selfish humans

I have this problem where I seem to think I'm the center of the universe. And not in the "Oh my gosh everyone serve me" sort of way that reminds you of Veruca Salt when she's all "I want the world" and singing with the chocolate egg-laying geese, but in a "everyone actually cares what I think and do and it's really important to them" sort of way.

To be honest I think we all sort of struggle with that, just as our human default. We always think of pride as the top looking down, but more often than not I think people struggle with the bottom looking up.

We all do this. We spend 5 minutes trying to cover up that one stubborn pimple like we actually think people are really going to notice. And yeah, I'm sure people occasionally do, but really the problem is that we believe people look at us in the same way we look at ourselves - overly critical, aware of every blemish and flaw. I mean, next time you're talking to a friend take a look at their face and you might be surprised to see that they have pimples too. We just never notice them because we're too focused on ourselves.

As for this whole bottom looking up thing, I think we classify others as being at the top and then we think they're all haughty and too good for us just because maybe they don't worship our every witty comment. We just get all confused and mixed up in our perceptions of others. I was especially good at this in high school when I would see someone who I had raised up on some absurd pedestal and then they didn't really talk to me and I automatically believed they were prideful themselves. And that was prideful on my part.

I've come to believe thinking others hate you is one of the most selfish things ever. I mean, to assume that they even focus on you enough to think "yeah I really hate that girl and that's why I glare at her every day and don't speak to her even though she's never done anything to upset me" is laughable. Sure, there are circumstances where there's actual ill feelings, but more often than not they don't really care about you. Think about it - how many people do you actually, really, truly hate? Probably very few, if any at all (and hate, that's just a really dumb thing I won't even get into right now but just don't do it). You don't really notice that many people, do you? Because you're so concerned with other people noticing you? It's like stake dances when everyone is looking around all self-conscious because there's gotta be someone staring at you and thinking how ridiculous you look but really no one is because they're all busy looking around all self-conscious because there's gotta be someone staring at them thinking how ridiculous they look. It's this vicious cycle, and the people that have the best times at dances realize no one is actually looking at them and they just dance. And if someone is looking at you and judging, who cares? It's not your problem because you're enjoying yourself, aren't you?

There have been quite a few times in my life when people have told me they used to think I hated them or was mean because guess what? My default face looks angry. So a casual walk through the hall for me that meant nothing more than I was thinking about nothing or thinking hard about something and whatever I was thinking it wasn't what my face looked like meant "oh my gosh Anna never talks to me and look she just glared at me as she walked past" for someone else. I mean, how many times had I been in the latter situation myself? I totally got it. But I guess I just never realized others might be thinking the same things about me that I thought of others. I never realized because I was too busy focusing on my own "sad" situation.

I blame part of this selfishness on our world today (maybe all of it). I mean, we have all these social networking sites that encourage us to focus on ourselves. Don't get me wrong, I love these sites. I'm the first to admit I really enjoy facebook and twitter and instagram and all that stuff. I mean, hi, I have a blog. A blog all about me. But these sites are ones that are all, "What are you thinking about?" "What are you doing?" "What are you eating, do you want to post a picture about it? Because everyone genuinely cares what you ate for lunch." Spoiler! They don't.

Years ago we didn't have these and I'd say people were a lot better at not focusing on themselves. But now it's almost expected that you focus on yourself. The world encourages us to go out and discover who we really are and find our identity and be confident with yourself. And while all those things are important, I think people have confused confidence and healthy self-esteem with selfishness and pride. Human seem to be addicted to masochistic behavior. Here's a thought - maybe if we stopped being so selfish and wallowing in our own self pity and went out and helped someone else, we'd be better off in our identity. The more of yourself you spread around, the more there is to find.

All this was brought on because I realized I have a problem where I second guess everything I do because I worry what people will think of me. And while it's important to be socially acceptable, people don't really care what I do. They're too busy caring about themselves.

solitude.

Monday night after my apartment through a rockin 4th Annual Integration Celebration in honor of MLK day, I attended a special FHE with my friend Alex. And not just any FHE, either, where you play a few rounds of apples to apples and someone makes brownies. As great and necessary as those are, this was more just a spiritual discussion and it was wonderful (as a side note, it made me pretty excited for some day when my husband and I can lead our family in spiritual family home evenings).

