Ask Me Where I've Been

I once saw a quote that I'll never forget. It said, "Stories are for those late nights when you can't remember how you got from where you were to are." I haven't really thought about it lately, but last weekend two of my best college friends came to visit me in the city and we went to a Giant's game. We ended up getting into a conversation that made me reflect on how I got from where I was to where I am.

We were reminiscing about a few of the many late nights we spent traipsing around downtown Chico, bar hopping from The Bear to Panamas to Joes, chatting, dancing and enjoying life as young 20- somethings. Some of my fondest memories from college are the summers in northern California, where the temperature doesn't drop below 80 degrees and the whole world seems to stop for a few hours so you can enjoy the time you have a college kid--living young and wild and free (yes, I did just quote Snoop Dogg. Don't act surprised.)

We won!

One of the evenings we couldn't help but laugh about was my 24th birthday. It was the night before I graduated with my bachelors and Sarah (Best), Meghan and Sarah (Mann) took me out to Spice Creek for a little celebration before we headed out on the town. It was one of my favorite nights, mostly because it ended with Sarah (Best) barefoot in 7-11 claiming that her shoes were stuck on her hands (which, they kind of were) and us almost being lured into a mysterious cab with promises of smoking weed with some guys Sarah (Mann) swore were in one of her freshman English classes (they weren't).

The infamous birthday evening. Happy 24th to me!

As our laughter subsided, both Meghan and Sarah noted how much things had changed since those days. Not only because they are both now in serious relationships, but also because when I moved to San Francisco, I made the decision to start over in a lot of ways. I did an incredible amount of soul searching during my years living in the 530--I learned more about myself than I believe I could have had I stayed at a church school.

Sarah (Mann) Nikki and I before a night out in Aix

I needed those years to let a few things play themselves out. I needed those years to test my boundaries. I needed those years to become friends with people who were incredibly different than me. I needed those years to make sure I had no regrets later.

I had a Bishop in a ward when I was living in Davis who said something during Sunday school I will never forget. He said it off-handedly, but it stuck with me. He said this: some people have to touch the stove to know it's hot. I never thought of myself as that kind of a person, but as I reflect back on my wonderful time in Chico, I touched the stove many, many times.

Sarah (Best) and I the summer before I left for La France

So, what did I learn from all of this? That I am happiest when I am living in accordance with what I know is right. A wise friend once told me, "well, you know you're happiest when you're keeping the commandments, so, go with that." That, too, was something said off-handedly, but it has come to my mind often since he said it.

I also think (for people who need it) a little time off the beaten track gives you the wisdom and insight to make better choices, later. It can give you compassion and empathy you might not ordinarily have had for those who, to others, may seem lost.

I think it can be easy for those who haven't spend any time wandering to think, "well, if I can do it, why can't they?" but it's just not that simple. We are all so different, which is the beauty of life here on earth. We have the ability to be there for one another through times of hardship--whether self-inflicted or not, and lend a listening ear, a helping hand or a well-shaped shoulder.

I am grateful for the time I spend finding my way. It made me appreciate the light that the gospel brings into my life and helped me gain the knowledge I so desperately needed to carry on.

I couldn't end this post without a giving a shout-out to my wonderful, wonderful ward here in SF. For those of you wondering, a ward is Mormon lingo for congregation (based on a geographic boundary) that members are assigned to be in. The ward I attend is made of up young single adults ages 18-31 and I love them all so, so dearly. We have the most wonderful teachers, incredibly faithful leaders and ridiculously good looking (not to mention patient and kind) elder's quorum ever.

xoxo

Adventure Time and Other Friday Night Festivities

Being an adult is hard.

If you know me well, you know the adjustment from spunky college co-ed to stellar young professional has been...bumpy. I've spent a fairly significant amount of time over the last 13 months seriously questioning my decision to apply for graduation, but as I rounded my 25th birthday in May, things started to change.

I started to get a routine down. I started to know what to do at least 80% of the time. I started chatting with people at church after sacrament meeting.

And so the shift began.

