Growing up is a weird thing

Well, this is it.

I'm currently sitting in my nearly bare bedroom with Randy beside me. My room is bare of nearly all my possessions minus my furniture. Everything else is packed up and in either my garage or in the downstairs living room. It's funny when you pack up everything you own. Two thoughts come into your head. The first is how did I ever acquire so much crap? The second is does all of this add up to my life? I hope the answer to the latter is a firm no. I don't even want to begin to answer the former.

I'm moving up to Logan on Monday. Well, I'm officially moving on Monday. I'm starting to move my stuff in on Sunday. And it looks like I'll be doing it all by myself. My folks are taking a mini vacation to Yellowstone so the plan is that I'll take up as much of my stuff as humanly possible and then my folks will bring up what's left and my furniture, including my bed. Until then, I will be sleeping on a sleeping pad–the same kind we use on camping trips.

I start work at my new job at the Herald Journal on Tuesday. It's an exciting time to be Kelly. I am now a professional reporter, though it is taking my brain a bit of time to wrap around that idea. I'll be working full-time, coming home to my beautiful apartment that I rent by myself, and doing adult type stuff like pay bills and cook dinner. I know it may seem silly for a 24-year-old girl to be dazed by the idea of being an adult but honestly, it's hard to feel like one when you live with your parents.

I feel as if my life has really finally begun. Or rather, that new part of my life that I've been wanting and waiting for desperately for so long has finally begun. I've wanted this so badly. It's a funny thing though. Now that I've started my career, I'm moving out, and finally getting on with my life, I'm feeling a bit daunted. There's this feeling of "now what?" I've wanted this for so long that it's starting to feel a bit weird not having it to look forward to. I guess now the only thing left is to do my job, do it well, settle into my new life, and enjoy it. Should be fun.

Growing up is a weird thing. When we were younger, we saw people who were 24 or whatever and considered them to be "grown up." We even call them "grown-ups." But now I find myself at that age and I certainly don't feel grow up. I feel like I've always felt, that I'm making this up as I go along. I guess when I was younger, I had the impression that grown-ups knew what they were doing, that they had a plan and knew what their life was. I don't feel any of those things. But I don't feel like I've done something wrong or that I'm the exception. Rather, I know that it was the younger me who got it wrong. I don't think any grown-up really knows what's going on or what they're doing with their life, at least, not until they're in they're middle-aged. I'm still fairly young and I think it's okay if I don't know what I'm doing or that I feel like I'm making it up as I'm going because, as the good Doctor once said, I'm doing it brilliantly.

Love you.
Mean it.

Is lazy a style?

As you may or may not know, I am not very good at being humble. I know when I am really good at something and I'm not going to hide that fact just because others may view me as being prideful. In my mind, it's not being prideful if it's true. For instance, I know I am a damn fine writer. I'm also very smart and clever and freaking hilarious and awesome. I'm not prideful. I'm just very self-aware.

However, self-awareness is a double edged sword. I know all of my good qualities and all the things I am really good at but I also am painfully aware of what I am really lousy at. For instance, I took a physics class once and it kicked my trash. The professor would put these multiple choice questions on the board and we'd have to use those little clicker things to select our answer. Not only would I pick the wrong answer but I'd pick the most wrong answer you could possible chose. I am no good at physics. Other things I am really bad at include: basketball, drawing, cooking, riding horses, spelling words out loud, cutting bread straight, and doing math in my head.

But lately I've become ever more aware of one other thing that I am really lousy at and that is fashion. I am really lousy at dressing myself, which is pretty weird considering I've been doing it for most of my life. The reason I've become more aware of how bad I am at this is through watching the show Project Runway. I love this show. I have ever since the first season (it's now on its tenth season. I'm rooting for Dimytri. His stuff is just gorgeous). But every week, I watch these designers make something just beautiful and fashion forward and awesome and then I look down at my own ensemble: red Converse, skinny jeans, and a black Batman t-shirt. My hair is in a single braid down my back with lots of flyaways, my nails are painted a vibrant blue but it chipped, and six of my ten fingers have rings on them.

