Things I'm Terrible At

Including, but not limited to:

• Speaking in church (which we're doing today). I talk too fast and say whatever I feel like. I know. Your worst Sacrament meeting nightmare. 
• Using knives, especially sharp ones
• Washing my face before bed
• Swimming. I blame it on my, ahem, DD drag resistance. Not buoyant. 
• Lipstick
• Singing, but I don't let that stop me. Haters gon hate.
• Fasting. Aren't we all, though?
• Children under 12. I'm bad at children.
• Elderly over 70. I'm also bad at old people. 
• Using hot rollers
• Forgiving 
• Any kind of art or design. I can't make anything look good. 
• Comforting people
• Pushing myself hard in a workout. I jump off that treadmill as soon as I talk myself out of it. sometimes before I'm even inside the gym. 
• Photography, editing, "real" blogging
• Choosing sides in a debate - Liberal v. Conservative Issues, Educational ideologies, NSYNC v. BSB (jk it's totally NSYNC)
• Standing up to people
• Cooking & sometimes baking (i.e. French macarons)
• Training Glen Coco. He's just too cute or I'm just too lazy or both. 
• Running into people I kind of know at Walmart. I always hide and/or pretend to not see them. 
• Pushing my kids when they don't want to be pushed. 
• Buying people presents they actually want

Yikes that list got long fast and I'm only getting started. 

But apparently there are at least 100 of you out there who think I'm not terrible at blogging, so I want to thank you for that. I appreciate your kind, hilarious, insightful comments and of course, your friendship. All my love coming through this post direct to you. 

Love

D

A Response to the FYI Post and Slut-Shaming

DISCLAIMER: This is MY blog and MY thoughts. You are also entitled to your own. I love a good discussion and sharing viewpoints. I DON'T like when people respond with "You're wrong!" or "This is so stupid!" or any other idiot way of responding. Be an adult. Start with "I actually think that..." or "See, I feel like..." so we can actually have a civilized conversation. You're not going to actually change anyone's mind. If my mind changes, it's because I changed it, not you. If you come into any argument guns blazing, shouting your viewpoint and degrading others, I tune you out and also I reserve the right to hate you. Fair warning? Ok. Let's proceed.

Yesterday I read the FYI post by Mrs. Hall about her boys, their girl friends, and social media. Read it here.

Then I read a response to Mrs. Hall, somewhat disagreeing and also expanding her argument. Read it here.

Really. Go read them. I'll wait.






Ok thank you. Here is HOW I SEE IT. Not how it's universally to be determined or defined. Just the view of a middle school teacher who works with teens and pre-teens every day. Sure, I'm no mom. But if you think your kid's teachers aren't seeing sides of your kid that you don't see, sides they hide from you or change when you're around, you're delusional. I'm around these kids when they are around their friends, some of whom you've never even met. I'm around them, but I'm nearly invisible at times. They don't even really think of their teachers as "adults" and often ignore our presence in the hallways and classrooms - they say and do things they'd never do in front of their parents and siblings. I've even called home to let a few parents know about things I've overheard that were significant. (If you're ever worried about your kid - try calling their teacher. Find out what you don't know. They're happy to help because they LOVE your kid. I promise) I know how they refer to one another, I know what they say about social media, I even see their social media from time to time. So here is my un-expert opinion on boys, girls, posting sketchy selfies and who we should blame (Hint: It's no one, because blaming "society as a whole!" is bull*&^$. It's not about blame, it's about goals for the future.)

Blog #1 - Mrs. Hall - is saying basically 3 things (I'll paraphrase)

