I got a haircut

In an effort to talk about things a little less serious and a little more upbeat, I will share with you the story of my haircut.

I work in Bellevue Square, and I have been considering getting a cut for about a week now. Essentially my lovely curls were getting out of control and in my eyes far too much for my liking. Generally I go to Rudy's on the Ave, which is a wonderful, wonderful place full of wonderful sights and sounds. However after becoming delirious from working all day I decided to take a break and go to a salon here in the mall instead of waiting until tomorrow to go to Rudy's.

Now I have to tell you that while I do make a HUGE deal about my hair and making it look perfect when I leave the house, when I get it cut it's the complete opposite. I pretty much sit in the chair and let them have a field day with my Precious. I couldn't really care less. I figure I put enough effort into it in the morning I can make it look good short or long. Plus I am not really trying to impress myself with my hair, I love my hair regardless, no I am out to impress the ladies. And who better to decide what looks good on me than the lady with the experience with hair who I am paying to cut said hair? Exactly.

So we start talking and she seems nice enough. She mentions that she's gonna take it medium length because it's winter and I'm gonna want that extra hair to keep in warmth or some such crap. I roll with it and just let her go. Slowly but surely my curls come off and you can see my forehead again. And then she just... stops. I figure she is going to crab the clippers but instead she reaches for the blow drier.... wait what?

No see when my hair is super dry it gets puffy. You can't let it get puffy or I look like a dork.

Then she reaches for the product....

Um are you sure you didn't miss a step?

I mean I can't even see the tops of my ears yet.

No?

This is really when we stop?

Oh okay.

As if by some miracle she found the one length of my hair that I absolutely hate (it's still too long to style how I like it, but it's too short to have any of my curl that I adore with my long hair). Did I tell her any of this? Of course not. She asked if she took enough off the front and I said sure. Sure? Are you kidding? It looks like crap. This is not a fun and funky hair cut. This is boring, and pedestrian, something my hair most certainly is not. Why aren't you fun and funky like the girls at Rudy's? No seriously it looks like you purposefully went mediocre with my hair to make it so I had to come back in in a month to get it cut again. I try and go at least 3 months between cuts. I will not be tricked into becoming a repeat customer by your silly games.

There are 3 morals of this story:

1. Never get your hair cut in a mall. No good can ever come of it.

2. If you have a regular place, go there. Even if you have to wait a little longer, it's worth the wait to get it right.

3. If you ignore morals 1 & 2, do not ignore this one: NEVER JUST TELL THE MALL STYLIST TO DO WHATEVER FOR THEY WILL MAKE YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS.

I'm going to Rudy's tomorrow to get it fixed.

For more info on the greatest babershop in the world click here

A trail of tears aka Abandonment Part II

I can trace my fear of abandonment all the way back to the fourth grade. I came home from a friends house to find my mom, the only parent I had at the time thanks to a divorce 3 years earlier, unconscious and accidentally overdosed on sleeping pills. I called 9-1-1 and they talked me through what I needed to do. That night I spent the night at my best friend Shawn's house. The next night I was with a friend of my mom's named Debbie. Then I found myself again with a friend of my mom's except she decided I needed to stay in a foster home. My mom was released from the hospital when it was decided it wasn't a suicide attempt but by that time I was already in the system and living in Lapwai, ID with people I didn't know, in a town I had never been to. Anyone who has ever been in the system should know just how difficult it is to get out of. I was stuck in Lapwai where I was only allowed to see my mom once a week in supervised visits/therapy sessions, and rutinely beaten and punished for being a child for the better part of 4 months when I was moved into a new foster family, the Youngs back in Lewiston. I stayed there for the rest of the school year, seeing my mom more regularly thanks to the fact that the Young family are amazing people and dear friends with my mom. It wasn't the same as being with my mom and I constantly worried about her but it was much, MUCH better than the Lapwai house.

After that I became very clingy with my mom and anyone who was close to me. I tried to get held back into the 6th grade so I could be in class with my friends who were all a year younger than me (didn't work), I routinely faked sick so I could stay home and make sure my mom was safe. I still to this day follow my closest friends around like a lost puppy when I'm at a party or an event I worry that I will lose them and never see them again. Yes this includes dance parties in rooms the size of your standard living room. I simply don't do well with the idea of being alone without those that I love.