I can't quite pinpoint when it happened, but I think it was somewhere in between regularly doing my visiting teaching (love you Paola) and joining my now besties in the ward for weekly run club at Nike Town that I finally started to feel like San Francisco was home, and it was the place I needed to be.

Getting my job here happened so fast last summer that I barely had time to consider if this was the plan for me--I just kind of did it (which is SO what I do).

Act first, think later. It's something I'm working on.

Needless to say, my weekends have been absolute insanity ever since I decided to start talking to people. I have totally embraced the social me that once was, and have been forming friendships with those in the ward that will likely last a lifetime.

That said, last night was one of my favorite nights of the summer. Not only was it spent with some of the best people I know, but it was just the relaxing Friday night I so desperately needed after weeks and weeks of madness in all aspects of my life.

I have this bestie in the ward, Kirsten, who I have increasingly been spending my time with. She is the free-spirited vagabond I aspire to be, as well as a constant voice of reason when it comes to advice on dating and relationships. She is also the one who introduced me to the show for which this post is titled: Adventure Time.

But lemme back up for a hot second. Kirsten hasn't always been the Adventure Time guru that stands before us today. She too, had to be inducted into the AT fan club, via two fabulous boys in the ward who have loved the show for a while. After she fell in love, she passed the delight onto me and now we  are official fans.

The basic premise of the show is a boy and his magical dog that have adventures. As with most cartoons, there's a lot more than meets the eye, and as a adult you can sometimes see the plot lines parallel real-life issues, like feelings of jealousy, overcoming fear, loyalty to friends and disdain for physical contact.

Finn and Jake (boy and dog) also live in a candy kingdom, which makes for some interesting characters and friends, such as Princess Bubblegum, Cinnamon Bun and Dr. Ice Cream. I have a few favorites and a few not-so-favorites.

Kirsten's amazing Finn cupcakes!

So, back to last night. We decided that after a long, long week we needed to just sit around, eat food and watch cartoons. I'm going to be real, that's an ideal Friday night for me when I am in the mood for rejuvenation. So,  after work, Kirsten and I hopped into the car and headed over to the boys' house for the evening to begin.

After grabbing some amazing Mexican food (always a favorite of mine), we settled in for a few hours of the land of Ooo, cracking up at Finn and Jake as they conquered the universe, one Hug-a-Wolf at a time.

As I dropped Kirsten off at home and headed back to my abode, I reflected on how much things have changed in the last five months. I thought about how comfortable I am with the city, how natural living here feels and what an excellent opportunity the last year has been to grow in ways I didn't even think needed work.

As I pulled into my garage, climbed the stairs and collapsed into bed, I couldn't help but be excited for Saturday to come, as it was sure to be filled with...adventure.

xoxo

Summers in SF: A Love Story

...and by love I basically mean hate.

There I was, standing on the corner of foggy and freezing waiting for my horse-drawn carriage  muni to swoop me up and cart me off to work the other Wednesday morning, (which I had so ridiculously deemed "no jacket Wednesday." Sometimes I seriously question my judgement) and I had goosebumps literally all over my arms and legs.

I was wearing my fabulous turquoise Ralph Lauren boyfriend shirt dress that I always get compliments on, and unfortunately had missed the most recent street car, which at 7:45 am meant I was in for a good 15 min wait.

For most of my life, a September morning meant shorts, a t-shirt with maybe a light sweater, and flip flops. Since I spent my growing up years in a climate that got above 105 on the daily during the summer, I have always been a bit hesitant to don a jacket and scarf during the sacred months of May-September.

San Francisco is quite another story, however. I love, love, love living here, but some days I think if my legs are freezing for a single second longer I will literally scream.

There is, however, a light at the end of the tunnel: September.

Well, so I am told.

The city by the bay is well known by the natives for having an "indian summer," meaning that a heat wave hits during the fall months.

Having this sacred knowledge, some gals pals in the ward and I were having dinner one Sunday night and decided to have a fall kick off party.

But wait.