1. "Hey Girls. I know you're picturing your besties, jealous girls and a few key guys you're hoping to attract when you post these pics, but be aware that other people can also see." Really helpful reminder - for all of us! I'll post stuff just thinking of my friends, and not really think about my mom, mother-in-law, student's parents being able to see it. Post like EVERYONE is watching. She says this gently and with love - not slut-shaming. She says you can reclaim your image, delete things, work on it. That's great. I agree.
2. She points out that there are consequences for both parties when photos like that are posted. Never at any point does she actually BLAME the girls or her boys. She does talk about responsibility, which is different, and more important than blame. This is where I'm finding a lot of people getting really overexcited about the "blame the boys!" argument. She never says "It's your fault my boys think sexual thoughts you slutty women!" No. She says what is essentially true - It's possible that when people see a photo of you, their view of you may change, often against your will. YOU HAVE TO ACCEPT THIS AS TRUTH, REGARDLESS OF GENDER. For good or bad, any photo can change how you see a person. Did she say that her boys should instantly stop respecting those girls and treat them terribly? No. She didn't. In fact, she seems pretty adamant that her sons respect all women. It doesn't have to be a double standard unless you make it one. I believe she'll make her daughter delete boys who post pics and statuses like that too. The point of this that when we see pictures of girls or boys, objectifying themselves or showing skills, looking smart or looking stupid, our opinion can change and we need to be aware of the messages we send, good and bad. 
3. "There are respectful, decent, classy gentlemen out there that are looking for girls with integrity - wait for them. You may feel like the only way to get a man is through turning yourself into an object, but believe in your beauty and know that it isn't true." Amen, amen and amen. I see these girls every day, I see these boys every day. I see them value the visual and physical, the temporary. Let's promote class and modesty, beauty and knowledge, appreciation and gratitude. 

Blog #2 - Ms. Hains - is saying basically 3 things (paraphrased)

1.  "It's not the girl's fault, it is the boy's. They are choosing to have certain thoughts/desires/actions." I agree with this! I don't agree that Mrs. Hall places the blame on the ladies, though. She doesn't. If you actually READ the post, she loves those girls too and wants the best for them. She is reinforcing her sons' agency by having them take control and delete those young women that may present challenges to them as they work on respecting and honoring women. She knows her boys are responsible for themselves, and she supports it. I'm about to confess something dramatic and potentially scandalous - a mild 'sorry' to my conservative Holdaway clan - but I do wear bikinis on occasion. Not always, but sometimes. I don't wear them to be sexy or show off. I wear them because they fit better, they're easier to find, buy and care for, and I like them. If people have a problem with it, they are choosing that problem - this includes men that see me as a sexual object. HOWEVER. It isn't only the boys fault! If the boys have agency, so do the ladies! Girls are sometimes CHOOSING to show themselves as objects and see themselves that way. Ideally, yes, men would control their thoughts and desires and opinions about women as objects. But for some men and boys they simply aren't going to, and you as women can't control their thoughts - only the way you represent yourself. So make good choices and hope that the boys will follow your lead. Ditch them if they don't - you deserve better. 
2. "The real problem is the objectification of girls - by men and by themselves!" 100% correct. And this is why I think people who bash "slut-shaming" as bad or immoral are completely missing the mark. Slut-shaming, like anything else, should never be rude, derogatory or bullying. That being said, we can't speak out against the objectification of women while also empowering and supporting the objectification of women. Miley Cyrus, case in point. People are defending her freedom of choice, expression, sexuality, adulthood, what-have-you and saying that "slut-shaming" her is sexist. Really? You don't think that the fact that she thought it was appropriate and acceptable that she represent herself as a sexual object with a married man on national television isn't more objectifying? Go ahead. Think whatever you want. But that's just backwards.
3. "We need to teach our sons respect and compassion so that girls don't feel the need to objectify, and so boys don't dwell solely on sexuality." Agree, but again. There IS some responsibility for the ladies. Ideally, yes, again, men should never objectify women. But if girls don't take the time to de-objectify themselves and appreciate their self-worth, how can they expect anyone else to? Many of the girls don't even understand that they are objectifying themselves and that's the role of a parent, teacher, loved one to sit her down and TELL HER how much she's worth. How much she's loved. How many awesome and great things she'll do if she just believes in herself. How much life there is outside of junior high, high school or college.

No one is to "blame" here. Boys will think what they want, hopefully learning to control their thoughts and respect women, as taught by their parents, teachers and friends. Girls will dress and selfie how they want, hopefully learning to represent themselves with the worth they see in themselves, as taught by their parents, teachers and friends.

Stop blaming. Start loving.

Stop pointing fingers. Start pointing out the good things.

These kids are so vulnerable. So confused. So TEMPORARY. They can't see the big picture. They can't see their worth. They can't see that one day they will be adults, one day someone will love them for THEM. We have to be their advocates. We have to tell them how important they are, and how important their gender counterparts are to get them to respect each other and themselves.

It's not about boys or girls, kids or adults. It's about love and respect. Right? Let's do this. Let's help them. Let's love them. Let's talk to them. Let's lead by example. Let's dance. Let's hug and eat guacamole. Let's watch old Disney movies and high five. Ok this is getting away from me. Bye.

