I didn't jump on the bandwagon.... I got ran over by it.

I've decided that my big mouth gets me in a lot of trouble. I think (or maybe, desperately, HOPE) I have officially learned to never again say: "I will never..."

Wow, that sentence was sort of circular and redundant. It reminds me of Fievel Goes West when he and the seagull sing the "never say never" song together. Or was that in An American Tail? What the hell kind of name is Fievel, anyway?!

I am easily distractable these days... in case you didn't notice.

While I know my list of "Things I Swore I Would Never Do, But Somehow Ended Up Doing," is probably extremely long (and includes two of my biggest life decisions: going to "Utah Valley State High School" and BYU...), my most recent stunt has me vacillating from giggle fits to major crying episodes on a regular basis.

That's right folks. I'm pregnant.

And not just pregnant, but due in TEN DAYS. If that isn't enough to scare the living shit out of you, I don't know what is.

I recently discovered this picture I posted on facebook almost a year ago along with it's caption:

"No, I'm not having one anytime soon, people!"

I probably should have inserted my foot directly into my mouth afterwards. Within three months, I was indeed knocked up and (sarcastically) loving life.

Would you like some proof? Take a look at this un-published blog post (via letter to the Divine) I wrote just three days after I found out about my "miracle":

Dear God,

What in the world were you thinking? When I left something this big up to you, I trusted you. Instead, here I am KNOCKED UP and hating life. Are you serious?? I mean, I am just barely starting the second year of my graduate program for heavens sakes! I can't be pregnant during this program. It's already hell and you know that! I can barely survive now, how do you expect me to get extremely sick and fat while maintaining the ability to provide good therapy to others and learn more about myself?? I mean, how can I learn about myself when my own body has been hijacked?! I feel like I'm not even myself anymore. I'm myself + it. Ugh. Didn't you know about all my big plans? I'm sure you did. I wanted to explore, to be happy and enjoy life! Now I am stuck with this thing inside of me, living like a parasite and taking up more real estate than Century 21 sells in a year! Stretch marks? No thanks! Pissing in a cup, sticking myself with needles and having people look at my crotch on a regular basis.... You are really just messing with me, right?! You've got to be. You have to know that motherhood is NOT for me. Didn't we both figure that out six years ago? I mean, yeah, eventually I'd like to be mom. EVENTUALLY. What in the world made you choose now? Are you trying to mess up my career? Are you trying to get me to drop out of school and live up to my previous reputation as a screwed up failure? Are you trying to ruin my life??? Because it sure feels like it. My life is over now. No more fun with friends whenever I feel like it. No more roller coasters (at least not the fun kind.) No more sleepovers with my sisters or my school friends. No more hot tubs. No more vacations. No more traveling the world or starting something big to make a difference. No more sleeping in. Ever. How dare you take that away from me. No more relationship with my husband. No more game nights. No more shows. No more camping trips. No more paint balling. No more losing weight. No more yoga. No more money. No more happiness. Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to monotony I go... Dirty diapers, screeching and wailing. That's right. My life is officially over. Thanks a lot.

Sincerely yours,

Savannah

As you can tell, I was full of socially-unacceptable angst (can you see why I left that particular word vomit un-posted until now?) And although I'd like to say I'm now 100% at peace with my current situation, that wouldn't be entirely truthful. The reality is, I'm scared to freaking death.

I'm going to have a freaking baby. While a significant number of women in my cohort meticulously planned their "final semester of grad school" pregnancies, I stood by and laughed. I thought, "what a stupid idea!" Well, I guess the joke is on me. Here I am, minutes away from delivery (ok, so that's just wishful thinking), and still completely freaking out about my future.

Or should I say, OUR future. AHHHHHH! The angst returns!!!

I spent the first few months of my pregnancy in denial. I really felt my life was over, and that was just too much to handle. Although I thought that in these later months I had at least somewhat embraced the fact that I'm sharing my body with another human being, I find I am again becoming reacquainted with my good friend, D.

If I just don't admit how much my life is going to change in a few days, it can't really happen.... right? 

Happy New Year!

My best friend's wedding.

In my attempt to clean out my closet so to speak, I have discovered a lot of precious memories. This one was found in the form of an English 1010 paper written during my first semester at Dixie. I love how much I am entertained by myself... reading this thing seriously cracked. me. up.  And Hillary, if you are reading this, I love you, and I hope none of this offends you... :)

My Best Friend's Wedding

My best friend's wedding. Every time I say those words, I think of Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz fighting for their main. But for me, it just about sums up the end of my summer. Ever since we became friends in high school, Hillary and I have been inseparable. We've shared Cokes, we've shared clothes, we've shared lives.

