11.30.2011

stream of consciousness.

my best friend in the world leaves in five days, but i'm trying to get that out of my mind until he leaves.  oof, it's a harder task than it may seem.  to rid the thoughts of two years without him, i've been occupying my mind with the following:

1. i planned a swim team christmas party.  hecks yes.
2. a lot of sociology.  yes.  in the last six minutes i've written a paper on death and grief, went over a fiance checklist (despite the fact that i'm not getting married anytime soon), and taken a quiz on how healthy my relationship boundaries are--and don't worry, they're prime.
3. stalked blogs.  i somehow came across the most adorable blog in the world.  if you'd like to check it out, which i know you would, go here.
4. thought about my friday evening, which is going to be good.  you should probably be jealous now.
5. possibly eavesdropped just a tiny bit on the special souls' conversation next to me about being rich.  oh children.
6. pretty sure that's about it.

a thought for the road:

you're the best.

b.

11.25.2011

ten days.


you're leaving.  you're leaving in ten days for two entire years.  it scares me a little bit.  maybe it even makes my heart skip a couple beats and it maybe possibly makes me feel like i have an eyelash stuck on my eyeball.  that's two years without you. which is really long.  but i'm really really trying to make it seem really short.  twenty-four fast sundays, right? every sunday feels like a fast sunday.  that's only one hundred and four weeks... which isn't too many, right? right. right. right. this isn't too bad, right? oh yeah, right. we can do this, we're good. i'm good, you're good, we're good. we can do this.

all i want to say is you make me happy.  it's the way you hold my hand and brush back my hair. it's the way you crookedly smile and laugh with me.  it's the way you grab my hand and waltz with me in the kitchen.  its the way you tackle me to the floor and wrestle me.  it's the way you tickle me and pinch me and it's the way you crack funny-occasionally-sexual jokes at me.  it's the way you get all my weird jokes and the way you answer every question no matter how awkward it should be.  it's the way we are never awkward around each other and it's the way you love me. and the way i love you.

you're my best friend. for real. and i'm not just saying that because it may or may not seem like the most correct thing to say at this time.  i mean it. i really do.  you're my best friend in this entire, giant universe.  out of the nine billion people in the world, you are my best friend. yes. you. and i wouldn't trade what we have for anything.  even a bajillion dollars. even six bajillion dollars, even an infinite amount of fourteen-zillion dollar bills. yeah, i'd choose you.

you're the best. i heart you...

love, b.

p.s. we're gon get real good at letter writing.
p.p.s. the date above is wrong. i don't exactly know why. this was written november 27, 2011. thank you and have a nice day.

11.23.2011

la de da la da da de de da la da.



maybe i like to be with you.  maybe i like that every word that comes out of your mouth makes me laugh or maybe it's your hugs that nobody elses' can compare to. maybe it's how your sometimes hat hair and my sometimes really curly hair compliment each other.  maybe it's that i'm the only one that gets your jokes and you're the only one that gets mine.  maybe it's the way you can anger me like nobody else can, and somehow we're still best friends.  maybe it's the late night phone calls or maybe it's the eating and eating and eating because neither of us ever get full.  maybe it's the downloading of each others' itunes or the conversations about our future.  maybe it's your dedication, or maybe it's how laid back you are all the time.  maybe it's the way you make me smile whenever i'm around you or maybe it's how you make me feel like the most special girl in the world because that's how you treat me.  maybe it's the way you've grown up in the past two weeks and maybe it's the way i've grown up in the past two weeks.  maybe it's the blog posts that don't make any sense to anybody but me and you or maybe it's the long car drives up the canyon.  maybe it's that one time we kissed underwater or maybe it was that one time we chased each other around state when we were young.  maybe i don't know why i like to be with you so much. maybe. possibly. probably.

all i know is that i do.

b.

11.21.2011


ahhhh.

picture taken by hailey haughen.




cutest. thing. ever.

11.19.2011

find me in the galaxy.


punch to the face, punch to the face, punch to the face.

today i cried; today i cried a lot.  i cried because things are really different now then they ever have been and i cried because when i eagerly ripped open that letter in the mail and started in on the first paragraph, my brain turned to oatmeal.  my eyes skimmed over those words, my voice got caught in my throat, and my eyes stung with the hot saline solution threatening to erupt any moment from the two holes in my face.  i looked at the meaningless scribbles of ink on the paper that faked understanding and kindness, the lines and curves and stupidity that mimicked any type of love, the meaningless everything, and for a moment, nothing in this world was even real anymore. it wasn't real. i wasn't real.  everything was just an act. 

