CRAZY TOWN.

You know how sometimes you're sitting there and your mind goes on a journey, but noone around you sees that journey, and so all they see is you sitting there and then suddenly you're crying or laughing? Well, I will now attempt to take you on the journey that my mind traveled at the gym. Good luck, and enjoy the soundtrack that was playing on my headphones.

"I wish I would have left at 4:30 like I knew I should have...now my 1 1/2 hour work out is only going to be 35 minutes...all I did was sit around, what a waste of a day."

Look up at news. "These wildfires and heatwaves are just awf....WHAT?! Katie and Tom are splitting? Good, I hate Tom, Katie needs to escape that situation."

"Should I turn on the fan on the exercise bike? No, I like the sweat! There's nothing better than sweating all over the place...that is, when you want to be sweaty. It's not cool when you're sweaty and you're at church or something..."

Look up at the news again. See video of teenagers bullying a sweet old lady. Almost cry. "That is so sad, that poor lady." Remember being bullied on the bus, a lot. Remember being bullied for my weight. Remember bullying other kids. "That's why I have to work out. I have to lose weight...no, but that's wrong. That lady is probably really nice...Everyone thinks those kids are evil or something, but they're just being kids and it happened to get caught on tape. Those poor kids probably feel awful and stupid now. They were just trying to protect themselves by hurting someone else...It's so hard to lose weight. Every time it doesn't work out with a guy I automatically assume it's my weight. It's like in the beginning of that movie Loser when the main guy is telling that girl, or whoever, that his ex-girlfriend broke up with him because she lost a ton of weight and she started getting asked out by hotter guys. Fat people date, but it's usually other fat people. I'm not as fat anymore. My wrists are tiny! Mom said yours wrists always stay the same size. FALSE. Everything gets smaller. It's hard when you try to lose weight for so long. I've grown to hate my fat. Sometimes I hate other people's fat. That's terrible. People are beautiful, I'm beautiful. A person's worth, that includes me, is not based on their weight. I look better, but the scale isn't changing. I miss (insert name of latest crush), I wonder if I was skinny like (insert name of girl he asked out), if he would have asked me out? I bet (insert names of some guys I know) would go out with me, but I don't want to go out with them...My calve muscles are outrageous, damn Gina....20 more minutes."

"My tummy feels funny...but that chili I made was so good..." Worry about money. Wish I had money to buy food.

"I'm going to go running after this. I hope I don't dry out like last time and choke on the air. I wish I had come earlier. I wish the gym was open until 7. I wish (insert The Idiots name) would just call me. I wish he would ask me out...'No, I couldn't possibly make it until 7 at the earliest..." (said in my voice). 'Okay, well 7 will have to work, I will pick you up at your house then' (said in his voice)...Look at that man's leg muscles; he's all sinewy. A man's leg muscles are the window to my heart. I wonder if a cross section of his thigh would look like that healthy man's thigh cross section picture I saw on Pinterest a few weeks ago?..That man kinda has a mullet. 10 more minutes..." Insert a lot of day dreaming about spending time with The Idiot.

Cool down. "I feel good. I'm going to blog about this. So what if I have nothing to do tonight. I am going to go running, it will make me feel better. Should I call The Idiot up? I keep saying 'This is the last time,' but then I give in and text him or fb him anyway...stupid Ensign article about that lady not giving up on her husband..."
 
So yeah, crazy town. CRAZY TOWN. That's why I keep at least 85% of my thoughts inside, little did you know based on how much I talk. I love my life. I think I'm a happy person, but sometimes the journey to peace of mind and happiness includes some unhappy thoughts. Don't deny that your brain goes to crazy town on a minute-by-minute schedule. Please don't comment things like, "But you look so great!" Please don't tell me The Idiot is an idiot. And above all, please don't tell people I listen to dubstep or techno.

Update and a little rant

First, a little update. Life is pretty good. I got a job at Jo-Ann Fabric and Crafts, and so far I like it a lot!

I was called as the 1st counselor in the Relief Society.

Okay, when I started this I thought there would be more to say...yay summer!

Time for the rant. Once again, I am annoyed with men, big surprise. I am just tired of guy friends who think I'm their activity vending machine. I'm tired of guys who think it's my job to provide them with entertainment or a social outlet every few weeks, or when they feel like it. I'm tired of feeling like an idiot because having a friendship, or more, with some guys is like throwing gifts at a brick wall, and I'm the idiot throwing a cake (that it took me 3 hours to make) at a brick wall...

I'm tired of guys who want, but give nothing in return. 

 I'm tired of worrying about who initiated communication last.

 I'm tired of not knowing if it's:

A. Disinterest

B. Flakiness/general being a man-ness

C. Defense mechanisms

D. Fear/confusion/him being a pussy

 Everywhere I go I'm a wheel, more recently I was a 9th wheel.

 I hate feeling like there's nothing I can do about it.

I hate that I miss him.

But I guess I should try to end this on a positive note.

I love life. I love swimming. I love my nieces. I love my friends. I love black olives. I love playing the guitar poorly. I love avocados. I love riding my bike. I love my whole house! CLAP!

MY BUTT!

She was...

Lately I've been thinking about when I die and what will be said of me. Now don't worry, I don't plan on dieing anytime soon, these thoughts have come from reading the Book of Mormon and thinking about family history work.

When I go on walks, runs, or bike rides I look around and see perfect yards everywhere. My landlord is constantly working on the yard (perk for me!), my neighbors are ANAL about having the lawn mowed to perfection, and everywhere I go I see flowers being planted and fences being painted. It makes me think about when I have a house one day. I think it's great for people who enjoy working in their yards. It's wonderful excersize and can be quite enjoyable work, but I can't help but think...

when I'm dead and gone no one will care what my yard looked like.

No one ever puts, "Her lawn was always trimmed perfectly to 3/4 inch, and her hedges were never out of place," in obituatiaries. They might mention that someone was a master gardener, or an interior decorator, but life is about people and what they do, it's not about the things they have.

With that in mind I started thinking about what I would like people to say about me.

I want it to be said that...

 I was a great mother

I was a splendid wife

I wrote and illustrated a great childrens book (or two)

I was a devoted Latter-Day Saint

I made people laugh

I cared about people

I was a good teacher

I was fun

I was a great artist

But most of all, regardless of what people will say about me, I want to know that I fought the good fight, that I never gave up, and that I remained faithful until the end.

Also it would be nice if people thought I was a snazzy dresser.