The above video was played and throughout the following discussion about listening to the spirit, I was pondering all the many distractions in my life.

There's something incredibly profound to be said about silence. About having time to think, to ponder. In our world today, there is rarely a minute when we have that silence and let our thoughts wander, listen, and communicate with God. I wake up, I turn on spotify and listen to a playlist while I get ready for the day. During breakfast, I do my first round of the day (check facebook, check blogger, check pinterest). I go to school, texting the whole way. I sit in class, and when it doesn't start right away I kill some time scrolling through my twitter and instagram newsfeeds. Once I finish that I'll usually play sudoku or some other app. Class starts (I do actually pay attention at this point). Class ends, I check my phone. New texts? New emails? More tweets?

And so it continues constantly.

Now I'm not saying everyone out there has it as bad as I do. But let's just say if we call this technology addiction a sickness, I'm going to come out and admit I have full-blown cancer. Okay, maybe not as bad as some people, but there's definitely some problems with the way I'm running my life, with my reliance on social media. I can justify it, of course. It's my form of record keeping, it's how I keep in contact with people I love, it's a form of self-expression. These are all completely valid, but I guess Monday night I realized that there a lot of other things that are more vital in my life.

Forget social networking, how is my spiritual networking? In that plugged-in day I just told you about, where was the spiritual side? Scripture study in the evenings, religion classes, they were all there, just not as prominent as so many other distractions I'd allowed into my life.

And so for that reason Monday night I was inspired to leave it behind indefinitely.

Not all of it. Because blog, I love you. I enjoy having a way to express myself through writing, and I want people to stay updated on my life (if they want to), and this is a pretty crucial part of record keeping. You can say I'm making excuses, but there it is and those are my decisions. Pinterest gets to stay too, but really only for recipes. I'm no longer just going to mindlessly scroll through, pinning projects that will never happen and claiming I'm becoming more "creative". I will, however, make some killer meals with that site.

Everything else though, it's gone. Twitter, facebook, instagram, all of it (by "gone" I mean my friend has all the passwords and their apps are deleted from my phone) It feels liberating, you know? Not to be so attached. I'll admit I've suffered some withdrawals  but I know it'll get better. I've taken some media fasts before just for a week or so, and they were always a good idea. Just think of how much better this will be.

So with that story, I leave you with a challenge:

Find the things in your life that are serving more as a distraction than anything else. Figure out what they are, and do something about it. I'm not saying you need to be as drastic as me and get rid of them all (unless you feel that's needed), but find some other way to lessen them. One idea I love is only spending as much time on facebook as you spend reading the scriptures each day. That way, if you want to justify more time, you're going to have to commit more time in the other direction, too. Another idea would be to try to replace them with something better. For example, every time I have the urge to get on facebook to communicate in one way or another, I'm going to put my computer away and go find someone to have a face-to-face conversation with. Just watch, I'm going to be such a good conversationalist in a few weeks time.

Whatever it is you feel would be good for your spiritual wellness, do it. I'm not just talking spiritual as in religion, I'm talking what will make your spirit feel better? What will let your soul breathe a little and stop feeling like it's being suffocated? Because it is, you know. All of us are.

Let's do this!

trying harder every day.

It's 3 in the morning and I'm writing a blog post, because yes, it's that time of the month again - cleaning checks! Luckily this time I signed up for a much easier job, and poor Sarah continues to slave away in the kitchen, having a similar experience to the one I had a month ago.

But I didn't open this post with the intent of talking about cleaning checks, as thrilling as I know that is for you all to read. I was actually just thinking about my husband.


What caused me to think about this mystery man and write a post about him? I don't know. I suppose it could be a blog post I just read that was written by a loving husband about how much he loves his sweet wife. Or perhaps it was the fact that my roommate and I just watched Sleepless in Seattle. It definitely could have something to do with the past few weeks/months of my life, and the things I've learned.

Whatever it was, tonight my thoughts have turned to my husband, and more importantly, to me as a wife. I say more importantly not because I'm more important, but because that's the part I should be focusing on right now - being the best version of myself.

And most of the time I feel like I fall terribly, miserably short.