I Can't Believe I'm Defending Twilight

I recently wrote about The Beard and I fighting over music. Another argument we often have, more good-naturedly (?) than our music arguments, is about our favorite series - LOTR for The Beard and obvs Harry Potter for me. Neither of us have read the other's favorite series, but we have watched the movies several times and enjoy it.

{I DID read The Hobbit and liked it, and I've tried to read LOTR like 10x but I just can't get past Rivendell. One day. One day. And The Beard and I have listened to 1-4.5 of the HP audiobooks on drives to St. George. Compromise}

Our arguments are usually just joking - "Harry Potter has more applicable and meaningful life & moral lessons. They aren't just kids books. They are adult books that also can be for kids. You learn something new about them and YOURSELF every time you read them!!!!" vs. "LOTR is an allegory and it's just so deep and noble and blah blah" I don't really listen that closely because at that point I'm usually crying about Dobby the second I hear the word "noble."

We usually never even talk about Twilight, because why? The Beard, like all men, hates Twilight. This Oatmeal video accurately sums up his ideas.


Last night we started arguing about it, even though I don't feel that strongly about them. Did I like Twilight? Not really. I enjoyed the first book and hated each one more and more after that. Are they groundbreaking? No. Should they define our generation? Hell no. But would I stop my children from reading them? Absolutely not. And here's why.

"These books are pointless and STUPID."

Yeah, so? If kids are excited about reading something that isn't 50 Shades of Gray or Halo cheat codes, we should be psyched about that. It's not Shakespeare. But it's something. Just read.

"It is PORNOGRAPHY for WOMEN."

Really? REALLY? Is it? It encourages waiting until marriage for intimacy and its pretty low-key when intimacy is involved. Sure, it's charged and emotional. But it is NOT pornography. You know what IS pornography for women? Trashy romance novels with half naked women and shirtless men on the covers that explicitly describes sexual encounters. Shut your stupid mouth you idiot.

Which brings me to my strongest, most angry argument.

"It just gives girls unreasonable expectations!"

I'm sorry - do you think they expect handsome vampires to show up and fall in love with them? Oh you think that the RELATIONSHIP is unreasonable, I see. Which part? The part where the man respects the woman? The part where the man protects the woman? The part where the man doesn't push a physical relationship? The part where the man is unselfish and puts the woman first?

Yes, Bella is worthless. Yes, Edward's dedication, selflessness and perfection is unrealistic.

I believe that if we're going to rank fictional characters to model our ideal men after we should DEFINITELY be going for a Neville Longbottom over an Edward Cullen. 

But if there's something that attracts females to these books that they can learn from, it's certainly the idea that women should expect respect and care from a male suitor. I see so many girls - students, friends, acquaintances, randoms in a restaurant - with complete DOUCHEBAGS that treat them TERRIBLY.

If all we take away from Twilight is that love should be happy, mutual, selfless and safe - then that's a lesson plenty of women in this world need to learn.

But make sure you read all the Harry Potters first. They have better lessons. And I hear LOTR has some good lessons too. :)

Her Hair is Full of Secrets

My mom is pretty cool. My friends have always been jealous of how cool of a mom I have.

A. My mom has always had great style and ALWAYS looks put together. Have you met my mom? Ever seen her with a greasy pony tail? Nope. Neither have I in 23 years. Those people exist in the universe. And Patti J is one of them.

B. A salon in my house stocked with every hair tool, product and makeup item the heart could desire - yeah, it's been pretty rad.

C. She's always super nice to everyone, all the time. She's a great listener (I think you probably have to be, to be a hairdresser) and everyone likes and trusts her. For this reason people tell her everything. She's the hub of all info and gossip you could ever hope to know.

Yesterday we went to the Draper temple - where I went through for the first time before we got married. I had Mother's Day on the mind and kept thinking of some of the greatest things about Patti B.

First, I obviously thought of when I went through the temple, since, you know, we were there. I remember every time I got nervous or confused, I just looked over at my mom next to me and she was just smiling and comfortable. I've watched my parents go to the temple every few Tuesdays pretty much my entire life. I remember thinking "If my mom does this and is happy and comfortable here so regularly, I can be too and that's what I want."

