feel sad a little.) That’s how amazing Austin is. Utilities and internet are included, and there’s a washer and dryer in the house. So no more laundry unmentionables nondates. But I was surprised at how inexpensive it was. Who knew?
• Remember how Austin is warm?
• Remember how my sister and her cute kids live there, and I pretty much never see them, ever? How far away would you be, Nat?
• I can’t shake the feeling that I need a new life. One that is in all ways incredibly different from my old one. Moving somewhere else within Utah wouldn’t cut it. I recognize all of these things holding me back from going (see cons list) and I don’t want to live like that anymore. I have felt more like myself the past few months than ever before, but there’s still that residual sadness and unadulterated loathing (thank you, Wicked) that keeps bubbling up to the surface at random opportunities. It’s nothing I can’t live with, but I would really love not to. Anger is debilitating.
• I’d like for people to not say, “Didn’t she just get divorced though?” when they find out I like someone or actually want to date and move on. In Texas, I have the option of letting people know (if they must) that I got divorced. Not everyone knows and keeps track as they apparently do here, gauging to make sure the appropriate waiting period between divorce finalization and actually being allowed to have feelings for someone has passed. I am tired of people deciding for me when I should date again, when it’s appropriate to have regular human feelings. It’s my timeline. When you get dumped by your husband, I’ll maybe take your suggestions into consideration as to when it’s okay for me to move past my divorce. But probably not. So basically… divorce anonyminity is a big pro.

Moving Cons

• I feel like leaving would be equal to abandoning everyone who has helped me out through the past few months. It feels a lot like betrayal to me, and betrayal is something I know a little bit about. I have experienced so much love and compassion and it bugs me that I would think about picking up and leaving and not looking back. I owe so much to all of my friends here. Not a day has gone by since my divorce and even before that I haven’t depended on one of my friends or family for something. That is probably my biggest motivation for staying here. Well, second biggest.
• I stayed in Cache Valley because of a boy to begin with and it seems history is repeating itself. My friend told me that a boy can be a good or a bad reason to stay, and that she thinks I should stay if I think there’s a possibility of my relationship with said boy turning into something more… significant. Well what if I think there is and he doesn’t? Leaving could make me get over it… or he could get married right after I move, and then I would die. And I want to live. So that’s a con.
• I don’t have a job in Austin. Based on my less than perfect interview skills, I’m not sure I would be able to get one. This would for sure mean working as a secretary or receptionist somewhere. But having a mindless, less stress job such as this could also be considered an item for the “pro” column.

Well I’m done now and it’s time for me to go to therapy. And I thought I wouldn’t have anything to talk about today. Woohoo!

Today. This weekend. This whole week. Wow. Um. Okay. The best thing ever happened amidst all the garbage. Notes, words, and stories of encouragement from my new best friend, my obff (old BFF). One of the men who visited my yard sale has been married for ten years now to the love of his life. Both were married for 35 years to other people who cheated. He told me their love story and I cried. I have never met two people more in love with each other, or more compassionate and selfless towards a confused, angry, lonely blonde sitting in an apartment with her lean cuisine. An email:

You have been so kind.  I really mean it when I say that if you find yourself with some time between your leaving and getting out of your apartment, you are truly welcome here.  Why don’t you come by and we can show you how much extra room we have?  We don’t believe in coincidences.  Please let us help if we can. We are anxious for you to see our home, with our chickens and our ducks.  May you be as happy as we are.  I am convinced you are making good decisions.  People’s character doesn’t usually change that much.  Best Regards,  Pat

Yup, I love them. And chickens. And ducks. And them. Key points from the rest of the week that was less than wonderful:

1. Twilight. Ridiculous and underwhelming (thanks for the word help Michelle).
2. Realizing it’s okay to want to get married sooner rather than later. Don’t freak. Not tomorrow. But not three years from now like I’ve been saying either. My obff helped me see that maybe it’s okay to want to get married again. That maybe I will. That maybe I want to.
3. In a moment of epiphany, seeing the difference between having self-esteem and being self-assured. I have one and not so much the other.
4. Me and Michelle deciding to be healthy and opting for Pita Pit. Then deciding to go get cheese and crackers from Gossners, and Oreos, and Squeezits!
5. The most violated and depressed I have felt after selling most of my worldly possessions. It’s just stuff. But it makes me feel sad.
6. Also love High School Musical. In this order. 3, 1, then 2. Junkyard scene is truly the best.
7. Love this girl. And this one. And this one. And this one. Love phone calls, visits, and emails that make me laugh, that although I’ll be answering phones and fetching lunches forever, my talents are worth at least a new pair of shoes. I forget I’m alone, that I’m leaving whether I like it or not, that my life is worth about $582. I’ve got a new waisted pea coat and awesome shoes.

I’m sorry I’m a downer. I guess I feel down. I don’t know why. I do know why. I’m afraid of leaving and having to make new friends, and I hate people walking through my house picking things up and taking them away. I hate the wind that blew all the leaves from our yard into my stairwell. I hate trying to decide to leave and going back and forth about it. I hate avoiding the word “date.” I feel like moving would be abandoning everyone here who has helped me during the homicidal, suicidal, depressed, angsty, frustrated, lonely and generally hellish experience of the last few months. It feels wrong. I hate it. I want a puppy.