all the posts from love, brittani have been transferred to this here blog for documenting purposes only. my real blog is still at love-brittani.blogspot.com. go there to follow me now.
have a lovely day!
xoxo, britt.
11.30.2012
all i know is you said hello, your eyes look like coming home.
he has a smile that tends to light up his entire face, and the entire world. it's contagious, that smile. when he laughs, it isn't just a little chuckle, his entire body gets into it. he throws his head back in a way that makes everyone smile. he tortures me, really. he looks at me in a way that makes me wonder what in the world it would feel like to kiss him and when he even bumps me, it leaves a trail of fire. goodness, that boy. honestly, though, i can't even get up the nerve to really talk to him. maybe it's because he's so perfect. yeah, that's probably why. i don't even know what to say, where to start, what to begin with. until i think of how to spark something, i'll continue hoping he sits by me at dinner and i'll resume thinking of that smile. oh, the smile.
i'm hopeless.
life, lately.
one. let me introduce you to my best friend, sydney. she makes me laugh when i'm really sad and we eat brownies together when we're homesick. people ask us if we're sisters and we just laugh cause we'd be fine if we were. we watch the walking dead and tell secrets like we're five. i love her to death.
two. i've been watching the sex in the city marathon all day today. judge me.
three. we swim cal berkely in the morning, and yes, they have been national champions for the past two years.
four. sydney, paolina and i are being the kardashian sisters for halloween. our upperclassmen are trying to teach us how to give the facade that we have boobs.
five. college is great, my friends are lovely, and life is better when you're hanging out the car window.
have a lovely weekend, everyone.
christ's infinite atonement.
this is what i needed. maybe it's what you need, too.
It is my testimony that many of the deepest regrets of tomorrow can be prevented by following the Savior today. If we have sinned or made mistakes—if we have made choices that we now regret—there is the precious gift of Christ’s Atonement, through which we can be forgiven. We cannot go back in time and change the past, but we can repent. The Savior can wipe away our tears of regret and remove the burden of our sins. His Atonement allows us to leave the past behind and move forward with clean hands, a pure heart, and a determination to do better and especially to become better.
-president uchtdorf
it was enchanting to meet you.
i read all our facebook messages today. every single typed line exchanged from the day we met until the day you left. i thought it may give me some closure, something to tell me that everything would be okay. my eyes finally skimmed the last line of our messaging from last september and i closed my computer silently. i hugged my legs and put my chin on my knees because i knew, with every single fiber of my being, that i was wrong. i had nothing to take closure in because the last message i wrote was an apology for missing your final call.
i know the words i want to tell you, but i don't know how. i don't understand how to do it right, how to make things right. i suppose i'll begin here, the place you cannot see. maybe someday, somehow i'll build the courage to show you this message, but for now i feel safer typing it away from you. for now, i'll keep it to me.
i just want to tell you i'm sorry. completely, overwhelmingly, incandescently sorry. i was selfish and i was wrong. when i read your words "i know you have him, but remember i'm always here for you." i died inside because, through everything, you're all i want. and through each taylor swift song, each love movie, each wedding video i watch, it's still you. it always has been you. since the day we met at that rugby game years ago, my mind hasn't altered. it's you. through everything in my life, you haven't wavered. through everything, you've been my steady.
and now, for once in my life, i have no idea where to go from here. all i know is when i hear taylor swift sing the words "please don't be in love with someone else, please don't have somebody waiting for you" my heart wrenches a little bit because it's me and it's you. and through everything that has happened, and through each lesson i have learned, you're still my man.
let's pretend it's valentine's day so i don't sound as completely cheesy when i ask:
please (oh please oh please) be mine.
the horror.
the peterson heritage center: the dread of each college freshman living in kitchen-less dorm rooms. it may not look too terrible from the outside, but once forced into habit on someone, the hc turns into a horrific dungeon of nutrition-less, questionably-edible, severely overpriced food. sadly, us freshman have no choice in the matter. we pay our hard earned cash for this garbage, we may as well eat it.
and so, after a solid three months of feeling like death after each meal (i know, i'm a slow discoverer), i have decided to create a diet for myself. not a losing weight diet, you know, but like an i-don't-want-to-feel-like-my-insides-are-falling-out-anymore type of diet.
