We’ve been living out of boxes. Our mandatory move-out is May, we thought. Or maybe it’s August. No, December. Drawers of extra journals lie in cardboard under the bed, the desk, the hutch. German books I can’t throw away. Thrift store milk glasses. Colored pencils. Just a couch and boxes. We leave work and drive around the city until we’re ready to face home.
After two days in a row taking five hour naps, I ask “What’s wrong with us?”
“Maybe we have mono,” he says.
We drive past our new apartment measuring the patio and asking each other if we’ll put up a Christmas tree this year.
Ten years of pictures gone. Ten years of writings gone. Ten years of saved conversations, written out voicemails. Ten years of my overly documented life gone.
Today was the first time in the past month that I had 30 minutes to stop and do nothing. And that’s what I’m thinking about.
I want to rip myself out of this body and run away from myself. I just hate myself right now. I hate me. I hate, I hate, I hate. I hate this because it is so me to do this. It is so Anne. It’s when I’m stressed out of my mind that I do things like this. Where a blurry wall boxes me in and I can’t think straight, I just move. A to B.
I think barfing would do the job too.
I don’t know why I’m writing this or to whom. I just want it here. I just need it documented that
This is my bedroom. I am STOKED. Each year we ask for something for our bedroom and this year it’s almost Pinterest-able!
The first attempt of a cute bedroom was when I asked for a white king-size duvet. It looked okay with our queen-sized comforter for a year. The next year we got a king size comforter for Christmas. That helped.
This year I asked my mom for these velvet pillows and black and white pillow cases from Urban Outfitters. I would never buy such expensive pillow cases if they weren’t a gift request. But I’m super pleased with them.
We got grey pillowcases from IKEA for the other pillows and the grey blanket from Target.
The headboard came from Pottery Barn, I think. It was my cousin, Lindsay’s, who had painted the headboard black. Every pin on my Pinterest board doesn’t have a headboard. I get that it’s a thing. I get the Scandinavians like that. I just can’t yet. No. I can’t.
The bedside tables are IKEA hacks, people! I did a house DIY this year.
We bought the bedside knobs from Anthropologie.
Spencer bought me the candle on my bedside table from Anthropologie.
The lamps are from IKEA.
Here’s the inspiration from my Pinterest boards (click on images for source).
I am thrilled to have started @mywanderplan, because I can now just write on my blog. I’ve been struggling with turning this blog into a business-type thing, where I sometimes ramble, and other times write legit posts that I hope to make money on. Now I can just talk, and do businessy stuff elsewhere.
I’ve been trying to be a minimalist for over a year now. According to the fad on Pinterest, it means always looking fashionable with the simplest of clothes. Or having a perfect house with lots of negative spaces. Being simple and looking HAWT.
This was appealing to me because I kept buying a crazy colorful shirt, loving it for two weeks, and then realizing that people were noticing how often I wore it. This included:
1. My bright pink raincoat with hearts (hand-me-down from theveryhappypear)
2. Mustard yellow and teal scarves
3. My light green pants from Anthro
I went through my closet and threw bags and bags of clothes away. I stuck to a pallet (light pink + maroon + light blue).
What finally made me commit to this whole shishkebab was when I lost my scriptures in Yellowstone. All of my markings since I was thirteen! My middle school notes that said “Lauren needs to hear this” or “this made me cry” or my notes from lessons with Spencer! I’d taught the Old Testament, the New Testament, and the Book of Mormon with those scriptures! I had written
It was the most amazing sunrise today. Winnie ran up and down hills at the park while I sat on the bench. Everything was orange. I was a living sepia filter. Each minute the orange turned lighter. I looked at Winnie, and back at the sky. It was already gone.
It’s been almost a year since my little brother tried committing suicide. He is alive. He’s had funny, wonderful experiences since then. I don’t know what his mind is doing, but he is alive.
This was an unpublished post from our mini trip to Moab with Spencer’s family last May.
Spencer and his family have always loved Lake Powell and usually spend long weekends there. My family always went to Moab growing up.
It was fun to be with Spencer, because he never really has been there. He said once, but he couldn’t remember much.
We hiked up to Delicate Arch, which is a must-hike for Utahns, especially. Delicate Arch is the arch on our license plates.
Our first morning we went to Fisher Towers and got lost. We couldn’t find the right trail. It’s one of my favorite memories hiking this with my cousin, Ambryn and our family. Ambryn and I hiked this and always tried to get in front of each other. When we realized what we both were doing, we just laughed. We have always been a little competitive with each other, especially when we were both younger and played soccer. She was always the brave one, though, and I always felt like I needed to stick with her for that reason. And because she’s fun, but whatever.