Conversely if my friends do manage to move away, or for whatever reason leave me, I cut them from my life almost entirely. I don't write my friends when they go on missions. I simply will not attempt to text or talk to you if you move away. To put it simply I try and pretend you don't exist, and you never existed. It's easier that way, if only because that means you didn't really leave me, but I left you. I wasn't the one getting left behind but instead I let you go and I didn't need you anymore. Sure if you talk to me I will talk back, but again that is because I have all the power. It makes me feel like you need me. I can't have you thinking I need you, because I don't. After all you aren't here right? So what would I need you for? No you have to be the one in need of me. It reminds me that I'm not being abandoned by you in this relationship because you still need me.

If I were to create a list of all the people I go through this same process with, this game as it were, it would be long and numerous. Shoot I don't even call or visit my own mother in her assisted living home. I want to, I think about her every single day of my life, but I don't talk to her unless she calls me. I haven't even gone to visit her in over two years simply because I "have to work." or "it's too busy for me right now" any excuse I can come up with to make her come to me. (I am planning on visiting her for Thanksgiving this year though in an effort to be a better son.) This just proves there is no limit to this disease in my mind. Family, friends, no one is exempt from me needing to prove you need me more than I need you.

I want to get better. I want to stay in contact with people should they move away to say Alaska, St. Louis, California or even just to U2. Sure the motivation is there because I love these people and I need them in my life, but still the worry of them not needing me and outgrowing our friendship just seems too hard to deal with and just inevitable enough to scare me from trying. I wish I was a stronger and better friend where I didn't worry about such pointless and neurotic things but that just isn't going to happen any time soon.

Either way I want you to know, especially those I have effectively eliminated from my life that I do still care about you and worry about you. I still wonder how you are and how life has treated you. I want to reach out that hand and say I am here for you regardless of where you live... but I'm scared.

Reconnecting a disconnected life

As many of you know I am moving in a couple days, back into my dad's home in Wallingford for a couple months just so I can get back on my feet and find a place to live. I'm not gonna lie- this was my stepmom's idea. See my dad and I have always had an interesting relationship. Talking with him about anything outside of the trivial has always been difficult. Anything outside of the realm of work, school, TV, books, movies, or computers and it becomes a long awkward silence punctuated with tears and very few words. When I think about that last statement it makes it hard to believe what I am going to say next - I am excited to live with my dad again, even for a short while.

Growing up my dad was my best friend. We'd play games, he would teach me so many wonderful things. Without him I would have no idea how to conquer the Legend of Zelda. He would do absolutely anything for me, anything. I remember one Christmas I asked for the entire collection of M.A.S.K. figures. I doubt anyone knows what I am talking about, essentially cars that turned into planes driven by guys with superpowered masks fighting crime (Oh how I miss the 80's). Well my dad took a trip to Spokane, a good 3 hours away from our home at the time, a couple times a month until Christmas and bought me these toys. All of them. I can't imagine how much time, dedication and love went into that gift. It was more than the money. And yes this is where I learned that if you love someone you buy them things. I didn't say everything he taught me was GOOD, I just said he taught me things.

Once my parents divorced a few years later, slowly but surely my dad vanished from my life. He wanted to be there, I don't want any of you reading this to think he was a deadbeat dad who ignored his son, he wasn't. He would still send me birthday cards and presents. He always tried to help me realize that he loved me. I knew that he did, but due to some complicated matters that I don't think I will share today, he couldn't be there with me through a lot of the harder times in my life outside of the child support checks. Eventually that's all he became to me were those checks. I couldn't see or talk to him because of my stupid decisions to not help. Again, it wasn't entirely his fault that he wasn't there. I wouldn't let him be there.

Once he was finally able to talk with me again it shocked my system. I wasn't expecting that phone call and when we talked it was always quiet. Very few things were said but that silence spoke enough for the two of us. Slowly we found common ground. We discovered those pointless topics we could talk about without actually saying anything. Occasionally we would try and talk about something real but it never really worked. The time had passed to talk about them. I had decided that they weren't worth discussing when they were important and now they still have too much sting behind them to talk about because we failed when it comes to opening up those channels.