Then I thought about the first time I was really grateful for my mom and knew she loved me. I got my wisdom teeth out when I was 12 and I had to go to an oral surgeon because I had a random phantom extra tooth to be removed from my sinus cavity as well. It was pretty rough. I had to take a bunch of pain/antibiotic/puke my guts out pills every few hours, including during the night. I've always been really independent and could have easily set my own alarms and woken up to take my own pills responsibly. And I think my mom knew that. But she woke up every few hours during the night, even though she had to work, to make sure I took the pills and was feeling ok. I remember thinking "She doesn't have to do this. It must be a pain to wake up every few hours knowing she doesn't have to do this. But she's doing it, and its very reassuring to me."

She never missed a game!

Then I thought about the first time my mom made my jaw drop. We were at Seven Peaks and I was probably 10 or 12. She came to do the rope swing with us because Mitch was so little. She got in line. Ok Patti B. You're gonna rope swing? Wow. Alright.

She grabs the rope and takes a pretty aggressive jump. That's weird. She's planting her feet on the bottom knot. Ok that's a really high arc... what is sh---

SHE JUST DID A FREAKING BACKDIVE OFF THE ROPE SWING THAT'S MY MOM OMG OMG IS THAT MY MOM THAT CAN'T BE MY MOM OMG PEOPLE ARE CHEERING OMG THAT WAS UNREAL

My mom has literally never embarrassed me in my life. How many people can say that? Probably none. Sorry everyone.

I also acquired most of my fiesty-ness from my mom. She once called a lady in our ward and gave her the scariest talking to I've ever heard because she was rude to me after my 5th grade graduation and made me cry. It was awesome.

The thing I've grown to appreciate most about my mom as I've gotten older is that she takes care of herself and retained her own person. She runs every day. She even does Insanity now! As mentioned above, she always looks flawless, never sloppy. No one has ever or will ever accuse her of "letting herself go." She always made it a priority to go on dates with my dad alone every week - a tradition I want to adopt in my marriage when we have kids. She is always making friends and takes time to maintain her friendships. She loves to do hair, so she found a way to do it and still be a "stay at home mom." She reads often, keeps our house immaculate and makes the best bread you will ever eat. You'll never catch her sleeping past 10 on a weekend - because she has too much to do to make her life sparkle.

Your life sparkles just by touching hers. 

And it wouldn't be Mother's Day without mentioning my awesome Mother-in-Law. How I got so lucky to land a MIL that is so kind and welcoming, as well as just so COOL, I'll never know. Kitty made it a point to make me feel welcome in the family from the first moment I met her and I'll never forget that. She texts me about The Office, makes me my favorite delicious cupcakes and nurtures me like I'm one of her own. With so many of my friends around me stressing and complaining about crazy MILs, I have to quietly smile to myself. I don't want to rub it in their faces that not only is my MIL normal, but she's someone I WANT to spend time with whenever I can.

Love you Moms!

The Pitz

Easter had a very special meaning for me this year - probably more than it ever has before.

This year it meant so much to me because I feel like I finally, truly understood how much I need the Atonement. A desperate need. Because I was in the bottom of The Pit.

I've always been a "good girl." Read my scriptures. Went to church. Paid attention in Sunday School and seminary. I really tried hard to develop my testimony and do what was right. But for whatever reason, I always kind of knew I wasn't "converted." I knew I'd be a lifelong member - don't get me wrong - but I didn't feel like I was that bad of a person, didn't feel like I needed the church or repentance or anything like that. I prayed out of habit and never really expected anything in return.

Last Sunday, a week before Easter, I woke up feeling absolutely worthless, with no real cause. I can't really explain it, but I just had this tangible clarity. I saw myself as I really was. Every bad thing I've done. Every stupid thing I've said (and you could fill books longer and more numerous than the works of Tolkien with them). Even worse, all the embarrassing moments and things about me that just make me cringe.

I'm just not a good person. I'm simply not. Even when I'm trying to be, it seems fake and shallow, which is why so many people see through it. I'm so arrogant. Such a know-it-all. I think I'm invulnerable and perfect. I just try so hard to be liked and included. When I'm not, I just point the finger back at them while still striving to win their approval. No wonder they don't like me. Why would they? I'm nothing if not entirely self-serving.

To sum it all up, I felt worthless. Absolutely worthless. And the worst part? These terrible things about me aren't usually conscious choices, but ingrained facets of my personality and unhealthy habits. For the first time ever I saw myself as "The Natural Man." I have never felt so humbled and scared.

One of my favorite parables of the Atonement is the natural man who digs himself a hole with every bad decision, every mistake, always believing that he has the power, in and of himself, to save himself - to get out of that hole. Eventually, he realizes that his hole is now a pit, and he can't stop digging, let alone get out on his own. No ladder is tall enough. No man-made way out. After an impassioned plea, the only one who can save him, The Savior, appears and lifts him from his hopeless state.