It was my first time doing two hikes, though: the Fiery Furnace–you need a permit for this one–and Grand Staff (formerly known as “Negro Bill” and was recently changed for obvious reasons).
Grand Staff will be a must for all future Moab trips and I will do Fiery Furnace over and over when we get the chance.
While friends lay off the Big Gulps, gyms exceeding maximum occupancy, and co-workers order standing desks, I have a list of things I am not doing. I am not taking local transportation to work. I am not off Dr. Pepper. I am not reading my scriptures daily. I am not watching less Breaking Bad. I am not getting any skinnier.
I did buy myself a $200 pair of headphones.
It’s January. So I’m doing weird stuff, like listening to Taylor Swift’s new album, Reputation and going, “Yes, Taylor. The drama does love me. I haven’t done anything wrong in my life. I am a spoiled white girl, but I’m an innocent spoiled white girl. Yes, Taylor!” And suddenly I’m turning off the music and making my own Swiftesque song about a boy who broke up with me on Myspace in, what?, like 2006? What was that dude’s name?
Something weird happens in January.
And it’s not time to make resolutions. It’s time to mope around feeling sorry for yourself, drink Dr. Pepper, put your hair up in a greasy bun and hide your misery with plum lipstick. Oh, and buy $200 headphones.
Good luck at the gym. If you want support, buy me some Banbury Cross donuts and a camping chair. I’ll come watch.
i have a new job. miss my friends at the gsc. two years in one place and moving to different teams makes you get to know so many awesome people. i hated saying goodbye.
speaking german every day for two full years. it was wonderful. but i am extremely concern for one brother in leipzig who may completely freak out when he realizes i am gone. he tends to stick to one person. i hope he’ll be okay. i should have written him a letter to ease him into the change. but i needed to worry about my own changes.
my team at the gsc was all international. for a lot of my time, i was the only american, or the only white person. in the middle of utah, i found this little building with so much diversity, but who all believes in god, jesus christ, the holy ghost, priesthood blessings, miracles, and this crazy spiritual power in the book of mormon. how funny the world is.
i’ve moved to a job (outside of the Church) with better pay and better opportunities for growth, but it means no more german.
i finished my first week at my new job. there are people who have MFAs and encourage others to get MFAs. my team introduced themselves to me with the question, “if you didn’t have to sleep, what would you do with your spare time?” 90% of the room said they would write.
and no one looked at them like they were funny.
on the second day of my job, my project manager told me we’d be flying to new york city for a design workshop with one of our clients.
i am going to new york city.
what else? wanna hear about wanderplan?
i finished planning a three-week trip for two clients going to London, Rome, and Paris. it was the hardest i’ve worked on anything since school. it was amazing and treacherous and amazing. each day i get updates on how they’re doing–them in front of the colosseum, in front of big ben, and i know exactly what tube and what streets they walked on to get there.
i’m working on the website. my goal is for it to be up and running by the end of the year.
my brother, maxwell, is getting surgery in both of his eyes. he has a genetic disorder called FEVR, which is like, this creepy thing where blood vessels or whatever are, like, making holes in his retina. it’s so rare that the eye doctor has been traveling throughout the U.S. to all these FEVR specialists to figure out what the heck to do.
since it’s a genetic disorder, the doctor wants to see all of us and make sure we’re not all some fringe event.
i thoroughly enjoy my brother, so please pray for him, won’t you?
i’ve been on anxiety meds since 2015. it’s been a game changer. there’s pros and cons. i think i don’t write on my blog as much because i’m not really fretting, and not really needing to “get things out.”
but the pros are that i feel sane. my brain is calm. and that’s good.
spencer meditates everyday. he’s been doing it for over a year. he is super impressive.
my doctor said he thinks we should up my dose of anti-depressants. i said no, let me me try working out again for the next three months. he said it was a deal. i know i’m more depressed because of my weight. i’m almost at 155 pounds. most of my life i’ve been at 130. that’s still normal for my height, but it’s strange how this mass is poking out of my stomach. it’s not evened out throughout my body, or anything. it’s just poking out. and i can’t stop playing with it. i sit on the couch and just poke at this mass. poke. poke.
i started gaining when i graduated from school. more money, more food, more work, more sitting.
spencer’s work schedule is seriously the most terrible thing ever. we never see each other. and when we do, one of us is exhausted, and the other one is ready to play. it sucks, sucks, sucks.
i miss my grandparents. they’ve been gone for almost a year in canada.
i lost my harddrive. i will not go into detail about what that means. but it’s huge. and i have spent many days bawling in my closet about it. have to move on, though, or i go into a hole thinking about it. let’s just say my whole life was on that damn thing. ugggg. move on, move on.
okay, what else? i think that’s it. i’m swimming through my brain and can’t find anything else to talk about. so that’s it for now. goodnight.