i began today with an experiment. i downloaded the intelligent, and may i mention one hundred percent free, myfitnesspal app onto my cell phone and started logging my food. after loading my breakfast results i stared in complete and utter horror. for breakfast i ingested a total of 1027 calories. and yet, this isn't the worst of it. i had ingested 40 grams of fat, 439 milligrams of cholesterol, 1386 milligrams of sodium, and 142 grams of carbohydrates. horror, horror i tell you.
no wonder i feel like someone just wrung my intestines out. so, in conclusion, i will be spending the next couple hours of my life researching cafeteria eating and how not to die from this stuff. please, please. if you have any advice or specifically lovely articles for me to read, i would definitely appreciate it.
have a lovely sunday, everyone, and stay away from cafeteria food while you can.
lyrics to help you.
when we were younger we thought
everyone was on our side
then we grew a little bit
and romanticized the time i saw
flowers in your hair
it takes a boy to live
it takes a man to pretend he was there
so then we grew a little and knew a lot
and now we demonstrated it to the cops
and all the things we said
we were self-assured
cause it's a long road to wisdom
but it's a short one to be ignored
be in my eyes
be in my heart
be in my eyes
and be in my heart
so now i think that i could
love you back
and i hope it's not too late cause you're so attractive
and the way you move
i won't close my eyes
it takes a man to live
it takes a woman to make him compromise
be in my eyes
be in my heart
be in my eyes
and be in my heart.
flowers in your hair - the lumineers
and then comes saturday.
sometimes our coach makes us roll around in the mud after practice, just because he can.
welcome to the university of utah swimming and diving, folks, where it never, ever, ever gets boring.
scripture sunday.
"for god hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
2 timothy 1:7
i make a lot of mistakes.
sometimes it's hard realizing that the choices you're making are not taking you to the place you want to go. i have realized, lately, how terribly far from perfect i am. i make a lot of mistakes. and, trust me, i mean a lot. but i've realized, along with the harsh reality that i make plenty of mistakes, that the point of life isn't about the mistakes you've made, but what you do with your mistakes. i've made plenty of choices that i would say i'd take back in a heartbeat, but then i realize i wouldn't have received the lesson from them if i could take them back. maybe i'm not making sense and maybe i sound crazy, but i'm thankful for my mistakes. they have forced me to learn, and they have forced me to grow.
so here i am, my first two weeks of college and a lot of mistakes under my belt, and i am vowing to change. i will be the brittani i know i am, i will stand up for what i believe in no matter who it is against, i will fight for my values, and my morals, and my beliefs. i will stay virtuous and be consistently true to myself. i will not ruin what i am and what i have built for myself for the past eighteen years. because, you know what? no matter what the world tells me, i am great. i am something rare. and although everyone is telling me that "it won't hurt" and that i'm "inexperienced," i know that someday i want to find someone that also brushed off the "it won't hurt" and i want to find that someone who is just as "inexperienced" as i am. we "inexperienced" are rare. and we are worth it. i'm no longer afraid of being that rarity, instead i'm proud. be proud with me. we can start a pure revolution. we need to remember that our mistakes make us stronger. let's look forward to a better future and never dwell on the past. life is meant to be lived forward, not backwards.
be bigger. be better. stand taller. stay purer.
the now.
my name is brittani and i hate the unknown. i wouldn't say i'm someone who is afraid of the unknown, no, i'm not afraid. i'm just that girl who needs to always know her next move. each morning (usually in math class, whoops.) i plan my day. embarrassingly enough, i even jot in when and where i am going to eat my meals. i like knowing, i like planning.
since i was a little girl, i had a plan. it was absolutely and completely foolproof. i would find the love of my life my senior year of high school. he would go on a mission and return home with honor. i would tie a precious bow around all the letters we had written in the past twenty four months, he would propose to me, and we would have the most fairytale wedding to ever exist.
this plan began unfolding wonderfully in my senior year of high school. i met the boy i thought was the absolute love of my life and he got ready to serve a mission. only a few months later, my plan came crashing down on top of me. it smothered me, and i couldn't get up for air. what was supposed to be my wonderful fairlytale had in fact turned into a tear-filled nightmare.
