I'm Outré

I've been really trying to get into journaling, but I find myself extremely fake in every entry. It starts as just a simple jotting down of things that have happened, and then I turn super serious, like CNN news during elections serious, and then it turns all emotional, and it's like: "Blessings!" Blaaaaaahh. Anyways, I'm not charming or funny via journal… Actually I'm really not that charming via any sort of medium (insert: every conversation I have). For some reason, 50 years down the road, when my granddaughter is reading my journal, because she's super righteous and loves family history, I want her to remember that her great G-ma Kels actually had a sense of humour. I want to be that cool grandma!

So tonight I sat down, and I imagined this future granddaughter of mine reading my story of me and Noah, and how he built this house for me that had blue shutters, and read to me everyday our story about our undying love… wait, what? But really, I tried to be funny, and I sounded like I was doing a stand up comedy routine.

So then I put the pencil down, and I realized that I'm being a little bit neurotic about this. Rather than imagining the plot to a really sad grandma-granddaughter movie plot where she visits me everyday because I'm super cool, but then I have to die at the end, because for some reason that's always necessary (?!), instead I acted like a normal person. I simply wrote about my day.

Dear Diary,

Today I tried to high five with someone at church, and it didn't go very well. Afterwards, it slipped out during sunday school that I happened to have put mascara on Scott's moustache the other day. And yes, it is a lot thicker than you think. We had the home teachers over, I napped for two hours, then when I woke up my bangs were all curly, and I had an uncanny likeness to Carey Mulligan in Pride and Prejudice before she was smoking hot and instead looked scraggly all the time. Finally, around dinner time I watched Scott mistake a pita for a tortilla, desperately trying to separate the pita in two so he could make a quesadilla… I know, I don't get it either.

Have a great night.

Sincerely,
G-Ma Kelsey


Also, here is a picture of Carey Mulligan in case this is the future and no one understands my popular culture references.

That Time I Became Too Cool for Eight Dollar Jeans

This year I'm not playing on any kind of sports team. I was elated at the idea initially, but now I find myself incredibly bored and inactive. Scott plays on a volleyball team that I found on kijiji. Seriously, what can't you find on that place? I had the idea after I watched that one documentary where that guys lives off craigslist for a month that I can't remember the name of... yep. Anyways, tangent, I have become hyper-competitive with everything, and I'm blaming it on the fact that I have no outlet at the moment. 

The other day Scott was studying, I was studying, and I had the tremendous idea to duel it out via Monopoly Deal. For those who have not played this game, it is highly addictive. To make a long story short, I beat Scott five times in a row. I was floating with happiness. I had gotten my fill of competition and could now effectively study. That night while we were going to bed Scott let it slip that he had let me win a few times. Based on his face I knew he wasn't lying, and in a fit of anger I found myself saying in all seriousness, "You wanna play?! Come at me bro!" And that was the moment I realized I needed to be done with Monopoly Deal for a while... 

So I started out with that story to give you an idea of my hyper-competition at the moment, but this has gotten to actually be a problem for me. Let me use another story to explain why.

On Saturday I woke up and decided I needed new jeans. I didn't care what they would cost, I'd even go into my students loans to have them if I had to. I told Scott of my huge need and he took a look at my closet, which contains more pairs of jeans than I would like to acknowledge and asked quizzically, "But... Why?" I told him it was a stress relief and would make me feel better. He simply nodded his head and followed me out to the mall. While we were there my eyes peered for all of the right brands. We went to some stores I knew we couldn't afford and I longed for the cute jeans. Knowing Scott absolutely despises "brand slaves" I resisted the urge and decided I would get something a little cheaper. I walked by stores that I used to love because they just "weren't good enough", or "not good enough quality". I couldn't find anything I liked and the guilt of spending so much money was starting to get to me, but it was like there was a voice in my head telling me I couldn't settle for something "cheap". Finally, after all hope seemed to be lost, Scott pulled me into Forever 21 and pointed out that there were jeans for $8. Eight dollhairs! I can't remember the last time I saw jeans for that cheap. I refused. I was not going to try on jeans that only cost 8 dollars. Scott encouraged me, and what do you know I loved them. As I went up to the cash register I remember being embarrassed that the girl putting me through would think less of me. I was embarrassed for saving a buck.

Ever since that event I have been disgusted with myself. When did I become a slave to consumerism? More and more I keep seeing people buying things they can't afford, and have looked back to realize I have fallen into that category. I look at families with one income, and probably just an average one at that, and wonder how these moms and dad's can afford to buy that certain pair of pants, or shop at that store. I see babies in brand name clothes and I think, don't they just poop in that? Now, don't get me wrong, I believe that we should feel good about how we look, but where is the limit? I read a really interesting psychological study that people's minds have evolved to believe that assets=wealth, even if that person has substantial debt. That basically means that even if the person is thousands of dollars in debt, if they have a nice house, nice clothes, and a nice car they're rich.  