I'm not even sure you can call why I wear a "style," per-say. I'm just kind of lazy when it comes to my clothing decisions. I wear jeans and a t-shirt nearly every day because it's easy and comfortable. I wear Converse cause sandals hurt my feet and they get cold really easy. My hair is usually curly and tied back cause curly is what my hair wants to do and tied back is out of my way. I'm not sure why I like paining my nails but I like painting them in bright, vibrant colors cause if I'm going to go to all that effort to paint them, people are going to notice them. The rings are my own little way of paying tribute to the memories of my life. So pretty much, if I had to describe my style, the best word is probably lazy.

I just don't like spending that much time worrying about what I wear or putting in a lot of time to look nice. It's just not a priority to me. I've got other stuff I could be doing like hanging out with friends or reading a book or playing with my dog. When I watch shows like Project Runway, part of me wishes I would put more effort into what I wear. And, granted, if I'm going out with the girls or to a party, I will put in a bit more effort and maybe wear a sundress or something. But after a suitable amount of time has passed from watching the show, I just slip back into my old routine. And I'm okay with it. I don't really dress up that often cause that's just not who I am. I'm a pretty laid back kind of girl and my style reflects that in a sense.

Love you.
Mean it.

Unexpected side effects

Remember a bit ago when I said I was trying to go off all my medications? Well, I am proud to announce that I have reduced my medication intake by 66%. And the medications I no longer take just so happen to be the most addictive ones so go me!

The only trouble right now is that those specific medications also happen to be stimulants. And by removing them from my body, I am exhausted all the time. It's pretty bad. On my days off, I'm sleeping in till 2 p.m. without waking up once. And even after that, I'm taking a nap by 5 p.m. It looks like my body is going to need some time adjusting to the lack of stimulants it has relied on for the past eight years.

My entire life, I've always remembered my dreams. And I seem to have them every time I sleep, no matter if it's during the night or just a quick little nap. I always dream and I always remember them. That being said, my dreams have become much more vidid that they have ever been before. It's kind of alarming. I don't necessarily care for it. I won't go into what I dream about (cause there are very few things more boring in this universe than having someone tell you what their dreams were about), but I will say that they seem to physically and mentally wear me out. I'll wake up from a particularly intense dream and I'll feel like I didn't sleep at all. Sometimes the dreams really upset me, mostly because of the subject matter but sometimes just from the oppressive nature of the dream.

I don't regret my decision to go off my medication, even if it is screwing up my body a bit. These are just unexpected side effects. Hopefully they'll go away soon.

Love you.
Mean it.

I don't know what the hell I'm doing

Well, it's official. My sister, Kathy, is engaged. She's marrying this tall, lanky kid from Idaho named Brian. They're getting married Nov. 16 and they couldn't be happier. She's all giggles and smiles. It'd be annoying if I weren't so happy for her. Her first engagement didn't work out too well but I'm pretty sure this one is going to stick. I really like my soon to be brother-in-law, much more so than the other one and I'm happy that Kathy is finally happy.

The only odd think about this whole situation is Kathy is about three years younger than me. It's kind of weird seeing my younger sister get married, especially considering that in the time Kathy broke off her one engagement, found another guy and then got engaged, I dated one guy for less than a month and have been on absolutely no other dates. I think it's time to admit something. When it comes to dating, I don't know what the hell I'm doing.

I've been dating since I was 14 years old. You'd think after 10 years I'd at least have an idea of how to attract a man, flirt, date, etc. But no. I really have no idea how to go about it at all. Whenever I think about my dating life, I get the sudden urge to bang my head against a wall. I feel like it was at one point much easier than it is now. My friends still tease me about how easy it was for me to get a guy back in the day.

This is a true story, told to me by one of my best friends. Once upon a time that was more like senior year of high school, I was coming off a year and a half relationship and I was back on the market. There was this boy I was interested in and he and my friends were over at my house. I was sitting next to the boy and we were listening to music on my iPod. I guess a song I liked came in and I inched closer to said boy and said something like "Oh my gosh! I love [Insert Band Name Here]" My friend then leaned into her twin (also my friend) and said, "And she swoops in for the kill." Back then, catching guys' hearts was a game to me and I was really good at it. These days, catching guys' hearts may still be a game but either the rules have changed or else I one day got really bad at it.

