Hungry likes the wolves

It's a full moon tonight. Normally on a night like tonight, I'd be worried about wolves. Werewolves! I've been thinking about wolves a lot lately because of an article I read in National Geographic a few days ago.

Perhaps minutely worse than being surrounded by a pack of werewolves is being surrounded by THREE PREGNANT WOMEN!! Yes, I am surrounded.

My sister announced yesterday she is pregnant! Just shy of three months. Mr. TrevTrev will have a playmate (hopefully female) come Christmas 2010. Becky carries her babies high in her belly, which means her pregnant body's shape resembles a fat little kid. Think Chancho in Nacho Libro.



My landlord/friend Alison is upstairs, and pregnant. I sometimes wake up to her pregnant lady yoga DVD. Other than that and hearing her talk about how fat she is (lie), she's a pretty average pregnant gal.

My crazy circumstantial roommate is eight months pregnant, and easily is going through the weirdest pregnancy I've ever been exposed to. Sometime, when I'm more removed and not wounded by it, I will tell you all about it. Poor little soul.

I'm going to Houston tomorrow to see my Jeffy!

The woes of online life

I have what some may feel is an archaic sense of custom and etiquette with certain things. Prominent in my mind lately is the looming task of collecting invitees and addresses for the wedding.

The modern protocol for young 20-somethings undergoing this process is to send out a Facebook group invite, where you post your address on the group wall and you'd darn well better if you want an invitation because that's the only way you're going to be contacted about it. No personal telephone call, no e-mail, no text, no personal message. Probably because the extent of your contact has been on Facebook (which to me means we're not really good friends anyway, unless you live in a foreign state or country).

Tell me if you think I'm being a drudge, but I just can't get on board with this. I've denied myself six wedding invites in the past three months simply because I refuse to add my name to a generic list. I feel like my present is being invited more than I am. One time I received a group invite to the wedding of a girl I'd only interviewed for the Daily Universe. Granted she and I were in the same social circle, but I doubt she knows who I am anymore. I was stunned to get that group invite, which is probably the instance that turned me off to the whole group thing in the first place. I think that's really the kicker, is that often these group invites come from people I'm not close to, and in reality, I wouldn't invite them to my wedding, so why are they inviting me?

On Thursday I lazed around fighting a 102 degree fever all day. Now I feel almost completely better! Thank you Regan for tending to the sick and needy, and thank you Amoxicillin! You are a miracle worker, even if you taste disgusting.

I am excited to marry my Jeffy :) This time next week I'll be visiting Jeff in Texas!

Why does Monday always come back so fast?

I wonder why we as humans are so fascinated by how other humans live their lives. Why do we post intricacies of our lives on the internet for all to see? (Why do I write this blog?) Why do kids from my high school, whom I was never really friends with, add me as a friend on Facebook? Why, in my ward's Relief Society, do we have a "Good News Minute"? Why do you read my blog (if you don't know me personally)? If you haven't made an effort to talk to me in six months or more, and we have no potential need to stay in touch career/networking-wise, why should I keep your phone number? Your friendship on Facebook?

As previously mentioned, I'm currently purging from my life many of my earthly possessions in preparation for My Big Move to be with my One True Love, my Jeffy. My measurement of an item's worth is this: Have I used or worn this item since I've been home from my mission? If yes, I keep it. If no, I will attempt to sell or donate it. It is working well so far. And I guess what I'm wondering is if I can use the same philosophy with my many Facebook "friends." Or my profile in general. I haven't used my Myspace profile since I've been back. I didn't use my Facebook for 18 months. Obviously I don't need it.

I saw "Babies" yesterday. It is not for the faint of heart. Mainly because the film exhibits breasts in their primary function so graphically I'm rethinking my desire to bear children. Though PG, there is A LOT of nudity. It's in context, but altogether it's excessive. (Or perhaps I'm just a prude). The film follows four babies in various parts of the world. You will see all but one mother in the nude. Of course you will see every child in the nude, and you will see one child discover his nether regions. The little Mongolian baby boy won my heart the most.

I should have retired to bed 47 minutes ago.

Friday, I'm in love

I have no shame. I go to movies by myself on Friday nights and I don't feel bad about it. I saw Robin Hood tonight and I liked it. I have always been a sucker for knights in shining armor though. And Russell Crowe.