Don't we all? I don't say this to get pity from any of you, or to try and belittle myself. To be honest, overall I'm happy with who I am and where I am at this time in life. And that's awesome, but to be satisfied with something to the extent you no longer progress? That can be dangerous.

I know there are so many things in my life I could work on. I should be less selfish, because I expect my future husband to be. I should be a better listener, because I hope my husband is. I should maintain a more positive attitude in daily conundrums because I sure hope my husband will.

The point is, we can always do better. And I don't know about you, but I want to be crazy in love with my husband. The can't-eat, can't-sleep, reach-for-the-stars, over-the-fence, World Series kind of love. I want it to be the million tiny little things that, when you add them all up, mean we're supposed to be together.

And I could write a whole other blog post about how love isn't like the movies (in fact, I think I have), so I know this may sound contradictory. But I truly just hope I'm going to be madly in love with my husband.

Possibly this isn't all fitting together, going from husband talk to self improvement to husband talk again, but it fits in my head. Because I want to be the best version of myself for my husband, wherever he is. I want him to be crazy in love with me too, for all the right reasons.

It's hard when you feel like you're getting close to meeting that special someone, and then you realize that maybe you aren't. That maybe Heavenly Father has other plans for you right now. That maybe you're not quite where you need to be, progression wise, to meet that man. But what awesome motivation, to know that there is a man like that out there - someone who isn't perfect, but is going to be perfect for you.

That's a thought that can keep me going on this path of self improvement, you know? That's something that I'm going to hold on to and treasure and think about.

Because I want to be the kind of person I'm hoping to marry someday.

blue

Some days you just wake up feeling melancholy, you know? And that's okay. I mean, it's awful and everything, but it's also okay. Because we all need melancholy days.

But then you end up feeling bad when someone you really care about is legitimately sick and you're just sitting around curled in a ball in your leggings and halloween socks trying to procrastinate the mountain of homework and that nasty group project and wishing you could just watch Hocus Pocus and take a nap and swim in your self-pity for a while and you suddenly think, "Oh, I'm so selfish." Because you don't even have a good reason behind any of that.

So you look outside at the mountains because it's your favorite time of day and they're glowing amber and you grit your teeth and do that stats assignment and you try to deal with the group even though nothing would get done without you and you make a care package for that person you really care about because they mean a lot to you and you just want to make things better because you don't like feeling helpless like that and lipton chicken noodle soup and ginger ale always make you feel better so maybe they will for them, too.

And you realize that serving will just make you happier like that.


Here's to hoping tomorrow is better.

epiphany

You know those moments when something just smacks you real hard in the face?

And suddenly, as you sit there writing a BS paper at 1 in the morning, you realize that you're doing it all wrong.

You realize you are the world's biggest slacker, the world's best procrastinator. You realize you can get by the skin of your teeth in all things, and that's what you've been doing your entire college experience.

And you realize you don't even feel a thing when you accidentally forget to turn in an assignment online, or when you score a 14 out of 20 on yet another astronomy quiz. And school and homework is just this mind-numbing process you go through every day, but only just barely. Because you don't ever push yourself.

And you realize you spend way too much time online and stalking pictures of people you don't even care about, and not enough time figuring out what you actually care about and pursuing that. And you realize that you have so much potential and wasting your life like this is not how it's supposed to be.

And you realize that maybe if you stopped eating so unhealthy again and started drinking your water and eating your fruits and vegetables and working out you'd feel even better than you do now.

And you realize that getting to bed this late can no longer be an option. And your afternoons can't be spent watching Food Network, but they need to be spent studying for that test you have coming up because heaven knows you shouldn't be cramming like you always do.

And you realize you can't wait until you're dying to figure out how to live.

Because this Earth is beautiful. And it's here for your benefit. And the changing leaves are meant to be enjoyed. But not just on your hurried walk to school when you occasionally look up and think, "Wow," but once your homework is finished and you can go for a leisurely walk in a coat and a scarf and just enjoy the season.

And this university is grand and these people are lovely and the time is now and you've got to apply yourself.

Now.


Yeah, those are fun.

the week where i wanted to cry and laugh all at the same time

To say this week has been a roller coaster would be the biggest understatement of the century. Yes, I realize that's a hyperbole and there are probably going to be bigger roller coaster weeks this century, so I'll end up eating my words.

BUT SERIOUSLY.