I'd like to think that there are a plethora of guys out there whose hearts I unwittingly hold in my hand but that's just silly daydreams better suited for a 13-year-old girl, not a mature 24-year-old woman. I'm coming slowly to the realization that I may be single my entire life. And while I am a feminist and I don't believe I need a man to feel fulfilled in my life, I do think it'd be nice to have someone there to spend the rest of my life with.

Of course, all this frustration and worry that I'm an old maid may be due to the fact that I live in Utah and by Utah's standards, 24 and single does qualify me for old maid status. Hell, a lot of my friends my age not only are married but have kids (there's a truly terrifying thought). It's hard not to feel like I'm missing something in my life when everyone around has something I don't–a person they care about to come home to. Just add it to the list of reasons why I need to move out of Utah.

Love you.
Mean it.

Paid to pray, sing, & be called names

Right now I'm working three jobs. Two of my jobs involve me writing words, which is pretty awesome considering that's what I love to do and what I want to do for the rest of my life. The other one is a bit rougher to deal with. I work for an organization (which shall remain unnamed. I don't want to get in trouble somehow) that offers in home care to adults with physical/mental/emotional/psychological problems. It's an interesting enough job though I really don't think we get paid enough for the shit we have to deal with and the dangers we put ourselves in.

Yes, you read that correctly. Dangers. Sometimes the clients can become really aggressive and violent for one reason or another and can try to attack you or throw things at you. Everyone has to go through a training program to prepare them for what may happen. I've experience very little of this so far.

The only real time I have to deal with this stuff is when I'm working with this one client. Because of confidentiality stuff, we'll call her "Stacy." Stacy is in her 50s but has the mental capacity of a 1 or 2 year old. She doesn't talk very well but can make herself understood well enough. Stacy can have these fits sometimes when she doesn't want to do something or something upsets her or for some unknown reason. She she has these fits, she yells, screams incoherently, bites herself, hits her head on walls, hits her wrists on walls, and tries to grab other people. The other day the other staff and I were showering Stacy. Stacy HATES to shower and it's a long and difficult process. Despite not having that big of a vocabulary, Stacy knows a lot of swear words and would call us a stream of profanities that I'm too ladylike to repeat here. I know she doesn't really mean it and if she does, she doesn't fully understand what is going on. I'm not offended by what she says and it doesn't bother me. It just is kind of bewildering to me that I get paid to be called these names.

One thing that can calm Stacy down is music and singing. When we got her in bed after showering, she was still in a really bad mood and would scream and bit herself. I sat down at the edge of the bed and rubbed her back. I started singing to her. I started off with the song "If I Had Words" from the movie Babe. 

It's a really pretty song. I learned to play it on the piano when I was younger and I never forgot the lyrics. It's a pretty short song so I started singing it again. After singing it twice, Stacy got wise and started freaking out again. So I scrambled to think of another song to sing. Nothing was coming. She was starting to get really irritated and aggressive so I just started singing and this is what came out:

Yes, I started singing the theme from Firefly. It was the only thing I could think of. But, hey. It did the trick.

Another client I work with is in her late 20s and has too many problems to list here. She's fully functional physically and can talk just fine. The other night when she was in bed, she asked me to come into her room. I sat on her bed and she held my hand. She wanted to say her evening prayer and asked me to say it. I immediately began to squirm. I don't believe in a god so I definitely don't believe in prayer. I didn't want to have to explain to her that if I said the prayer, it probably wouldn't work. It's like a prayer I would say would be instantly void. So I told her I didn't know how to pray, that I never learned, which is a lie but I didn't care at that point. She then began to pray as I awkwardly sat there holding her hand.

Honestly, I cannot wait to get a real journalism job so I can be paid to write words and not pray, sing, and be called names.

Love you.
Mean it.

Dear 29-year-old Kelly

Dear 29-year-old Kelly,

Hello, there future Kelly. How is the year 2017 treating you? I hope this letter finds you well. Things are a bit weird right now in the old 2012 so I thought I'd shoot you a letter just to remind you how things are going for 24-year-old Kelly.