to this day, people still ask me if i'm okay, and the reality of it is i only feel one emotion now. gratitude. i am so very thankful the situation played out as it did. there isn't a day that goes by i'm not overflowing with gratitude for the opportunities i have and for the place i am now with my life. i suppose you could say it wasn't meant to be, and although i strongly agree, there are many more factors that went into the situation as a whole. we weren't right for each other. not one bit. we have different goals, and much different ambitions. we are going much different places in life. even now, our choices have put us on completely diverging paths. together would have resulted in a very negative consequence for us both, and i truly believe our lives would not be as happy as they would be apart; now or in the future.
so here i am, for the first time in my life completely content with the unknown. i don't know where i'm going to meet him, or where, or even how. i don't know if he will be blonde or brown, if his eyes will be blue or green. i don't know his major, his occupation, his origin. all i know is he's out there, somewhere he's out there. and right now he's making decisions that will lead him to me, and i am making decisions that will lead me to him.
someday, i'll meet my prince charming.
and i promise you, it will be the most fairytale wedding to ever exist.
hello from my new home.
i have a lot of throw pillows and string lights over my window. our living room looks like a jail cell because all of us are too poor to purchase decorations. everything is new and strange, but my room has the cold familiarity my highland house had and the same music plays in my room. my roommates are quickly becoming my family and i've realized my team will always stand by me and protect me. i have pudding stacked in my refrigerator, bread on top, and my water bottle on the counter. this place is small, but i like it.
good afternoon from my new home.
home.
i move out in six days. the fact that i'm leaving hasn't really hit me yet. you know that moment where your brain knows something's going to happen, yet your heart doesn't want to face it, yet? yeah, that's where i am right now. people tell me i'm afraid, but i know that's not it. no, i'm not afraid. i'm ready. i'm ready for this entirely new stage of life. i know i am. but my readiness will never change the fact that this, where i'm laying right now, is my home.
my home is where my family is. it's where i wake up in the morning and hear my mom returning from her morning bike ride. home is where connor sings in the shower and nathan flexes in the mirror. home is where papa makes us breakfast burritos and spatsa on sundays. it's where mom cleans bathrooms on tuesday's, where the kids clean their rooms on saturday, where i do my laundry far less than i should. home is where i check in for curfew, where we return to after sunday beach cruiser rides, where we lay when we're sick. home is where my daddy, my momma, my nathan, my connor and i always, always support each other. my home is safe. my home is love. my home is where my family is.
home is where the heart is.
photo credit.
home is where the heart is.
photo credit.
excuses, excuses.
well, it's apparent i'm steadily worsening at writing on this blog. i know it's terribly cliche to use the excuse of "my life is so busy right now" but call me cliche cause i'm using it. the past couple weeks haven't given me even one moment to think. let me back my excuse by dividing my crazy life into the four most prevalent time consuming categories as of late.
(one) swimming. the university of utah's natatorium is presently closed, so coach has been rewarding us with extremely painful on-land exercises. i love it with my whole heart, even though i wasn't aware my body was capable of producing so much sweat. after practice i ice my legs, eat a lot of protein, and open my computer... which brings us to number two.
(two) an incredibly cute boy. i know, i know. you're judging me right now. i don't even care. he lives in arizona (which is way too far away for my liking) and we talk a lot. it really is worth an entire post on its own to explain our little background, but the moral of the story is: we talk a lot and he's moving up to salt lake city in six days. which brings us to number three.
(three) moving out. yes, i'm moving out in seven days and i haven't purchased a single thing for my dorm. it's okay, i'm only freaking out a little bit. i make lists all day long of things i need to do in the next week, but nothing has been checked off yet (even my purchase undies checkmark) because of number four.
(four) aunt's wedding. oh yeah, i forgot to mention, my aunt is getting married. between bridal showers and bachelorette parties, dress fittings and shoe finding, things begin getting crazy fairly quickly.
moral of the story: life is busy. i'll get back to regular posting as soon as i possibly can.
i love you all.
britt.
awake my soul.
but lend me your heart and i'll just let you fall
lend me your eyes i can change what you see
but your soul you must keep, totally free.