Lucky for you, my fine readers, you were able to enjoy much of that roller coaster as it happened, with my daily updates ("What? Daily updates! Man, Anna, you must've had way too much time on your hands." The answer to that would be yes, I did.) about how sophomore year had been treating me so far. School itself was weird, since I switched my classes around so many times I don't really know what's going on in half my classes, and oh my gosh let's just say I think the cosmos have it out for me.

Things are good with the roommates... mostly. It's hard because the 5 of us that signed the contract together in February get along REALLY well. We laugh a lot, we keep things (mostly) clean, we have good communication, we're genuinely friends, etc. etc. The 6th roommate (mine) was random, and it seems some communication has been lacking, and because of that this weekend was, uhm... interesting. I don't want to say too much, because obviously this is the internet and it's public. I just hope we can all work things out and I'm praying to feel a lot of love for my roommate, because I really do hope we can all be friends and get past this, uhm... rough patch.

Enough said there.

In better news, while half of this weekend was filled with awful tension, half of it was filled with FUN. Because my roommates and I decided we would hold a game night Saturday night, it seems we've earned a pretty rockin' reputation around here. Whereas most of the week we were college bums (read: I watched about 8 episodes of Ned's Declassified), we pushed ourselves outside of our comfort zone on Saturday and made some good friends. Let me just tell you all, it was so worth it. If there's anything I've learned from college in my small experience both last year and this last week, it's that almost everyone feels the same the first couple weeks. A bit shy, awkward about introducing themselves, wishing there was a cool event going on they could attend, somewhat lonely, etc. The key, I guess, is to just make others feel comfortable, and providing an environment where people can chill and meet new people seems to do wonders for you, and for them.

I also tend to think of myself as the epitome of awkward when it comes to making friends with boys, but I have to tell you - I think most first experiences with these guys in my ward started out with me (and probably them) feeling awkward because it seemed like they weren't really interested in becoming better friends. But you know what? By the second or third time we talked/did something, things were infinitely better. And before you know it there's a guy teaching you all how to crump in your living room (hilarious).

So sophomore year, it seems like you've got a lot to teach me, both through good and bad experiences.

I'm ready!

One of those times

It's one of those times where you want to crawl in bed and never get up.

Not because life is so incredibly hard, or because you can't possibly finish that paper by midnight, or because you've had 6 midterms in 2 weeks or because times are hard with family.

No, just because it means calm.

It means bundling up in covers and getting toasty and laying your head on that soft pillow.

It means waking up naturally to the sound of birds outside your window and sunshine on your forehead and a complete lack of fist slamming on the snooze button. Because no one likes to wake up to resilient beeping, even when we know we must.

It means putting things on hold and not worrying about laundry or homework or appointments or tests or even relationships.

Those relationships that mean so much to you, the friends and most importantly the family. The importance of the relationship will not be lost, but couldn't it just be placed on hold for a bit? Because a full 9 hours of sleep sounds so peaceful.

It means eating grapefruit all you want and reading a new book.

Or reading an old book, because no matter how many times your eyes see the same words, they never get old. The characters you love will always be there to wrap you up in a warm embrace and give you a minute in a different world.

It means walking around in leggings and fuzzy polka dot socks because they're just so warm and cozy and no one is going to see you, anyway. And besides all that, you like them.

It means getting to bed when you mean to and waking up when you want to because no one needs a shoulder to cry on or a friend to listen.

But then what's the point?

We all want this perfect world completely devoid of worry and selflessness. Because sometimes it feels so much nicer to be selfish. And it feels nice for a bit, but eventually you start to feel sluggish. You start to lose a desire to do anything but watch Harry Potter movies over and over again. Eventually makeup doesn't seem worth it when you're just going to take it off in a few hours anyway. And why make your bed when you'll sleep in it again in a bit? And of course it wouldn't hurt to never touch the floor all day, but stay in that bed of yours.

And time passes and feelings start to change.

And then eventually you really want to put on makeup and do your hair and get dressed up. Because it's worth it for no reason at all. And eventually homework sounds nice and learning is exciting and the backpack fits so perfectly. Eventually you realize that being selfish doesn't work, because that's not how humans find fulfillment. The relationships come back into focus and you realize you miss something you never thought you would.