First things first, you'd better be goddamn successful, 29-year-old Kelly. I'm doing all of the hard work so you'd better not have squandered it. Right now, I'm working three jobs. One is that internship at City Weekly (which I absolutely LOVE but it doesn't pay so wah, wah), the other is another internship with Foretelligent writing for trade magazines and such (and it pays!) and the last one is with Northeastern Services, where I help people with mental, emotional, and psychological disorders. I'm tired all the time and I commute like a mofo. So you'd better be at a place where all my hard work has paid off. Ideally, you'd better be on staff at some really awesome newspaper or magazine, preferably out of Utah. And you'd better love your job. If you don't, go somewhere else. Remember when you used to say that you don't care where you work as long as you make enough to not stress over money and you love your job? I really hope you still believe that. If I were getting paid to work at City Weekly, I'd be set. But anyway, at the very least, please, oh please, don't still be living with mom and dad. Right now it's okay for me to still be living with the folks considering I just barely graduated from UVU and have no money. But to be 29 and still living at home is embarrassing. Don't be that person, 29-year-old Kelly.

Also, I hope your love life is going well. And by that, I mean I hope a love life exists for you. I broke up with Jacob Hyden (remember him?) about a month ago and it's been pretty slow goings since then. I'm not bothered by it in the least. And I'm not just saying that cause that's what I always say. I really mean it this time. I'm quite happy being single right now. With all the other chaos in my life, I don't really have time to be in a new relationship. I'm fine just where I am, thank you. Hopefully you've found the time to have a relathionship.

It just occurred to me that you might be married. If this is true, good for you/us! How did you two meet? Wait, no. Don't tell me. I want to be surprised. I hope it's a good story, one to tell the kids and grandkids about. I wonder what he's like. The only thing I know for sure is that he makes you happy, like ridiculously happy. The only way I could see myself getting married was if he made me so happy that while I could see myself being able to one day be without him, I don't ever want to. Does that make sense? I hope it does and that's how you feel about this guy. I can't wait to meet him.

Wait, do you two have kids??? That's going to be weird. I hope that you're much more comfortable about the idea of having kids cause right now, 24-year-old Kelly is terrified of being a momma. I'll leave that to you. I'm sure you'll be much better at it than me.

Well, 29-year-old Kelly, in general, I hope you're doing okay, that you're happy with your possible husband and possible children. And if you don't have either of those, I still hope you're happy. I hope you love your job and love your life. And, if you have the time, think back to when you were me, 24-year-old Kelly writing this on the kitchen table in mom and dad's house and think about everything that's changed and happened and it makes you smile.  I hope your pile of good things is bigger than your pile of bad things.

Love you.
Mean it.

24-year-old Kelly

As Heard in the Newsroom, Part 8

This is the last As Heard in the Newsroom. I have to say, the group of people I worked with at the UVU Review are some of the finest people I've ever met. Not only are they some of the most talent people I know, they're also some of the funniest, kindest, most wonderful people I know. We put out a quality paper every week that we were proud of while having the time of our lives. I am going to miss working with them and calling the newsroom home and I consider myself so blessed to ahve been apart of it for as long as I did. 

Be friendly cause you don’t know which 20 are excited.
–Andrea 

I seriously considered going into mortuary science this morning. 

-Andrea

Who’s feeling like a seizure?
-Christina

J.R.! I hope you’re drunk right now.
-Christina

Jarom, this is why people don’t sit next to you.
-Christina

Are you self medicating with pizza?
-Christina

Bill Murray was looking at me through the mirror and it was freaking me out.
-Christina

Country singers killed in plane crashes is tragic.
-Connor

I was giving him CPR from here.
-Cortney

Wait, I though Gilbert was black.
–Cortney

That word sounds dirty! Strobe...
-Elyse

I can’t [Facebook] chat with you. I have lots of stuff to do.
-Elyse

What does it mean when I’ve lost all interest in doing what I normally love? Isn’t that a sign for clinical depression?
-Elyse

Hey, creative word people.
-Elyse

It should be pretty racist.
-Eric

That guy looks like he’s Ryan Gosling and he’s seven.
-Eric

J.R., you look like Harry Potter Prisoner of Azkaban.
-Eric

Turns out Pete’s a Chinese guy and his food sucks.
-Eric

Jimmy Kimmel is a dick.
-Eric

It’s like running but for your brain.
-Eric

Chucks transcend all social statuses, ages, and cliques.
-Eric

If it’s good enough for Jay-Z, it’s good enough for J.R.
-Eric

Do you know what button I recently rediscovered? The escape button. It really does what it says it will.
–Eric