I realize that very little can change in the next couple months to mend these wounds that have done nothing but grow and fester over the last twenty years, but at the same time I have faith that the beginnings of growth and healing can happen this time around. I know there are things I need to say to him and if these lines of communication aren't opened I never will be able to say them.

I love this boy

I met Mark very early in my Seattle adventure at a mutual friend's party. He was just visiting her from Spokane if I remember correctly. He seemed like an interesting kid and I thoroughly enjoyed the little bit we interacted. As I did at the time I went home and found him on Myspace and added him as a friend. Thankfully this silly little personal trait of needing to increase my myspace friends list through mere acquaintances and high school friends I don't talk with any longer has ended. Now I use Facebook. This "friendship" lasted about 2 weeks until Mark deleted me thinking he would never see me again. About 2 months later he was living in Seattle, in my ward and one of my favorite people.

Instead of just continuing to tell the story of Mark and I instead I'm just gonna break down into a list, aka the bloggers crutch, of some of my favorite Mark traits and/or moments. These are in no particular order, and I will stop when I get bored.

1. My hair apparently only looks good to Mark when I am sick.
2. I have never seen someone who seems to thrive on the failures of others try so hard for his friends to not actually fail.
3. If you ask Mark for something, chances are you will get it. Maybe not exactly how you expected to get it but you will get it.
4. If it's your birthday and you know mark even remotely, you will get a cake. The level of your friendship with him will be shown with the amount of effort and work he put into it.
5. Mark tries really hard. He may not always succeed, but he tries really hard. I think I love that most about him.
6. If I were to calculate just how much money/gas I owed Mark for all the trips, the pick ups, and the rides he's given me I'm pretty sure it would be four digits.
7. Now that I have mentioned that he'll probably make a joke about wanting to get that money.
8. He won't be kidding.
9. I'm not sure if this is Mark's favorite Allen story, but he tells it better than I do so be sure to ask him about me being pooped on by a bird.
10. Keep in mind at least 50% of it will be exaggerated.
11. Of all the roommates I am losing this month Mark is the one I will miss the most.
12. I am legitimately worried a polar bear is going to eat Mark within the first 3 months he is in Alaska.
13. He is probably vain enough to really love this entire post.
14. Except that last fun fact.
15. He stopped reading after the first paragraph.
16. I may make fun of Mark's love for boy bands and pop music but I wish I loved something that much.
17. No Mark, Happy Feet is not about the struggles of being a gay Mormon. it's about dancing penguins.
18. It is based on a true story though.
19. I'm jealous of his relationship with Kurt... well except for the gay parts of it.
20. You can finger paint with anything. Just stick your head in there.

I am truly thankful and grateful for the friendship that Mark has given to me these years. He has broadened my views and made me a better person over it all. Thank you Mark, for being you and reminding me of the person I should want to be. Well without liking boys. I'm afraid you're on your own on that one buddy. Have fun in Alaska, be safe, and be sure to never forget us.

For the record when I say don't forget us, I mean his friends, not that one time we hooked up. I would very much like it if you WOULD forget that Mark.

ATTENTION ROMMMATES

I wanna keep this little thing.

Last night when I came home from seeing Zombieland with Dean (really, REALLY fun movie.) this little kitty came running up to my door as if she belonged there and we had accidentally let her outside. She was all sorts of adorable, and truth be told I have a weakness for stray animals dating back to when I was a kid. So I petted her a little bit, talked to her, and I was mostly just her friend. She didn't seem to have many of those, and she was really outgoing and nice too.

Unfortunately I know that I have four roommates, and the only one I think would let me keep said cat would be Mark and that simply isn't enough to carry weight to let her stay so I tried to leave her outside and go inside. She had none of that. Once I opened the screen door she darted inside and waited patiently for me to open the final door into my house. It was late, around 11 so I knew no one was going to be up, but I still argued with myself about if I should let her in or not. Surely she could stay in my room all night and no one would be the wiser. I just had to make sure I closed all the doors. But I knew if I let the kitty spend the night, I would undoubtedly become attached and one night would turn into forever. It was bound to happen.

I debated for a good 30 minutes. Of course during these 30 minutes Miss kitty was purring and rubbing up against me, climbing onto my legs, crawling under my legs, cuddling up next to me, and then the absolute last straw of cuteness that I could take no more of, she jumped onto my shoulder not unlike a parrot to a pirate, and proceeded to lick my face and then fall asleep.