When she first told me she was getting married, I was ecstatic. I am a sucker for weddings, so the opportunity to go to another was something to look forward to. Her choice of life partners left something to be desired (at least in my eyes), but if she was happy, then I guess I could be too.

As the time grew near, however, I began to grow more and more uneasy about the whole thing. I had dreams about her running away on the big day (hmm, sounds like another Julia Roberts movie to me...) and our other best friend, Gus, also asked me if I thought Hill would really follow through with it.

Maybe a week before the wedding, Hillary herself called me up, worried she might not be doing the right thing. I told her what it would take and the sacrifices she'd be making, but she concluded, "I love Matt. I know I do. I'm sure we'll be fine." I didn't feel too reassured.

Matt just didn't come off as the greatest kid to me. And he was indeed a kid. Nineteen and didn't have a clue what he was doing in life. He smoked, he drank, and he scared me to death when he got pissed off. The fact that he graduated from Job Corps to be a welder for a living, didn't exactly impress me much, either.

The day we went to the bridal shop to try on our bridesmaid dresses, I about flipped. They were the ugliest color of green I had ever seen! Not only that, but they were so tight and restricting, I wasn't sure I'd be able to walk up the aisle in it, much less breathe while trying.

We all giggled about it, and formed a line to help each other zip up the backs. Just our typical girl bonding. We joked that we needed to have one last girls' night before the big day because we would never get the opportunity again.

We set a date, although it didn't turn out to be the old, girly high school sleepover complete with chick flicks and makeovers like we had planned. Instead we went out to eat at the Olive Garden where we stuffed ourselves full of shrimp and pasta. Then we watched "The Wedding Planner" (the bride-to-be falling asleep halfway through it), and went our separate ways.

I didn't think the whole "end of summer, right before school starts" idea was all that hot, and when I got a call from Hillary two days before the wedding saying I needed a date, I flipped out yet again.

"Are you serious?!" I inquired. "Who says you need a date to your best friend's wedding? Couldn't you have told me this a little sooner?" I mean, I've got a few guys around, but none who want to drop everything to walk me up the aisle in a tux. "Well you can always use my twelve-year-old little brother..." Hillary giggles. "But you most definitely need an escort."

So the search began. Everyone was either working or going to school somewhere far away. I must say, I'm not one for luck. But finally an eligible bachelor swung my way. Good ol' Stuart, my long time ago ex. Who cares that he recently dated Gus who dumped him for her new boyfriend who did I mention? is her escort for this wonderous occasion. Talk about life drama. Good thing my friends are chill and didn't really make a big deal of it.

Ten-o-clock on a Saturday morning, rehearsing the ceremony, wasn't exactly how I planned on starting my day, either. The next hour was spent searching for love songs to compile onto a CD for the recception later that evening. Of course, me and Gus took way longer than expected and had all of ten minutes to put ourselves together complete with hair and makeup. I must say we did a pretty darn good job. The smell of singed hair, deoderant, perfume and hair spray won't soon be forgotten.

Then for the drive to Hillary's. The ceremony started at one, but pictures were at noon, all in her neighbor's backyard. We sprinted up the porch steps, and the moment I opened the door and saw Hillary getting ready, I gasped. She looked exquisite, her hair in cute little curls, and wearing lipstick, the first time that's happened since I've known her.

Then it was time for dresses. Us bridesmaids squeezed into ours then it was time for the big one. The whole time I just had to be closest to Hillary. I am after all her best friend. I have rights, right? Her mom just glared. I helped Hill slip into her dress, but not before she showed us all her "blue" superman underwear. What a champ.

We loaded her into her mother's "midlife crisis" convertible, looking very much like Wedding Barbie or Miss America, only ten times more gorgeous. Then it finally hits me. In a half hour, my best friend is going to be married. The one who's grown up being my "twin." The one I cry to, the one who loves me for the wacko I am, because she's just as crazy. The one who bitch slapped me in Driver's Ed in front of the whole class cuz she thought I was trying to steal her man. Soon everything will be different.

We drive across the street and unload all the poufs of satin and lace and lower this lovely girl to the ground. We spend a few minutes taking pictures and hugging before the final moment. Then it's here... We're walking up the aisle. We take our seats and the two of them stand there. Matt and Hillary, eyes sparkling at each other, looking very much in love.