When my parents were newly married, and my dad was going to school, they had two little girls and both worked. My mother had two jobs, my dad had one job and was a full time student, and everyday would drop their kids off at a daycare to make sure they had enough to live. My parents knew what hard work was, and because of that, many years later, their hard work has paid off to living comfortably. My parents are not wealthy, but they are very comfortable. They don't have a huge house, and when I ask why they don't build their dream house, the simple answer from my mother is that she doesn't need it, nor does she need any kind of debt. (Side note: these are the parents that used to, for family home evening, make me go over everything we had spent money on that month and mark whether it was a want or a need...) I am in awe of that, and when I look at myself all I can wait for is to have my dream house, with my dream husband, and not work for the rest of my life. 

So why am I like this? I have two theories:

1.) I have to compete against everyone, even people I love. I have to feel like I look better, richer (even though we all know that's not true), and to hide from them the fact that Scott and I do struggle.

2.) As a generation, we have become obsessed with ourselves. We love ourselves above anyone else, and for that reason have become obsessed with our appearance. Look at every social network, and how often people portray how they really feel. Rather than enjoying my life in privacy, I have to exploit every happy moment just to simply show it off.

With that I've decided that I'm going to be more realistic. I'm going to actually acknowledge my insecurities rather than hide them behind things. I'm going to let Scott dress like a scrub, and I'm going to wear cheap jeans, because in reality the only people that really care about those things is myself, and people who share this similar self-obsession.

Let me just say, I'm grateful Scott has this whole "minimal living" thing figured out. 

Anyways, here's a cute picture of Scott, because what's a blog post without a picture?

One of Those Apologetic Summer Posts

I haven't posted in a long time, I'm sorry!

Throughout the summer I've sat down, looked at my computer screen, written a sentence or two, then out of boredom of myself shut the computer and walked off. I've actually written quite a bit of things this summer, but it never seems quite right when I go to send it off to space. In all honesty this summer has been slow, quiet, and interesting all at the same time. I've been unbelievably busy, yet very still. That's been one of my favourite things about married life. I feel like in times of busy-ness, it's for things that matter. Single life is full of so much mundane quickness, that I always felt busy over nothing. It's nice to do what matters, then come home to a spouse to relax. People always joke about watching way too much netflix when you get married, or that you become boring. In all honesty, I love being boring! It's so nice to go to bed early because the person I would normally stay up late to talk to is right beside me. No matter what, at the end of my day I have a time to just reflect on my life. That never happened when I was single. I was so obsessed with the image of myself that I didn't ever just sit and think about what I really was.

No one told me that when you get married life suddenly becomes one giant observation of yourself. To say I've learned a bit is an understatement, yet every time I go to write something about marriage it feels unnatural. I'm married now, so it's time for gush and mush and all that good stuff, right? In all honesty, marriage has been the best decision for the two of us, but the hardest change for me. Day after day I see the person I was and try to move away from it, and it's really, really hard. It's hard to go from being consumed by your own self to suddenly thinking about another person in all decisions. It's hard to be selfish, and then switch to selfless. Luckily I have a lot of time to practice, and a spouse who comes naturally to selflessness. I remember after a month of being married arguing over something really dumb. Scott left to go do some bank stuff, and while he was gone I was brooding over what I had said, and realizing what I really felt. I have realized one thing so far that has been invaluable: more often than not, when I am unhappy, it is because of my own doing. I realized how selfish I had been and set out to do something nice for Scott. I showered, got dressed, and was ready to take Scott out for lunch when he walks in with flowers and a picnic. I laugh now over how ridiculous my next sentence was, "Scott, what are you doing?! I was going to do something nice for you! You beat me to it!"(as said in my most exasperated voice)

Scott and I have been really lucky all summer. We're attempting (emphasis on attempting) to live debt free while we go to school, and have been blessed like I can't believe. It's like as soon as we got married, the universe decided we deserved some great things. I guess it was the right choice then, eh? We've worked all summer up at Waterton serving, have found a great apartment for school, and have gone on two great trips to Hawaii and Atlanta. If that's not lucky I don't know what is. Someday when I'm feeling less preachy, and more share-y, I'll tell you guys all about the trips. For now though, some pictures are just going to have to suffice!

so miserable... haha. #hateheat

ate waaaaaay too much big scoop.

we love U of A!

Bears Hump before work.

 And now, some of our Atlanta trip (of which I took few pictures... unless it was food)

Atlanta temple!

deep fried apple pie. #nowords

Georgia aquarium!

nachooooo!

Goodbye, and may we see you soon, Southern Alberta!