-mumford & sons
photo credit
summer nights.
i love these two boys with my whole entire heart.
good thing families are forever, right?
gossamer.
my definite pick for best album of the year.
passion pit, you make my heart swoon.
listen to these. right now.
(one) take a walk
(two) i'll be alright
(three) carried away
(four) constant conversations
(five) mirrored sea
(six) cry like a ghost
(seven) on my way
(eight) hideaway
(nine) two veils to hide my face
(ten) love is greed
(eleven) it's not my fault, i'm happy
(twelve) where we belong
(thirteen) american blood (only available if you pre-ordered the album)
when given pen and a paper.
i started a new journal today. it's plain. it is a black and white composition notebook and i write in only black pen. you learn a lot about yourself, i've discovered, scrawling out everything on your mind without the fear that someone will read it and judge you for it. it's liberating, actually, to be able to just let it all out. let every single thing on my mind go and organize all my thoughts on paper. i'm fairly certain that in today's entry alone, i solved the world's problems. imagine what a full journal will be like. world domination, i suppose.
so here's your challenge, i guess. write in a journal. get all your feelings out. write what you think, what you believe, what you want. just put it in a book, on a paper, on a napkin. write it out. the solution to some of your problems only require two things:
pen and paper.
i mean, who wouldn't choose him?
ten things i love about jef.
by: brittani finlayson
one- he's beautiful. look at him.
two- what a sweetheart. i mean seriously.
three- he's just adorable with kids. let's throw on some pink goggles and go swimming.
four- he knows how to be silly.
five- his tattoo placement. how much more attractive can he get?
six- the fact that after he proposes, he says "you're a babe" to his new fiance. ah.
seven- he's from salt lake city. my city. represent.
eight- his tweets are really funny.
nine- his entire business revolves around humanitarian work.
ten- he's jef holm
one thing i hate about jef.
by: brittani finlayson
one- i can't marry him anymore
i think i cried during the finale tonight, it was just so beautiful.
no makeup and some sleepy eyes.
i always wonder what people look like when they wake up, so this morning i decided to show the world what i look like when i arise. so cute i can't even stand myself (sarcasm).
how to:
1. wake up
2. sit up from and pull your laptop onto your bed
3. don't touch your hair or your face or anything like that
4. take a picture and shamelessly post it online
5. feel liberated because the entire world now knows the natural you
6. congratulate yourself and feel free to call yourself an eco-friendly-hippie for the rest of the day
what do you look like when you wake up?
comment with your link if you reblog! i want to see my world of hippies.
a true man.
my father is a true man. he is kind, loving, and genuine. my father is a hard worker. a harder worker than anyone i know. not only does he provide for his family, he gives them everything. my father isn't afraid to be emotional, although he blames it on the 'dust' when he cries. my father is strong, he's brave, he's fearless. my father knows how to love his family, to respect my mother, to follow his gut. my father is funny; hilarious, actually. i don't know anybody who can make me laugh as much as he can. my father thinks of others first, and himself last. my father makes mistakes, and apologizes when he's wrong. he's humble although he has plenty to be proud about. he's real, never fake; kind, never rude; and honest, never deceiving. my father knows what he knows, and will never deny it. my father is an example to many by his actions; by the way he lives. he puts family first, always, and each of us know his love for us. i know my father will always hug me when i need a hug, and will always listen when i need an ear. he never judges; i can talk to him about absolutely anything. i love him. more than he will ever know. my father isn't just my father, he's my daddy.
the world needs more men like my daddy.
he's shown me true men exist.
photo credit.
i'm moving out, folks.
that's right. i'm moving away in thirty days (gasp) and i haven't done one single thing to get ready. actually, that was a lie, i cleaned a mini fridge this morning, but besides that, i'm still completely void of supplies. so here, help me out a little bit. gawk at all these adorable "hey, look at me. i'm living on my own" apartment necessities.
aren't they adorable?
let me explain.
i don't usually get all churchy-cheesy because that's not my personality. i do, however, have a very stubborn disposition and very, terribly, extremely strong beliefs. so here it is, blunt and clear. this is what i believe. scratch that, this is what i know.