They take their vows, they cheesily kiss, then he walks her back up the aisle, now as husband and wife. It's all over. I always figured I'd be first, but sure Hillary would be the one to prove me wrong. I lost my best friend that day. So young and crazy. But she seemed happy. I hope with all my heart it stays that way. If not, Matt will have a run in with all us bridesmaids. And I can guarantee we won't be wearing those hideous dresses.

This just about sums it all up.

I have no space
no room to move around
and this box is getting smaller
I'm trying to get out

How did I get so far
from where I was
when did I decide
to lose my way
who have I become

I've got a new low
all 52 cards in a row
I see now that I won't let go
no I won't let go

Well who am I?
a cold shoulder left to cry
you feel bad, well so do I
yeah so do I

I've been right
I've been left
I've been wrong
I've been left behind
I've been up but mostly down

I can not help feeling like
I have so much at stake
so I lock myself inside my head
and I just run in place

So many directions I don't
know which way to go
I'm so busy doing nothing
I got nothing to show

I make mistakes
just like everybody else
but instead of letting go of it
I can't forgive myself

Well I did my time
in the windowless box
like it or not
all I got now is today
tomorrow aint here
and yesterday is gone dead on me anyway

pour mes ambitions futures

Je vais finir mes études "undergraduate" à une université en Orem- UVSC. Après ça, Je compte me marier mon fiance Brett. Je tiens a étudier à Columbia University à NY, donc nous devons déménager! Nous allons voyager à NYC pour une semaine ce mai pour trouver un école pour Brett, et pour trouver un appartement.

Après mes étudies a Columbia, je vais obtenir ma maîtrise en les sciences humaines. Puis, je voudrais retourner à Utah parce que je veux rester près de ma famille. Après, je trouve un travail que j'aime, j'ai l'intention de voyager avec Brett à la plage, n'importe ou!

Dans la plus future, je compte avoir quelques enfants. J'adore les enfants, donc, je veux avoir beaucoup mais pas trop! J’espère habiter à Florida ou une place près de la plage, mais je ne sais pas si je vais vouloir ça dans la future quand j'ai une famille. J'adore quand il fait chaud, donc je dois habiter dans la sud, mais ce n'est pas possible, je pense. c'est pas grave....

Isn't it funny how plans change?

PostSecret

Today as an activity for my group, I had my clients make PostSecret cards.

Yeah, it was pretty awesome.

So awesome, I decided to make my own:

P.S. Did you notice my last blog post got a lot shorter? (Probably not, but it's because I sold a bunch of stuff that I had listed at the bottom, and I'm pretty freaking excited about it! Just thought I would share...)

you've got to make a mess before you can clean it up.

Yesterday I was reminded of something silly I used to do as a kid.

When I was instructed to clean my room, I usually had a difficult time doing so. Not because I didn't like to clean, but because I would look at my room in all its atrocity and decide that instead of straightening it up or burying everything in the closet (as would a normal child), I would "deep clean" the place.

The whole process would begin with me throwing everything out of my closet and into the middle of the room. I would then proceed to dump out all of my dresser drawers, leaving their contents strewn across the small amount of real estate my floor afforded.

Usually I would end up with a giant mess that took me weeks, if not months to sort through. You see, I would start with the aspirations of getting rid of a few things here and there and organizing what I wanted to keep. But, because I was such a pack rat, I would instead look through every item I owned with nostalgia, unable to detach from it and give it a better home in landfill, USA.

I guess I'm pretty much the same person I was back then, because last night, this is what my living room looked like:

I decided to be productive and finally start cleaning out my shed. Brett's uncle is going to be moving in with us in a couple weeks, so I realized that I couldn't leisurely pull out and go through one or two boxes a week. Nope, instead I pulled out ALL the contents of the fricking thing, and they are now taking over my living room! I guess that will really give me an incentive to go through all this crap, and FAST.

Even thought I was EXHAUSTED from just having spent 3 hours at Walmart, 30 minutes hauling all my groceries up our three flights of stairs, and close to 2 hours hauling nearly all of these boxes you see up the same amount of stairs, I still managed to go through one box and get rid of the majority of its contents!

Hooray for getting a great head start on one of my major summer bucket list items!

P.S. The following items are all ones I am trying to sell in attempt to de-clutter my house. If you or anyone you know would like them, please see the links below to find out more details including how to contact me for them! (Please, please, please!)

 And again.

 And again.

 And again.

And finally, click here  for the final one.