That's where I was. Annoying Danica. Prideful, worldly, snarky, hypocritical Danica. At the bottom of that pit, hopeless. My mistakes span decades. I've squandered so many opportunities to be a good teammate, a righteous example, a faithful friend, an encouraging big sister, a helpful daughter and an optimistic social media user. I've been so fake and so really awful. My shortcomings so totally outweigh my righteous intentions.

"How can I fix those years of being the worst? Even if I could fix these awful mistakes, which I don't intentionally make and have no idea how to change, there's no way my family and friends can change their opinions of me now, not after years of me being so obnoxious. Where do I go from here? Burn everything and start over?" I asked to no one in particular, as I wiped away slow tears.

Then it came so soft and strong, not even from a voice or another person, other than perhaps the Holy Ghost drawing it out of me. It was MY voice, MY head, MY spirit that sat up, after much neglect and ambivalence.

"Obviously, Jesus Christ is your only option. THIS is what all your Sunday School teachers and General Conference talks were referencing. THIS is the Atonement. He is the only one that can erase those mistakes, those embarrassing moments and your every shortcoming. But it works. And it will work for you, too."



I've read about the Atonement. In detail. I've had the awesome EFY Atonement devotional experience. I've testified of my personal knowledge of the Atonement. But until that moment I didn't know that I knew. And I especially didn't know that I needed it so desperately.

But I do know. And I'm so grateful. This week has been so much lighter and better, not JUST because of Spring Break and our awesome vacation (post coming soon), but also because I was so humbled and recommitted to watch myself, repent, try harder, and just to be a better person. I was filled with hope, knowing that His sacrifice covers me and if I do what I need to, I can erase all the stupid stuff I've done.

Those of you who know me in real life - I've done a lot of this stupid stuff to you. You know how insufferable I can be. I know an internet apology really isn't anything at all, but I offer it nonetheless. I'm sorry for being such an obnoxious, hypocritical friend to you all. I do know now what a lame person I am and I'm really going to try to fix it.

Thank you so much for being so good to me anyways. I don't deserve such awesome friends and family, but I am certainly grateful every day for you. I know you are racking up the points in heaven just for being so cool to me when I'm the worst.

So here's to a new me - newer than any New Year, new school year, etc. I'm re-reading all of the October 2012 conference talks to prepare for conference this weekend and studying repentance, forgiveness, true conversion and charity like my life depends on it. Because, really, it does.

Thank goodness for my Savior, Jesus Christ, His magnificent Atonement, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, my amazing husband who loves me every day and for all of you.

I Knew Going to FHE was a Bad Idea.

This is a story about when I realized that the Beard was IT. I thought it apropos since it's Valentine's week and all. **Incidentally it is also the story of one of the worst dates I've ever been on.**

Background

The Beard and I met in August 2009. We started hanging out in October and kissed in December. It was still really casual and cautious, and in March we both decided independently to be gone for the summer - Ryan in Arizona and me in England. We hung out more and more in April, realizing we really liked each other in the face of departure.

A week after we first met - the night he got my digits. Epic. 

The night before he left for Arizona, at the end of April, we had a really good talk about our expectations for the summer. We weren't even bf/gf at that point, so doing the long distance thing was clearly out of the question. The Beard was a bit of a commitment-phobe at the time and I had reservations about that. I also knew that he was going down there with his single dude posse, and that there would undoubtedly be  just scores of hot Arizona girls to occupy their limited down time.

As for me, this was the first summer that I didn't take classes and two months before I left. I was incredibly excited about have a "real" summer and though I really liked Ryan, I wasn't going to waste my summer stressing about a boy that wasn't here.

So we decided to have an awesome summer, stay in touch if we wanted to, and see what September brought back, with equal parts hope and pessimism.

FHE/DATE MARKET

Ryan left on a Sunday. Monday I got up, went to work, and had a very regular day. No tears, no sadness. I was pretty sure Ryan was going to forget about me and I can't STAND feeling clingy. I just decided to get over it, expect nothing, have fun and not even think about him. There were new adventures ahead.

When I got home, my cute roommate Natalie was getting ready for FHE and invited me to come. I LOLed a little.