You miss the late night talks and the Man vs. Wild marathons with friends just because they need someone to sit with for a while. You miss the doing nothing in McDonald's because you're the one with the car and there's nowhere else worthwhile to go at 1 in the morning. You miss the hugs and tears and frustrations and love and hiccups and laughter that hurts your sides. The kind that makes you think you're about to burst from the inside. You miss it.

Because selfish can only last for so long.

To those recently admitted.

If you've recently been admitted to BYU and are starting to have some anxieties, here's my advice (note: some of this info pertains to all college life, some pertains to only BYU, so i'm sorry if you're going somewhere else but the fact of the matter is that i'm at BYU, and that's the college life i know).

Obviously I'm still only a Freshman and obviously I need to take some more of my own advice, but this is what I've managed to figure out in the past few months of my life:

Don't worry about the whole marriage thing. I've been on two dates since the I started BYU (this last August). If you want to go on dates, you'll find them, if you don't, you won't (of course, I'm personally frustrated with my lack of dates, I am terrible at flirting and all that... stuff). You'll attract who you are, so if you don't like those silly things, odds are you won't be doing TOO much of it (no guarantees).

Also, crazy concept that everyone seems to forget - YOU are the one who makes that oh so important marriage decision. So When people say "Oh my gosh, I'm so scared, I don't want to get married in the next year!" Well, then, uh... don't. That's what I say to them. No one's going to tie you up and drag you to the temple (and if they do, bad sign). I guess if you meet someone and get engaged real fast, that's a sign that he's the right one, right? And if that happens, you won't be worried.

Okay, that sounds like I'm lecturing or something. You have your head on straight, you'll be fine. That being said, my biggest regret to date in college has been that I've spent all of my time with the ladies. I love them all, but I'm in serious need of some testosterone. So don't be afraid. Don't be. Please please don't be.

And when you're sitting there your first night and feel ready to cry because it all comes crashing down on you in one sudden, swift wave of loneliness, it's okay. Go ahead and cry (go to the bathroom if you don't want the roommate seeing). Cry for a bit, read a book, get some comfort food, and go to bed. Then get up the next morning and try again. Don't dwell on those feelings. Also, I promise you every other person in your building is probably feeling the same way, or they will soon. It hits everyone at some point, it's actually rather hilarious to talk about it with them later and admit you all cried in the shower.

Heritage is cool, Wyview is cool. I'm in Helaman. Not where I wanted to be (last choice, actually), so make other backup plans. Sometimes, there are other things in store for you, so just make the best of any situation. Wyview is far away though, so that's something to consider. I know a lot of people that love it though, and if you purchase a bus pass, then all you need to do is schedule around the bus times. New Heritage? ROCKIN. Seriously. Get there if at all possible. Now that I think about it, I don't know how much of Old Heritage will be available next year. Helaman has turned out to be a really great place, too. So be open to options you didn't think you were willing to consider.

BYU is a really incredible place, and don't let anyone tell you different. It's popular with a lot of people to think it's cool to not completely obey the honor code. Silly as a lot of the rules may seem, however, there is a reason behind all of them. These weren't just designed to make you miserable and ruin your fun nights with guys. They will make your college experience better, I promise. The fact of the matter is that we all sign the honor code, so if you have a problem with it, that's fine - but why are you here? If you find it too restricting and are incapable of keeping your word, then by all means, find a different school. Don't pay attention to what friends at other schools post about BYU. I'm sorry they feel so strongly about a school they don't even attend. You're lucky to go here.

Studying with the spirit is such a unique opportunity, one that you won't find in many other places. Take advantage of it. Go to devotional, participate in your ward, do your visiting teaching, keep up on your scripture reading along with all the other reading you have to do, and say your prayers. Ask for a blessing if needed, you are always surrounded by a worthy priesthood holder somewhere. You get to start each class with a prayer - how incredible is that?

The school work is hard. Really hard. I saw a girl at another school tweet something the other day about how the class she was currently in was easier than her high school classes. Man, I was jealous. People think that BYU is all marriage and dating and weird things like that, but it's really challenging, too. Don't be disheartened when you look up at the TV in the testing center and see your first fail or C, or maybe even B, on a test. I assure you, you will live. Go take a break for a bit, watch a movie, then keep on studying.