I think I am the only person who enjoys a cat's sandpaper tongue. I absolutely had to bring her inside. And so I picked her up (when I tried to stand up she woke and jumped to the ground.) and into my room she went. I closed my closet door because I wanted to make sure I could find her in the morning and my closet is a disaster. I updated my twitter status, and let her get situated in my room. After a little bit of investigating she laid down on my bed and went to sleep. I decided it was late and that was a wonderful idea so I also went to sleep. It wasn't the most comfortable night of sleep admittedly, but I think it was one of the most I've enjoyed sleeping since my cat Sable died when I moved to Seattle. I woke up several times throughout the night, each time I looked to find where she had gotten off to (I didn't name the cat, I knew that would be the end all be all of attachment) and then as if she knew I wasn't comfortable she relocated herself so I could perhaps sleep more soundly. This happened no less than 6 times. My favorite was when she decided that sleeping on my shoulder/face was a good place to get comfy. Thankfully this position didn't last long but still hearing her purr next to my face was one of my favorite moments of the night.

True to my word I had to put her back outside moments ago. I could tell she knew it was time to go, because she started to get restless and making noise. It was vaguely reminiscent of when you accidentally pass out watching a movie at a girl's house and you wake up on their sofa realizing you shouldn't be there, and you try to leave before their roommates can see you.

I am not going to lie and say I won't be doing this again, because it's only gonna get colder at night and she was super tiny so if I see her again late at night chances are she's coming inside again. I just hope next time I will get to keep her.

He is not that Dramatic

This post goes out to Mark.




This is from the new TV show "Modern Family" on ABC. WATCH IT!

I forgot

I had forgotten just how much I enjoyed feeling needed, especially in regards to the church. Let me back up a little bit. When I first started attending committee meetings for the institute here in Seattle it wasn't just for the breakfast. Sure getting fed was good, but I truly loved helping out as much as I could and this gave me the opportunity to do just that. Early on my skills and talents in Graphic Design were noticed by my peers and as a result my niche was found. I began designing posters, handouts, little things like that in my spare time. I truly loved doing this as it gave me a chance to hone my skills and actually be useful in what I was doing. Adam loved using me for these things the most. He was always asking me from across the hall if I would design something for Understanding Mormonism for him or an ad for the Daily. It was a fun working environment and I was always happy to help.

Then my computer broke. I became lazy when it came to fixing it, and as a result I lost my place. Soon institute committees just became Friday breakfast for me, as I would show up, sit silently, help as little as possible, make a few sarcastic jokes, and then eat. Through this I then started becoming more avoiding when it came to actual church. I started being more willing to work more on Sundays. I didn't home teach, at all. My world became a little darker and frustrating place. I won't blame all this on my computer as these things have always been a part of my mind and personality, it's just the more I felt I wasn't contributing, the more I also found myself thinking that no one would miss me if I wasn't there, even once my computer was fixed I avoided making posters or helping out simply because I had decided it wasn't worth my time anymore.

This year however a dear friend of mine is the Institute President, and Brother Knowles and he went out of their way to ask me to design some posters for the upcoming quarter. Knowing that Jon had the ability to make these himself, it really meant a lot to me that he would still chose to come to me and ask me to do it. And so I started designing again. At first it was frustrating and my perfectionist side came out again, but I pressed on and remembered that perfection isn't possible, I created four posters that will be hanging around the institute for awhile. It felt really good to be able to say without a shadow of doubt that I belong and that I am contributing to something that is a great cause. I have felt so much better about myself since I started designing again. It has encouraged me to improve myself in other areas as well. I am walking home from work again, and in the near future I will be learning some Yoga as well, thanks to Dean.

I won't want to say this is all because of designing some silly posters that don't really matter all that much in the long run, but that is definitely a part of it. Those posters help remind me that I am a part of a greater entity and that it is up to me to do my part. I must be a working cog if the watch is expected to keep working. I am planning on attending at least one institute class this quarter besides committees. It won't be the same as my epic seven class quarter of 2 years ago, but it's a start.

Oh just because I know some of you won't ever see the posters actually hanging up at the institute, and because I love blatant self promotion, here are the 4 posters I designed. Please do tell me what you think, good or bad. I respect your thoughts and I can't get better if I don't get feedback.