nothing's real anymore.  everything is a show.  i can't care about anything or else i'm weak.  i can't accomplish anything or i'm arrogant.  i can't say anything or i'm wrong.  well, you know what? i'm sick of it. i'm brittani and i'm real.  i cried when he told me he'd come and he didn't.  sometimes i look in the mirror and feel insignificant and ugly.  i am oftentimes insecure.  i miss my old best friend so terribly it hurts.  i don't believe i'll ever get married.  it stings that my grandmother doesn't know anything about me. i spend hours writing letters i will never send. i love going tanning.  my mother is my absolute best friend.  my heart ached all day today.  i'm terrified of tomorrow.  i have a hard time focusing.  i believe in myself more than anybody else does.  i write weekly goals that don't get accomplished.  i sleep on my stomach.  i have extremely curly hair.  i wear leggings as pants sometimes. i have millions of regrets.  i believe life is never fair. i hate cats so much (sorry indie people). i always have the urge to key someone's car. i never proofread my writing. i cry more than your average person.  the future doesn't scare me.  i love my family. i'm real.

please, don't send me another letter.  please get out of my life.  i'm tired of plans that don't matter to anybody but me.

b.

11.18.2011

one hundred.


happy post one hundred!
thank you to all my friends and followers and such for listening to all my rambling.  i love you all.

{one hundred things i'm thankful for}
one a day.

1. best friends.  last night i went to the midnight premiere of breaking dawn with one of my best friends.  it was so fun not only because the movie was insanely cheesy/awesome, but because i was with someone i'm so close to.  me and this girl have the strangest friendship, and i think anybody that knows us agrees.  we fight like siblings, but she is one of my very best friends.  she listens when i'm having a really bad day and she understands when things are tough.  she brings me starbucks when she knows i'm sad and she writes me letters for no reason at all.  we've been through so much together.  through style changes, through different men, through swimming and dying, through everything.  she taught me how to surf and she taught me what having a friend's like.  she's the best.  i love you, rache.

b.

11.16.2011

swimming.


swimming is a sport that survives and thrives between hundredths of seconds.  it is a sport of finger-tip touches.  it is a sport where thousands of meters can come down to thousandths of seconds.  every time you hit the pool, the clock is ticking.  are you faster  today than yesterday? are you stronger?

11.10.2011

actions, my dear.


words. they're only letters, sounds that echo in your brain, syllables that stumble out your throat.  they're only lines on a paper and curves you draw with your pencil.  sometimes they mean so much and sometimes they mean absolutely nothing at all.  i have come to the conclusions that words don't mean anything without an action holding its hand.  the phrase "i love you" means absolutely nothing until it is shown and the word "cancer" doesn't bother anybody until they see it happening.  words aren't anything.  it's the hollow "i'm sorry" that takes away all the validity of the apology.  nobody is sorry until they try to fix it.

i sat at my table last night with a red pen in my hand and a contract lying on the table.  looking up, i saw the people who actually care, the people who actually love me. i saw eighty of my best friends.  i thought about the people in my life who say they love me, who say they will always be there for me, and through all the faces in the crowd, i didn't see any of theirs.  i saw the people who actually cared, the people who actually love me, not the people who proclaim to.  i'm so thankful for the people in my life that show their love by their actions.

my cousin came from salt lake by himself because he knew it was important to me.
my aunts and uncles and cousins drove thirty-five minutes at night because they knew it was important to me.
my friends came from homework, from meets, from young womens, from work because they knew it was important to me.
my family made cake and brought pizza because they knew it was important to me.
my best friend came right when she could because she knew it was important to me.
my friend came before voice lessons because she knew it was important to me.
my neighbors from my old ward took their time to come over because they knew it was important to me.
my uncle with a brain tumor tried to come but was so sick he couldn't, but he sent me a long, loving text because he knew it was important to me.

it's so funny to me how the people who make such a big deal about the "sorry's"  and the "i love you's" can't even do something so simple because they know it's important to me.  it's the people who don't necessarily say they love me, but show it that make the difference in my life.

thank you to everyone who supports me, and thank you to everyone who shows me you love me.

i couldn't ask for better friends.

i love you guys.

b.

11.09.2011

if you think you're good at something... remember: there will always be an asian kid to humiliate you.
just sayin...

b.

11.07.2011

it's beautiful.



life is beautiful. it's beautiful when the trees blow in the wind and it's beautiful when it's the perfect temperature to sit on your porch in a blanket and drink tea.  it's beautiful when the perfect song comes on or when you can sleep in past eight or when someone beautiful says your name or when you can't stop laughing.  life is beautiful when you achieve your goals, when you get something new, when you drive through the canyon.  life is always beautiful.  it's beautiful when you learn from a mistake or when you begin believing in yourself.  it's beautiful when you write something you love or read something of value.  life is beautiful when you understand something at school so well you can teach it to someone else.  it's beautiful when you decorate your christmas tree, when you ride your bike to the mailbox, when you have mail from someone you've been looking forward to hearing from.  it's beautiful when you take a nice picture, when someone gives you a compliment, when it's cuddle weather.  life's beautiful when you eat cake or go swimming, and life's beautiful when your hair actually works.  it's beautiful when you have red nails and red lipstick.  life is beautiful when you finish your homework, get an a on an assignment, drop a hard class.  life is beautiful when you help people, when you spend time with your family.  it's beautiful when you're with your best friend in the car and it's silent. and not awkward.  life is beautiful in every way. life isn't made in how much money we make, how many cars we have, or even the grades and test scores we get.  life is made in every breath, every shooting star, every daydream and every whisper.  life is made in the smile of a little boy, and in the dreams of your average human being.  we make our own life; one block, one smile, one laugh, one thought at a time.  it's not what you're given, it's what you choose to do with what you're given.

life. it's beautiful.

b.