Fun Fact About Danica: HATES Singles Wards. Hates FHE. I was semi inactive while in college, because I hated going to church so bad. I went to every farewell in Springville/Mapleton, went to my home ward often, and left early from my singles ward all the time.

Still. I was committed to meeting new people and having a blast this summer, so I went. Big mistake. I don't remember what we did, but we sat down in the big circle of chairs and instantly some boys came over to talk to us. I looked up and was instantly drawn to one of the guys, who saw me looking and walked toward me, smiling.

"Wow." I thought. "They really were right about singles wards. I am having a Taylor Swift moment with a guy I've never met. All because of FHE."

He sits down next to me, we exchange names and small talk, and then the Bishop gets up to start the lesson/activity/whatever we were doing. We quiet down. I was trying to be as charming as possible, obviously.

My mind is going a mile a minute. "What was that connection? Did he feel it? Don't get ahead of yourself, Crazy, he could have a girlfriend. Could I even date someone in my ward? That's an awkward story to tell our kids we met in a singles ward." Don't act like you haven't done this embarrassing thought train route before.

But then I started to notice all my judgy little things. "That's weird... why would I be attracted to a guy in construction-style dirty boots? Wait a minute. Those are Bugle Boy jeans. His hat is camouflage. What. What. What."

Let me be clear. I have no issue with many of those observations. It's just not my type. I was starting to question my mental health. Then he started talking again.

"Do you like Mexican food? I need a date for this week and I'd sure like to get some Cafe Rio!"

How did I not notice his hick accent before? And did he really just ask me out within 5 minutes of knowing me? I even thought I was attracted to this guy. I'm going crazy. I must be.

I accepted, because I will always accept a first date. Always. Any single girl who doesn't is a B*TCH. Who do you think you are, turning down a guy who worked up the courage to compliment you with a date?

As we left FHE, I'm in this weird shock. What just happened? I thought I had a legitimate connection with this guy. Am I crazy? He's 0% my type. The more I talked to him, the less I liked him.

Plus he was clearly fresh off his mission - he brought it up like 100 times and asked what my favorite scripture was. All the more apparent during our date... dun-dun-dunnnnnnnnnnnn...

THE DATE

The next morning he sent me a very next follow-up text. With one too many winky-faces. How many you ask? One. I'm mean. I know he was just trying to be nice. But a winky face is always creepy.

Two days later, he would pick me up 20 minutes early for our date (WORSE THAN BEING LATE) and proceed to offer a prayer over our Cafe Rio meal in the middle of the restaurant. Yes.  As always at Cafe Rio, there were no less than 10 people I knew there, watching. No that I'm ashamed of praying. I pray. Oh, do I pray. But am I wrong in thinking that maybe in the middle of Cafe Rio on a first date might not be the appropriate time/place for a verbal prayer? Regardless, I bowed my head and prayed with him.

The REALIZATION

After dinner, I politely declined his offer to watch a movie at his place. It seemed weird at 6 pm on a Wednesday night. Also he probably only watched the Living Scriptures, and man, sometimes Laman and Lemuel are just too much for me, you know?

I walked back into my apartment is disbelief. What a dismal date from such optimistic beginnings. 

So what was going on? What did it mean?!!!!

At that precise moment of confusion, my other roommate, Becca, walks up. I told her I just went on a date with that kid from FHE.

"WHAT? That guy talking your ear off all night? He totally reminded me of Ryan! He looks so much like him!"



........


Well.



There it is.

He had Ryan's same color and shape of eyes.  Brown hair. Big football guy build.

Bingo.

So I'm not gonna say that was the moment I gave up dating, because I went out with a handful of guys in those two months before England. But it was.

Cafe Rio prayer guy reminded me that there was no one quite like Ryan, and that I wanted to see where that went. I'm really glad the Beard felt the same way and spent his summer texting me between houses.

Because it went here.

Happy Birthday Mr. President (Beard)!

You are the Jim to my Pam.

The Andy to my April.

The Han Solo to my Leia. 

The Kirk to my Spock.

The Samwise to my Frodo. 

 

The father to my Glen Coco and future baby/puppy Holdaways. 

My rock, my relief and my very best friend. 

I'm so glad I tricked you into marrying me. 

Happy Birthday Beard! Love you!

"That's LAME." - Ed Budge, My Father

The other day, I was sitting at my brother's baseball game and my dad goes-

"Dan, those shoes are cool." - Ed

"Thanks, Dad!" - Danica

".... Sometimes, Always, Never..." - Ed

I LOLed. And then pondered on the fact that my dad regularly reads my blog, even the girly S-A-N fashion posts, and supports me.