i know that thomas s. monson (that adorable man up there. doesn't that face warm your heart? yeah, mine too) is a true prophet. he is the leader of our church and he and god are best friends. yep, best friends. he loves everybody on this earth and tries to give us all every tool possible to not only be happy on this earth, but to be incandescently happy for eternity. he believes in us, he has faith in us, he knows we all have divine potential. i believe in jesus christ, and i know he died for me personally. he died for every single one of us because he loves us that much. he is the one who made it possible to return to our heavenly father. he is the one that made it possible to repent for our sins and become whole and clean once more. i know he was resurrected. and because of his resurrection and his sacrifices here on earth, we are able to return home when this journey's through. i believe in god. i know he's my father and that he wants the best for me. i love him, and he loves me too. i believe in joseph smith, and i will fight for him until the bitter end. no matter what any critic says, joseph smith did see heavenly father and jesus christ, and he did restore the gospel. he translated the book of mormon through god's power. it is something i could never, ever deny. the book of mormon is true. so true i fill with love every time i read it (even if it takes me twelve times to understand a verse). i believe in eternal families, and sometimes this knowledge is all that pulls me through. i know, without a shadow of a doubt, that if i try my very best, my family can be together forever. forever and ever. my church is often criticized, but aren't all great things? my church is set on kindness, love, charity, and an all-loving god. i walk tall knowing that i have many flaws, yet my father in heaven has a perfect love for me. he sees greatness in me. he sees greatness in you.
i belong to the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints. i believe with my entire heart.
i don't know the original photo credit, but this is the website i got it from.
11.26.2012
it's true, i'm legal.
it was a wonderful birthday. thank you to all that made it great!
the good life.
visionary.
you can kiss my cheek when i say something funny if you'd like.
i'm alive.
i'm alive, i promise. i suppose i spend too much time in new york city and the swimming pool to remember blogging.
life is swell. forever swell.
life is swell. forever swell.
best parents award.
the "little present in dad's truck" ended up being a brand spanking new toyota corolla.
i'm in love with her.
i have the best parents in the whole entire world.
love you mom and dad!
welcome to the new age.
hi, my name is brittani and i'm a high school graduate.
rock on, brethren, rock on.
a little adventure.
along with graduation each year comes a black light dance in our third gym. it gets crazy and there are cops everywhere and faculty becomes overly paranoid due to hundreds of high school seniors (lame). in front of our school lies a pedestal that, according to senior tradition, you must be kissed on to become a "true knight." so, obviously, after the dance each student rushes to the pedestal, hoping to be knighted. boys pull up girls and kiss them through all the catcalls and ooh-la-la's. it's one of the traditions that, although silly, is necessary. it's something you just can't leave high school without doing.
last night was the dance. and last night was the knighting. one football player jumped on the pedestal and kissed his girl, then another, then suddenly we were surrounded by cop cars. an adorable boy grabbed my arm and said, "let's go get knighted." as he pulled me toward the front, a cop jumps on the pedestal and starts threatening arrest. now, high school students aren't about to listen to the cops right before they graduate. i mean, it's not like we were having sex on the pedestal. but all policemen's joy in life comes from taking away the joy from others. tickets were handed out, arrest was threatened, eight cop cars were called, there was yelling and pushing and cuss words, and, through it all, i'm still not a true knight.
awesome.
my brother.
sometimes i stalk my brother's facebook and come across pictures like these.
thank you, nathan, for putting balloons in your pants and keeping life real.
love you, bud.
swim.
this is an essay my dear friend, daryk childs, wrote. i couldn't help but share the pure genius of this entire project. each letter, word, and phrase were filled with wit and tact, and it is about a subject very dear to my heart (obviously). enjoy! p.s. each word is true. i am a witness, here and now.
Most people aren’t entirely familiar with who and what swimmers are. Maybe that is the glory of it all; taking first in state, or even qualifying for state, and not being announced over the schools intercom system, while the poor sets of teams who couldn’t even place in Region do get recognition. Yes—that is part of our sports greatness—a championship that can be held in a swimmers own heart, for him and his team only, to be recognized by no one.
Obviously we can’t pinpoint the success of swimming by the team earned and individually earned achievements; no… but we can attempt to categorize it with its’ work ethic. Sure, as a child plays sports such as basketball and baseball they can feel great about practicing a few times per week. After all, recreation sports can’t do anything but practice two-three times a week. But as more hours are assigned into your schedule, the more you progress.