What you’re seeing is the basic Gilbert outfit.
-Gilbert

Unless it has Final Fantasy in front of it, I don’t recognize it.
-Gilbert on Roman Numerals

J.R., thanks to your tweets, I'll never get married. I'll be all alone, just me & my piggy bank.
-Gilbert

This one time, I ate donuts for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Don't ever do that.
-Gilbert

I need to get married, man. Does your wife have any friends with low self-esteem?
-Gilbert

Just wait until I'm Student Body President, J.R. I'll make you kiss my ring.
-Gilbert

My Dungeons & Dragons character is a pixie. A pixie blade maid. Her name is Kilbert the Pixie.
-Gilbert

I ended up watching a whole episode. Dude - talk about drama!
-Gilbert about the show Teen Mom

J.R., what does it mean to make it rain?
–Gilbert

I am J.R.’s son.
I am so ashamed.
-Gilbert & John-Ross

Gilbert, as your financial advisor, I advise you against making it rain.
–Jarom

It must be true love or really convenient.
-Jarom

You like to read. I don’t want to talk to you.
-Jarom on compatibility in relationships.

So you’re saying Jesus is Iron Man?
-Jarom

Kelly, we don’t fight nearly enough.
-Jarom

I know I did something clever.
-Jeff

Sometimes I feel like you’re a hummingbird and I’m a sloth.
-Jeff to Kelly

My home teachers started following me on Twitter. I’m so screwed.
-Jeff

For reals. Learn some shit.
-Jeff on doing homework

Hashtag that to your face!
-Jeff

Who took footage of my body and photoshopped David Beckham’s head on it?
-Jeff

I’d hate to be inside your head.
How do you think I feel?
-Jeff & Kelly

I hate you.
No you don’t.
-Jeff & Kelly

Besides you couldn't handle 100%. Nobody I've met yet can.
You're like a nuclear reactor or something.
-Jeff & Kelly

What do you call that? Scatter-brained?
Yeah, or just stupid.
-Jeff & Kelly

You played Zelda all break. Go read a book.
-John-Ross to Gilbert

They will be tough but fair.
-John-Ross on writing obituaries

Nah, I shouldn’t say that. Jesus is a cool dude.
-John-Ross

I have taught Gilbert how to hold a lady’s hand.
-John-Ross

As the self-appointed newsroom fire chief...
-John-Ross

He’s eating chicken nuggets with a lady tonight. And that’s not a euphemism. He really is eating chicken nuggets.
–John-Ross

Damnit, Gilbert! Sit in the chair!
–John-Ross

I told you, Gilbert. Foot fetish is real!
–John-Ross

And with that, I bid you all a fond “fuck off.”
–John-Ross

Oh, I know. I read the interwebs.
–John-Ross

What’s your wildest dream? A golf cart?
Yep, pretty much.
–John-Ross & Christina

I’ve never seen your wife.
Are you even married?
-John-Ross & Tom toward Matt

Sasquatch isn’t playful. He eats your face.
-Kelly

There’s no way I’m the only person to ever use hashtag intellectual snob.
-Kelly

I’d like to get married once before I die. Just once. I’m not greedy.
-Kelly

Think back like 20 years...no, wait. That’s too many. Think back 10 years.
-Kelly

It’s not stalking–it’s work.
-Kelly

A paper napkin is more complex than Twilight.
-Kelly

I want to have the library in Beauty and the Beast. That’s all.
-Kelly

I’ve printed bigger things.
-Kelly

I don’t know why I just said that when I meant to say this.
-Kelly

I think if we weren’t friends, I’d hate you.
-Kelly to Jeff

It was super fun racism.
You know what else was fun? The Holocaust.
–Kelly & Gilbert

Do you think I’m a snob?
No, but that’s cause I know you.
-Kelly & Jeff

I just shot down everything you just said.
Well, fuck you.
-Kelly & Jeff

I am so sick of the sports group being accused of racism.
-Matt

This is my passion and it’s being ripped away from me in legal terms I don’t understand.
-Matt on the NBA lockout

I’m 28 and still working on my Bachelor’s.
I’m 30 and you can shut up.
-Matt & Drew

I am a media, damnit! Write me a press release!
-Vanessa