Speaking of which, don't you dare just spend all of your times studying. Or all of your time socializing. Life demands as balance, and believe it or not that doesn't change when you get to college, though a lot of students seem to think it does.

Don't forget to do your laundry and eat food and get enough sleep. Sound simple now, but it's not. Your body is meant to get crucial sleeping hours in the middle of the night, and going to bed at 4 and waking up at noon each day is not an alternative to normal hours. It might be possible, but it's never advisable.

That being said, sometimes it's necessary to stay up until 4 writing a paper.

Be kind and cordial and considerate to others. Really, these are basic rules of etiquette, but people seem to forget it when they're walking around campus with their headphones jammed in their ears and hands stuffed in their coat pockets. The goal is class, the goal is getting up the RB stairs, the goal is getting indoors before you freeze. But not enough people look at the people they're passing and remember that each person is going through some of the same things you are every day. Not enough people simply smile and say hello.

Being kind is never out of style.

Get some "me" time. It's hard to find moments of quiet when you can be alone with yourself, but it's possible.

And finally, just enjoy it. College life is different. It's liberating and exciting and really quite awesome. It's not going to happen again, however, so take advantage of every situation that is presented. BYU is a pretty incredible place, you know?

Friends?

So. I am somewhat ashamed to admit I crumbled my first night of college. You know how I talked about being all ready a few months ago, and then I was super nervous right before I actually moved out? Yes, well it got to me. I cried a lot when I said goodbye to my mom. I was scared. I didn't have any friends*. I didn't know if I'd be able to make decent conversation that wasn't awkward. I've become really talented in the art of awkward conversation, you see. I've become so good at being alone, that I tend to freak out when I have to entertain people. So what if my room was just filled with loads of awkward silence? And what is with all this crazy school stuff? I can't do that. I can't study well. I can't budget my time. I can't figure this out.

Anyway. Such were my thoughts as I walked up to my room with red eyes, throwing away a whole slew of tissues on the way. Then I had a somewhat enjoyable night at the Helaman Halls Carnival. I went home right after while most others stayed and talked and made new friends. It seemed all hope was lost, so I decided it was time to cry again.

Then I read You Are Special, by Max Lucado. It calmed me down and I knew I was loved no matter how many friends I had. I talked to my best friend and sister, Trina, on the phone, and she reminded me that everyone was probably feeling this way. Next door there was probably a girl crying, too. And down the hall a bit someone was probably feeling nervous about everyone they had left behind. It was going to be okay.

I bundled up in my bed, and fell asleep.

You know what the most frustrating part of all of this was? I didn't want to feel that way. I hated feeling that way. Because I knew I had put myself in the same continual rut of self-doubt that I always put myself in. That I'm sure everyone puts themselves in, sometimes.

The next day was filled with orientation goodness. And you know what? I really like my group. They're very cool and very fun. I made good friends with a girl named Hannah. Last night we hung out and played Egyptian Rat Screw.

And then today was even better. I felt confident and happy all day. I loved going to the JFSB and exploring the Humanities College. I grabbed countless fliers and pamphlets and pins and pens. I sat on a bench by a fountain and read poetry and fiction and essays in the shade. I relaxed, and it was lovely. I also just got back from a Bookstore run with some really fun girls in my hall. I think the friendship will last.

So things are good, in summary. And tomorrow will be even better.

I can do hard things.

*Well, except for the hundreds of other Lone Peakers. But I want to make lots of new friends, so that entails not calling them up too often.

natural

So a few weeks ago, I began to notice that the area around my left eye was hurting. Not the eye itself, but sort of the cheekbone and eyebrow area surrounding. And I said, "You know what? That's weird." And I mentioned it to my mom.

Even weirder things happened...

The area started to get closer and closer to my actual eye! Whereas before it had just been the before-mentioned bone areas, suddenly the... dark circle area... whatever it's technical term is... was hurting too.

My mother and I decided I should probably go to the doctor and check this out. When she called to make an appointment, the nurse said it was probably a sty, but since it was something dealing with the eye area, they wanted me to come in just to make sure. Because, you know, eyes... they're only a little important.

I entered the doctor's office.

The carefully sanitized waiting room still managed to make me feel like I was getting a little more sick. The colorful chairs, the tiny playhouse, the worn out magazines, all touched by sick patients. I'm not one to get jumpy about germs, but that waiting room isn't really my favorite place on the earth.