As a child, practicing daily was nice for the majority of the team, we could wake up early in the morning before school and not have to worry about showering! The thought was relaxing. When we eventually had practices after school for two+ hours each and every day we would never have to figure out what to do if we actually had free time instead of practice time. What a relief that lack of brain power was for our agony filled mind. As we grew older and our practice schedules became much more invigorating, life only got easier. Instead of having practices before school for a year, and later having daily practices afterschool for two years; we all moved up to a more prestigious swim team who practiced with consistency both before AND after school, as well as Saturdays. I mean, instead of waking up to do yard work for an hour or two on Saturday morning; we could now go to the pool even earlier in the day to swim, run, and weight train for 3+ hours instead. Oh the many lawns I saved myself from mowing… yet this isn’t all. Imagine if those 6 hours per day we spent training each day during the school year had not been so time laboring. We would have to worry about the nuisance that a social life brings to everyone wrapped up in it. A social life? Yes those are unheard of for us. Those who don’t have to worry about the 5am-6pm schedule in-turn have to worry about what they are going to do with their time, who they are going to hang out with, and all the drama caught up with the social aspect of a high school career. I am so happy I have never had to worry about this.
My peers have always praised summer for its late nights and extremely late mornings. I pity them and recognize that they have it all wrong. Summer is—in reality—the opportunity to sleep into 6am rather than 4:30am, and the opportunity to go to bed before the sun has even set. Summer has an untold story, and unfortunately the other side of life will never get to know of the early mornings and early nights side of the latter.
Now wait; before anyone gets upset, I DO recognize that sports—such as football—have two a day practices once in a while during their short reigning season. I celebrate your opportunity to practice as we do. But obviously you don’t get to do it all year round. You’re truly missing out.
Arguments can be arisen that each and everyone’s sport is better. Cheerleaders have argued that they flip more times in a day than most humans do in their entire lifetime; luckily for them they don’t have to bear the burden of that truth. They do maybe 50 flips a day consisting of handsprings and what not. Yet in an average practice session we flip around 200-300 times in order to swim from wall to wall. Us swimmers can take that false argument from you, cheerleaders, don’t worry about it.
The supposed marching band—who claim themselves as a sport—argue that no way does anyone have a larger lung capacity than the instrumentalists who have to continually blow and make sounds into their metal piece of art. They can rest assured that we swimmers can also take their false assumption out of their hands because rather than breathing in and out to blow an instrument, we can’t breathe at all. We need to hold our breath every stroke, every single underwater that takes us across the lengths of the pool; just to make it through practice. Don’t worry; you guys don’t have to worry about the publicity of that truth anymore. We will take it from you as well.
I’ve heard baseball and football players claim that they run more than anyone excluding cross country. I mean, those short bursts of ladders and sprints must add up eventually¸ right? But it was nice of you to consider cross country in your [false premise], yet naturally you forgot to remember that swimmers run on average three miles per practice, sometimes more; both long distance—like cross country—along with ladders and sprints, like the rest of the painless world. You say you didn’t know we run? Oh yes, swimmers do both water and dryland exercises. Understandably it probably takes more effort to focus on getting one foot in front of the other, rather than having to do the same but also having water talent to deal with as well.
I recognize the difficulties in the popular “athletic” activities. I don’t think I—personally—would ever be able to deal with the crowds of unaware fans; I mean, if I ever had someone who spectated my meet and wasn’t related to any of the people swimming, I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of fame. Nor could I ever imagine what I would do with 32 extra hours a week of pure free time. Sure a social life could be contributed to the list of options, but imagine what we would have to deal with; drama, love affairs, who hates who, and so on. I respect those who use their time for such a laboring activity.