I try not to feel sorry for myself, but I'll be honest that tonight I do, pathetically enough. Just a little bit. Because the movie got out 45 minutes ago and I've come home, eaten a PB&J and I'm debating between watching a movie here at home, going to get birthday cake ice cream, or going to the gym. Really I mean and/or because by 11 pm tonight I will probably have accomplished all three in random order. But if I go to the gym it means I'll see my hairstylist who always wonders why he sees a girl like me at the gym Friday nights (as if he's the only person with no friends, or few). And if I get ice cream first then I'll have to bring it home before I go to the gym. But if I go to the gym, then to get ice cream, I'll have to go to Smith's in my workout clothes, and that is just too much for me.

But I have no shame :)

Texas, oh Texas. Wherefore art thou Texas?

What is it about a full time job that makes my brain too numb to do anything articulate? Until 11 pm, apparently, when I've recovered.

Many changes are afoot. Yes, I'm talking about getting married to my beloved Jeffypoo. There are many, many things that must happen between now and then. Like moving to Houston, which is going to be much sooner than we'd originally anticipated. One would think that I, after having been so transient the past six years of my collegiate life, would feel nothing but confidence in moving to Houston.

I am happy, scared, overjoyed, sad, excited, insane all at one time. I am currently ridding myself of many material things, ranging from clothes to bicycles, an antique steamer trunk to a very comfortable bed. If I possess something you would like, please consult me and I may give it to you. No you may not have my ceramic bald-eagle-in-mid-flight statue.

I have always been able to sing songs about going home to California. Joni Mitchell's ode to my great state hits a chord. Phantom Planet's is cliche, but it'll do. Tony Bennett croons my lost heart's anthem. What ballads are there about fair Texas?

Des Moines. What's Des Moines?

I would first like to say that being engaged, even long distance, is really great and I highly recommend it when you get the chance.

I am on day three of my Wells Fargo-funded training trip to Des Moines, Iowa. I have the difficult choice tonight of either accompanying the more raucous of the group to see one of our classmates fight in a scheduled bar fight (think Robert Downey, Jr. style in Sherlock Holmes but with girls in bikinis nearby), or to accompany the conservative girls (another Mormon, a Muslim and a recent divorcee) and the one femme male to the mall. Hmmm. Tough choice but I think I know what I should do.

Aside from all the enlightening sales skills I'm being indoctrinated with, I'm experiencing a bit of culture shock. Not for the area itself but for the popular pastimes among my WFF peers. Like drinking. Swearing every other word. Gossiping. Talking trash about other people, particularly one of our more loud-mouthed classmates. And this is all normal outside of Utah. Is it? Or are these people excited to be away from home and still in the "Don't tell mom" phase? I, at an old 24, am particularly glad my perpetual adolescence ended long ago, or really never began.

The word is out around here that my coworker and I are Mormon. We've had many questions, mainly about the Word of Wisdom. Answering inquiries on alcohol and tea is easy. But really now, what do you tell people when they ask why we don't drink coffee? With people on my mission, "Because the Lord said so, seek your own answer," was often good enough for coffee and tea. It doesn't work when you're talking to coffee-guzzling twenty-somethings who want concrete facts. I need to figure this out. Today my new Philadelphian friend Bobby asked me, "So since you're Mormon, you don't use machines, right?" Our table of six had a great laugh about that. How frequently we are still confused with our Amish brethren. And Mennonites. But we are among good company in that regard.

I miss the mountains.

Just thought you should know...

Jeff and I got engaged yesterday at my most favorite place in San Francisco, the Sutro Bath ruins. It was a gorgeously windy day. No fog. Just sun and lots and lots of wind.



We don't know much about marriage, but we're excited to find out. Our date is set for September 4 at the LDS Oakland Temple. We will be married not just for time, until we die, but for all eternity. If you are not familiar with LDS temples and the concept of eternal families, please watch this short video.



I would like to write a short ode to my Jeffy, who went so far as to have a friend of his in SF leave cheesecake and blankets on a rock down on Ocean Beach, below the Sutro Bath ruins, for us to enjoy immediately post-engagement. It was so sweet and unexpected. Sorry ladies that this tender, sensitive, selfless manly man is off the market!

History: We've shared a unique and loving friendship over the 6.5 years we've been friends. Jeff and I met freshman year in our freshman ward. We were in the same FHE group. We immediately became close friends. Our friendship continued to deepen as he served as a missionary for the LDS church in Uruguay. He later commented that I wrote him more than anyone outside his family. Of course, we had no romantic inclinations toward each other at this point. When he returned we continued our friendship. I don't remember at which point we decided this, but we made a pact long ago that if we weren't married by the time we were 30, we'd marry one another. Then I went on a mission and he wrote me, again with no intentions of romance ever. When I returned in November, we began talking again. He invited me to visit him in Houston. I did. And that's all she wrote.