I went in and was told that yes, I have a sty. Throw away your current eye makeup. Don't wear makeup until it goes away. Hot wet washcloths whenever possible. Nothing else to do.

And that was a really lame story (though fear not - that was just the prelude). So if you would like the alternate ending to the story, please scroll to the bottom.*

So I did what I was told (except, maybe, for the washcloth thing. I might have failed a little on that).

And we get to my point:
I didn't wear makeup for a week and a half.

At first, I was excited. I had this sort of "Let everyone see what I truly look like!" mentality, thinking that it would be a breeze. And it really wasn't too bad.

But there were times when I would pass a mirror in the halls of good ol' Lone Peak, and be really alarmed by my appearance. I would be frustrated by my looks.

And then I would be frustrated that I was frustrated. Because why does it even matter?!

And it kind of became this tiny little battle inside of me:

I look great without makeup!
Oh, I miss my makeup!
I don't look so good.
Well, shooooot. Don't say that! - You look wonderful! (yes, talking to self)
I look great without makeup!

Again and again.

So I learned some things.

1) I can look fine without makeup. In fact, I really don't need it.
2) Girls need to realize this.
3) Lack of makeup makes your face clear up!
4) Without makeup, I can get ready in the morning in record time.

Obviously the biggest one is #1. I feel really good about this realization. Is was nice to look in a mirror by the end of the week and just say to myself, "Yes, this is me. It's not artificial, it's not enhanced. It's just Anna."

Now I'm not saying makeup is bad. I'll be completely honest and say I really like it. It's fun to play with, to get all dolled up. I'm just saying it's nice to have that reminder that the stuff I put on each morning is not me. It's what's underneath!

Aaaand enough of my cliche rambling.

Have a lovely day.




*I entered the doctor's office.
Instantly the smell of a thousand ill children greeted me in a sickly chorus of "Welcome to the Pediatrics office!". An unattractive turquoise paint pealed from the walls, revealing the previous color - a mustard yellow. As I attempted to find a seat as far away from the sicklies as possible, two children came running up to me, one obviously infected with pink-eye in both eyes. The other, face and hands covered in snot, clutched at my legs furiously, burrowing his red face into my sweats and giggling like he had some secret I wanted to know.
But no, I didn't. I didn't want anything to do with these infected children.
My savior arrived in the form of a voice calling "Anna?"
I quickly stood and raised my hand, trying to claw the kids from off of me as I maneuvered through the brightly colored chairs, the stacks of cheap blocks, and the seemingly hundreds of children.
The nurse smiled wickedly as she opened the door to let me pass. I wondered, briefly, if this was the better choice - following her, and putting myself in the clutches of this lowly establishment, and people the claimed to be "certified". The moment of reflecting passed, however, as soon as I passed through the door.
Because then I knew this wasn't the better choice.
A cement hallway, dim light bulbs showing me down the forsaken passage. A stead drip could be heard farther down, as if a pipe had burst overhead long ago and never been fixed. A cold draft traveled up my legs, and I shivered.
I turned around to head back out, but too late. The nurse closed the heavy door with a slam, and laughed derisively.
"Going somewhere..." she checked a clipboard, "...Anna?"
My insides squirmed with the way she said my name - as though this was the last time I would ever hear it.
"Uh, well." I stammered, "I just... f-forgot my purse." I paused and took in her stare. "...In the waiting room." I finished lamely.
She grinned. "Oh, you won't be needing that. Follow me." She turned and started down the hallway without looking back. I decided I'd stay there - there was no way I was letting her lead me to my death. But as she passed each light bulb, it went out, and soon it was near pitch black around me. In a split second decision - one which weighed who's company I'd rather have: spiders or this deranged nurse - I followed after her.
After a minute or two, we stopped outside large metal door, inscribed with the number 13 (just my luck). The nameless nurse pulled out a ring of keys, chose one, and stuck it in the lock. It seemed jammed for a moment, but after a jiggling it for a moment, the door swung open with a creak. It opened, of course, on a pitch black room. The nurse turned back towards me and smiled in her bone-chilling way.
"Won't you join the others?"
And she pushed me inside with a cackle.