11.06.2011

i knew nothing of romance but it was love at second sight.



you.  the boy who always told me i was unique.  i remember.  i remember the first time i "met" you.  it was through facebook and it made me feel scared because you are unbelievably attractive. you told me you were on a golf scholarship hundreds of miles from me.  i pretended not to be, but i was amazed.  i remember you telling me you were coming home to turn in your mission papers.  i remember that spirit you had, the spirit that was so strong it began to influence my life.  i remember one night, while sitting in a haunted chair in a cemetery, i received a text message from you.  i remember my heart skipping a beat when i read the words "i'm home. where are you?" i'd never met you and i was afraid, so i told you where i was then left.  i remember you telling me the next day how you had gone to that place to meet me, but i wasn't there.  i remember the first time we really met.  it was at a rugby game and i was with my little brother. i was in a purple summer dress and you were in basketball shorts and a t-shirt.  we stood awkwardly and i wondered what you were thinking, but i was too afraid to ask.  i remember going to the park with my brother and sitting on the swings for hours just talking.  i remember flying kites and rolling on the grass and eating wendy's.  i remember the first time we held hands. we were at a concert and i was so afraid.  you were the mystery man.  i remember when you finally grabbed my hand how the tinglies wouldn't stop shooting through my body.  i remember.  i remember the golfing, the golf cart racing, the putting practice, hot chocolate in the clubhouse, vacuum buying with your sisters, secret late-night phone calls about stargazing.  i remember roasting marshmallows and wearing your jacket and i remember it smelling just like you.  i remember looking up at the stars and i remember you putting your hands in my pockets to hold my hands.  i remember when you almost kissed me, but didn't.  and i remember when i almost fell in love with you, but didn't. and i remember when we were almost best friends, but weren't.  i remember everything.  and now, i ride my bike to the mailbox every single day in hopes of a letter from my best friend in washington.  i keep your letters in a secret shoe box and i read them when i'm sad.  i am constantly thinking of what to send you in your next package and every time i see a quote about a missionary or a song about love gone away, i think about you.  i think about you all the time. and i just think you should know, you amaze me.  every single day, you're amazing. 

b.

11.04.2011

some mad tunage. (yes, this is my title)

some songs i am listing to as of late... enjoy.

1. blindsided... bon iver (or anything bon iver, really)
2. train song (feat. ben gibbard)... feist
3. love vigilantes... iron & wine
4. there is a light that never goes out... the smiths
5. please, please, please let me get what i want... the smiths
6. there goes the fear... doves
7. sweet disposition... the temper trap
8. bookends... simon & garfunkel
9. standing on the shore... empire of the sun
10. tethered... sleeping at last

remember: the best kind of music is your own.

b.

11.02.2011

and the sea is just a wetter version of the sky.


today my mother told me she was glad i haven't been posting on my blog lately.  she fears that something not necessarily "politically correct" will come out.  i thought that was an irrational fear until i began writing my last five (now deleted) posts.  they started with phrases such as: "seriously? get over yourself." "warning: do not read if you're the jealous type." and "i hate girls." in the process of writing all these hateful posts, i realized that i need to get over it.  i guess i just need to be the bigger person. relax, take a breath, and realize that i only have eight more months with these humans. calm down brittani, breathe. {i just took a really deep breath.  i'm trying to keep this all rational.}

action plan:
1. i will never say anything about my accomplishments at an athletic practice again. even if it is something i have worked for my entire life.  like committing to the university of utah.  this always ends badly.
2. when someone asks how my weekend was, i will reply, "fine." this is the safest response and usually doesn't elicit a negative rumor spread. (although people are very tricky and may still find a way to twist my response negatively.)
3. when someone texts me something rude, i will not respond.  no matter what the mean person says, they don't even deserve a response.
4. i will keep to myself. i will never talk about my ideas, fun activities, or boys.  i will never ask anybody how they are doing.
5. i will not get bugged when people are talking behind my back, i don't care. i really, really, don't care. people who talk behind my back are not the people i want in my life anyways. so who cares? not me. i do not care. i do not care.

hope that doesn't start a rumor. oh heck, what am i thinking? it will.

was that rational? yes.

"great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people." 
-eleanor roosevelt

b.