Lots to say…no time.
One thought. Parents want to give things to their children. Heavenly Father wants to give me a husband. It probably makes Him as sad as it makes me, if not more sad because He knows that I’m sad to still be single.
All realized while chatting with Candice today. I love inspiration.
It is the end of my first week of school. I can’t believe I’m really doing this. I know I’ve been working toward it for a year, but it’s weird that it’s actually happening. And it’s terrifying. I sit in class and think, “I wonder when people are going to figure out that I’m just a big fake and don’t really deserve to be here.”
Apparently I’m doing a pretty good job of faking it because I somehow managed to get myself put in charge of the opening social for my entire program. As of right now, 343 people are attending…and that’s just the people who actually responded. We’re expecting about 450. And the funny thing is, it looks as if I might have pulled it off. The truth is, though, I did next to nothing. I delegated to a great team of people.
You want to know what else I’m faking. I’m pretending that I’m a person who makes her bed everyday. I’m pretending that I’m a person who gets up and goes to the gym at 4:45 am and is at school by 7 even though her first class isn’t until 9:30. I’m pretending that I’m not completely insecure in the presence of so many amazing people. I’m pretending that I’m someone who does her hair and makeup every single day.
I’m also pretending that I don’t care that there are so many amazing, talented, beautiful, and intelligent women in my program and that I feel like the redheaded stepchild (it’s just a saying…most redheads I know are intimidatingly beautiful). I’m pretending that I’m someone who is two days ahead in her homework and always prepared for class. And finally, and most uncharacteristically, I’m pretending that I’m someone who budgets her money, only eats out once a week, and enjoys her homemade lunch. Weird. I didn’t even know I was capable of faking any of those things.
It’s been a weird week. I’m a little nervous to see what happens next. What if I start pretending that I’m someone who folds her laundry right when it comes out of the dryer?
If hell freezes over, you’ll know why.
“I was looking for a Hallmark ecard to send you good luck and best wishes as you start this semester, but apparently I need to update my flash player or some other such blah blah blah. So pretend this email has a jaunty little message with some humor and then a tear-jerk ending–because that’s the kind of quality ecard I go for. I love you and know you will be great. Don’t let it kick your trash–you are stronger than anything that school can throw at you.
So, I had my first “party” of the new school year tonight. Oh, and I had my first leadership role in the MBA program today. I am the committee chair of the opening social. I found out about this on Thursday night, and since I was going to be out of town, and today was Labor day, I needed a plan.
The brilliant idea: have a group g-chat this morning. It went so well. Seriously. I was a little nervous about the whole thing, but I delegated and we all took on our part and, voila, the party is planned. I am so pleased with how things went. And really, I could use a leadership role, so I’m going to take them as I can.
And then tonight was our Mafia party. I didn’t actually plan this one, but it was great. We had about 30 people (including kids) and it was really great. Seriously, it went off without a hitch.
So, I definitely have a little crush on Brian Henderson. Very, very, very little. I’m pretty sure he has zero interest in me, other than maybe trying to make himself feel better by proving that he’s a nice guy, since Debbie doesn’t like him so much. Anyway. He showed up late with Matt Frances, Adam, and Richard…the boys whose house I used to clean. Anyway, it was nice to see him. And he gave me the little side hug.
Here’s the lamest thing ever. I think Danielle might thing that I’m interested and I feel like I’m back in high school again. Like now she will be interested in him. So ridiculous. Especially since it bugs me. The difference is (I hope) that I have a much healthier sense of self and that things work out as they should. No need to force it. Although I do want to learn how to act interested…maybe.
Finally, I’m feeling really good about the things I need to work on and the fact that I need to work on them. I reading this great book (and the scriptures) and I’m on my prayers these days. It really does make a difference. Really and truly.
Okay, bedtime it is. I’m going to try for the early morning thing manana. We’ll see how it goes.
I am from Walnut Creek. As I have had to introduce myself many, many, many times throughout the last two weeks, that has come up a lot. I haven’t lived there in over eight years, but that is home, for now. Maybe someday I will think of somewhere else as home, but not today. So, for posterity, a walk down memory lane (I visited this summer)…
The view as you drive into my hometown from San Francisco/Oakland (on the 24). That’s Mt. Diablo in the background (pronounced like a non-Spanish speaker would say it).
This is downtown…the sign in the middle says “The Ballet School”. This is where I took my first dance class.
Il Fornaio. A favorite. Along with the H&M on the left, that you can’t see and wasn’t there when I was growing up, but I think it makes a nice addition. The shopping and dining options in downtown Walnut Creek are fantastic.
The fountain at Broadway Plaza.
Yogurt Park…oh how I love thee.
One of my favorite little alleys in the world. It reminds me of Europe. Only cleaner.
My house…the one I grew up in from 0 – 18. The new owners have changed some things in front, but it’s still my house…with my favorite pomegranate tree. How lucky were we on the far right?
The backyard. It’s too bad the new owners ruined it with a fence. The pool, when you get there, was so pretty as the focal point. Now it’s surrounded by an ugly, wooden fence. Why not wrought iron, I ask you?
My high school. Doesn’t it kind of look like a prison? Well, the cement part?
The cemetery where my mom is buried. It’s absolutely beautiful. (Technically, I think it’s in Pleasant Hill.)
It was her birthday when I was there, so I took some flowers and a balloon.
And the big house my dad built after my mom died and we all moved in with him (well, during the summer anyway). It’s funny. It’s a beautiful house and has a great setup and yard for parties, but I would take the little thrasher house (trust me, it was at the time) I grew up in any day of the week.
And views of my city and the hills.
existential dilemmas 