To the man who taught me to love the Chicago Cubs from Day 1

To the man who loves Disneyland more than anything

To the man who spent countless hours with me at the softball fields

To the man who put our family first

To the man who helped me get to the temple (and to the new dad I got in the temple! I have a Chad now too!)

I have always and will always be a daddy's girl. I love you dad! Thanks for being the best. Not LAME.

That's Why You're Single....

Valentime's day was awesome. The Beard nailed it, obviously. We started with a classy dinner at Magleby's and then followed it up with our V-day tradition - The Cocoa Bean.

I love the Cocoa Bean. It's well documented. No offense to the Sweet Tooth Fairy lovers, but I've always preferred Cocoa Bean's cupcakes, and their drinks are unbeatable. Everyone knows this.

LAO Crew, circa 2010

So Tuesday night, Valentine's Day, we are chilling at Cocoa Bean, enjoying our delicious drinks and the superb people watching, when two girls walk in.

Sweats & Uggs.

McDonald's bag of food.

5 Cupcakes between them. 5!!!!

Who ARE these people? I'm all for self-medicating and indulging once in a while. But a bag of McDonald's and 5 cupcakes? In public?!!!! You couldn't get them to go and eat at home? You couldn't at least put on some jeans and just eat your single cupcake with your girlfriend in public? There are so many wrong choices here, I can't even pinpoint the worst one.

Wait. Yes I can. It's the five cupcakes between two girls. Balanced precariously among the purses and McDonald's on the tiny cafe table.

I know you "don't care." YOU SHOULD CARE. This is what gives Provo a bad name. If you don't value yourself and want to be something great, how do you expect a young man to "man up" and see you with value? I'm not even going to ADDRESS the unhealthy status of your diet. Have some self respect. Until you do, you're likely to spend every Valentine's day with fast food.

Is that mean? I'm no longer single (praise the Lord), so I have little sympathy for these girls, but I was once in this position. I never ate a full bag of McDonald's and 5 cupcakes, but I've had those days. And I feel qualified to say that the turning point came when I woke up. I met The Beard (in his beardless days, believe it or not), and he was so vibrant, so fun, so lively. My life had lacked that for a while. But he made me see who I wanted to be. I wanted to be the girl that could match that. I finally started being the person I wanted to be - the one that a great guy wanted to marry and have forever.

And that girl does NOT wear sweats and Uggs to eat fast food and cupcakes in public.

Come on, sweetheart. It's for your own good. Trust me. I'm a married woman.

ValenTIMES Day

I love Valentines Day. I always have. Even when I was single, I prided myself on not being one of those bitter girls. You know the types.

1. The Denier. Boycotts Valentine's Day by watching violent movies, wearing all black, locking themselves in their apartments. I bet that makes you feel better, huh?

2. The Annoyer. Pretends to not care, has a loud, obnoxious girls night by taking the tables meant for couples at the chic sushi restaurant. We get it. You're SOOOOO independent.

3. The Whiner. Basically just drops pity-party comments like "Well, if I HAD anyone to spend it with..." "These hearts just remind me that I'm alone, hahahaha! *sob*" There is a reason you're alone, sweetheart.

Celebrate LOVE you guys! It doesn't matter if you don't have it yet! It's ok. And it's ok for other couples to celebrate. The flowers, chocolates and teddy bears might be tacky, but it's not the items. It's a celebration of LOVE!

Last year's Valentine's, or ValenTIMES, as Ryan calls it, was amazing. Ryan surprised me with dinner at Shoga, a completely shocking ring shopping trip, and hilarious people watching at the Cocoa Bean. It was perfect. For our first married Valentimes we wanted to keep the pace.

Ryan is surprising me with the dinner location, again. Cocoa Bean will be our delicious dessert, and instead of ring shopping we're planning a cozy night with an old romantic movie (we're thinking "An Affair to Remember" or something equally classy).

I keep planning outfit after outfit. No one tell me I have to pick just one.

And I just couldn't resist the cute boxes of class Valentines so I got some classy Batman Valentines and I'm whipping up these pink beauties for our family and friends. Hopefully Cupid smiles upon me in this quest.

Love LOVE and love you all!

6

Six months ago I married my best friend in the Salt Lake Temple. Here's 6 things I would have missed out on if I hadn't done that.