Maybe one day, though, other fitness fellows will recognize that we doexpound our every effort into making ourselves better, contrary to popular belief. But just imagine if we wasted all of that literally precious energy trying to let the whole world know that WE are best, that WE are superior, that WE do what others can’t; because we do practice what others could never handle or dream of, and we are the most superior. Although it is true—all of these things—letting people know it would be exhausting! Arguing with the close-minded about who is the best. I could never imagine having to do that AND practice eleven times a week, the fatigue of such a task would be overwhelming! I wouldn’t be able to wake up if the weekend ever came. I’d be so tired from convincing people that I am the greatest. So rather I am just going to let people stagger around life without the truth of which sport is truly best. Because I am too busy working for what is best.
love and stuff.
i'll be blunt. i don't know love. i used to think i did, think that for a girl this young, i knew an awful lot about love. reminiscing on these last eighteen years lately has brought me to the realization i know absolutely nothing. i love my family, yes, i love my family with everything i have. i know that kind of love, but the kind of love i'm speaking of is the kind people write novels about, the kind that has glued my grandparents together for over sixty years, the kind of love that i see on my own pinterest wedding board. yes, of that kind of love, i know nothing.
i suppose i'd like to believe love can be defined so easily as each facebook status defines it. they say true love is when a boy holds your hand in the parking lot and kisses you on the forehead for no reason whatsoever. yes, i wish it was that simple. unfortunately i've had a cute boy hold my hand in the parking lot. he's kissed me on the forehead for no reason at all, he's written me love letters, he's told me he'll love me forever. he wasn't love.
so here's the definition of love from a girl who has experienced too much of what love isn't. love isn't coarse. it's not drunken sex, lust, or massage oil. love is gentle. it's pulling the weeds as he's mowing the lawn, it's lemonade on the back porch as the sun goes down, it's laugh lines and smile wrinkles. it's hard work and some heartache. it's fighting and screaming and yelling and long nights without sleep. it's the knowledge that even with the fighting and screaming and yelling and long nights without sleep, he's the only one you want, forever and for always. it's having the good times far more than the bad times. love is cuddling in bed until you're late for work and treat runs to the grocery store in the evening. it's playing the piano while he gently lays on the sofa with his eyes closed. love is when he makes you feel good about yourself, makes you want to be the best you you can be. he grows with you, you grow with him, with love, you can take on the world together. love isn't comparisons. it's not the notebook, it's not your slutty love novel. love is yours and love is his and love is ours. he's the person who makes you the most you you could possibly be. love is you, it's me, it's us.
i don't know much about love. it's true. but one thing i do know is that when i find it, i'll know it. and i know it will be hard, but i also know it will be the most worth it thing in all the world.
what's your definition of love?
chapters.
for ten years i have called this team my family, and my head coach my second father. many times i've wondered how i was lucky enough to have the opportunity to work with these wonderful, amazing people. many of them have changed my life, and i'm forever grateful for the relationships that have been created.
i don't think many understand the relationship i have had with my coach, dee, ever since he began instructing me. there is something about this man that makes you want to be a better person, makes you want to be kinder, and sweeter, and stronger. he's the man that you would never want to disappoint. my love for swimming comes from dee. he taught me, and all of my teammates, through love, patience, and understanding. i will never forget our specific instructions before each meet, "we need to be good people, then we can be fast swimmers." he took me to my first state meet, he entered me into championship races all over the country and helped me calm down when i felt overwhelmed. he has pages upon pages of my splits from each practice and each meet, he knows my goals and has made them personal for himself. he told me i deserved better than the boys i was dating, he made me feel good about myself. dee helped me in my collegiate pursuit, he squirted me with his water bottle when i was late to the pool, he cried about war stories he loved and horse movies that inspired him. dee is an amazing man, and i am forever grateful to have swam under such a legend.
dee, congratulations on your coaching job at brigham young university. you deserve it more than anyone out there. they are far more lucky to have you than they realize. thank you for so many wonderful years, and more importantly, thank you for the impact you have made on my life. thank you for being there for me always, not only in a swimming sense, but in a life sense as well. i will always look back on my age group years and remember the coach that made them great. love you, coach. and i always will.
goodbye hast, goodbye coach. it's officially time for this wonderful chapter of life to come to a close, but i could not be more excited for the adventures on the next page.
laundry day.
i haven't done my laundry for a good, solid three weeks. is it bad that i'd rather take photos of my embarrassingly large laundry pile than actually put it in the washing machine? probably. do i care? not in the slightest. kudos to everyone who does their laundry on time and according to schedule, but rock on to those like me who prefer wearing old hoodies to washing your pants.
laundry? shmaundry.
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