Summer in SF hadn't happened yet! How could we bob for apples and carve pumpkins when we had barely been to the beach!? Blasphemy.

So, what did we decide to do? Throw an SF summer party, duh.

And we did exactly that! We chose the theme of The Hamptons (of course suggested by me. You know a girl has dreams of being invited to P-Diddy's white party in Southampton someday. It's going to happen. You just wait.)

People were invited to wear their equestrian best--with polos, nautical stripes and anything argyle.

It was a huge success.

xoxo

OMG: Glee Is Totally Back

So, you know how I have a love/hate relationship with Glee, right?

Over the last three seasons, Glee has been a topsy, turvy hot mess of emotion for me.

I love Finnchel, I hate Finnchel.

I think the New Directions deserve to win at any cost. I publicly claim their performance at regionals  was LAME and they deserve to lose.

Basically, I spent the last three seasons walking away from each Glee episode either emotionally elated or desperately deflated. Most of my conflict with the show had to do with the fact that my all-time favorite male lead--sweet, strong Finn-- lost basically all of his sincerity and let's be real, masculinity, by the time the end of season rolled around and I was sorely disappointed.

Thought I was sad, I still decided to give it one last chance and watched the premier of season 4.

Best.Idea.Ever.

Glee is back, big time. With re-occurring guest star Kate Hudson (who I absolutely LOVE as a fellow smiley blonde) playing Rachel's evil dance teacher at NYADA and Marley Rose, played by newcomer Melissa Benoist, who's mom is the lunch lady the entire school is clowning, the conflict, drama and triumph is running rampant again this season.

This week's episode dawned with one Ms. Rachel Berry practicing her high kick at ballet class in New York City and the now seniors holding auditions for Glee club--which is now wildly popular thanks to their win at nationals at the end of last year.

Back in Ohio, I have a few questions, starting with: Where's Mike Chang? Did he go to college? Tina is for def not as cool sans her incredible dancer BF. Bummer. I miss him already.

Also: is Mr. Shue less Shue-yer than usual? Maybe that gingham shirt he was wearing the ENTIRE episode has gone to his head. Or his pants are too tight. Oh wait, that's always been the case. Whatevs.

Also, this just in, who's the hottie Rachel meets in the bathroom in her dorms, can we please see more of him? Can they just date? Okay, great.

Long story short, I am going to branch out on my usual dramatic limb and say this: Glee gives me a perspective on life I sometimes so sorely lack. It helps me get out of my own head and think about the things that really matter--love, acceptance, embracing diversity and show tunes.

xoxo

Ode to A Red Velvet Masterpiece

So, if you've ever met me, it's likely I've told you one (or both) of two things.

I studied abroad in southern France.

...and I am obsessed with cupcakes.

I mean, everyone kind of is. I'm not totally sure when the cupcake craze began, but I'm fairly certain that when Oprah declared Sprinkles was one of her favorite things, these crazy muffins masquerading as a sweet dessert topped the list of trendy must-haves.

Here's the thing about a cupcake. It's always the perfect treat, no matter what.

A ginger lemon cupcake can top off the perfect week as a celebration of the successful completion of five eight to ten hour days.

A german chocolate cupcake can come into your life in the form of a Wednesday afternoon if-I-don't-have-something-that-makes-my-life-worth-living-this-second-I-might-cry pick me up that ensures you the weekend will in fact come--that kind of cupcake is best served with a Diet Coke.

A black and white cupcake can bring together old friends who have had many a conversation about boyfriends, girlfriends, school, work, life, philosophy and the perfect pair of jeans while sitting on a sun-soaked chair in late summer, enjoying the warmth and the trees.

A strawberry cupcake mend a broken heart--no matter who did the breaking and how much time has passed.

A lemon cupcake can and should be enjoyed whilst enjoying major life milestones, such a promotions, engagements, weddings, babies and first dates.

...I think you get the idea. Last, but absolutely farthest from least, is the red velvet cupcake, which can be indulged in at any time, for any reason.

They're like 600 calories of proof that God loves us, and wants us to be happy.

xoxo