1. Sleepovers. It's way better to wake up to someone you love than to your stupid roommate blasting the Black Eyed Peas.

2. Meal Plans. I never would have learned how to cook. Who would have guessed that I could actually cook a real life adult dinner? Thanks, Pinterest.

3. Double Family Fun. Twice the dinners, parties and presents.

4. The Temple. We don't go as often as we should, but going together is pretty awesome.

5. Therapy. Being able to come home and talk to the Beard about my day, every day, as boring and juvenile as it always is, is priceless to me. Being married helps you open up further than you ever have before, because let's face it. What is he going to do? Divorce me? Ok. Actually. No one tell him that's a real thing or I'll have some trouble.

6. Love. It's hard to describe the way your feelings change when you get married. Well. They don't really change. They are just amplified and expanded in ways you couldn't predict. Empathy, concern, companionship, it all grows and evolves. The Beard literally became my everything, and it's terrifying and wonderful. He's patient and caring when I'm not. He lets me be right (sometimes. Even though I ALWAYS am). It's been a rougher 6 months than I could have predicted, but it would have been completely unbearable without this crazy love.

Looking forward to many more 6 month anniversaries, I love you Beard.

Goodbyes Are Such B*tches, You Guys.

I don't know who decided to fill my dream summer with bittersweet moments, but it wasn't me. And don't start into the whole "You can't have the bitter without the sweet." I know. I get it. But still. I spent a decent amount of my summer saying goodbye to things I loved.

First, The Office. Well, The Office as it should be. I WILL still be following The Office this fall, without Michael Scott. But we all know it will never be the same. Laugh all you want at Little Miss Danica, but The Office means a lot to me. It defined me during formative years. It nails my humor in a singular way. There have been times when I've felt lost, discouraged, depressed, and the only prescription that seemed to work was the friendly Jim/Dwight rivalry, a handful of ignorant Michael Scott comments, a dash of wacky Creed, and general Office camaraderie.

The clock just would not stop ticking as the "Goodbye Michael" episode neared. I didn't even want to watch it. I felt like a part of me would die or be lost. The Office without Michael is like chips with no salsa. Coke with no Diet. Danica with no Beard. OBVIOUSLY I was gonna watch it. But I was scared. Especially to watch it with The Beard. I knew I'd be emotional. And I've never really been a crier. But it was inevitable. The Beard would have to see that side of me sooner or later.

Well, it was sooner. I fell to pieces. Absolutely fell apart. Ryan's white tee sleeve was streaked with mascara. I couldn't believe it was happening. The moment between Jim and Michael melted my heart completely. The years of frustration and anger dissolved in the cathartic goodbye that wasn't. They did a fantastic job. It was hard, but it was time. I said goodbye.

Then it was goodbye to the LAO. No need to dwell on that. It's all been said and done.

When a student is struggling with a concept, the recommendation is to increase the FIT.

Frequency

Intensity

Time

I practiced my crying by increasing all three of these during Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Pt. 2. It didn't stop. My head was throbbing. The Beard watched with me and concealed his embarrassment. That's why I love him. It was really hard to say goodbye to Harry Potter. Again, something I've loved since I was probably 11. Harry Potter is amazing. J.K. Rowling saved books. Twilight is ridiculous (although I read them), Hunger Games are pretty awesome, and there are other respectable options for young adult and universally appealing fiction. But I think I'm right in saying nothing will touch Harry Potter. Ever, probs. I love to reread them. The movies got better and better. The geek humor of following Harry Potter religiously is incredibly endearing. Thank you, J.K. Rowling. Thank you Harry Potter.

Finally, I said goodbye to my last name. Danica Budge had such a nice ring to it. That's been my name. It's everywhere. Email, Twitter, all kinds of social media, all my online shopping accounts (which are numerous, I assure you). Social Security was a bit of a hassle. Changing my information with Nebo School District took a while. I still haven't even dealt with BYU. It's still a little weird when I habitually sign my name "Danica Budge." Have 200 kids call me "Mrs. Holdaway!" or "Mrs. HALDaway!" all day has helped with the tradition.

But you know what? I love being a Holdaway. I didn't shed a tear over that one. I've joined another family that I'm so proud to be a part of. I like to label myself as The Beard's by taking his name. It's an indication of our new little family. I'll always be a Budge. But now I'm a Holdaway. And it feels great.

The Perfect Day

They always say the day will go by so quick that you won't remember a thing.

Well I do.

They always say the day won't be perfect.

But it was.