Friday, August 23, 2013

Hot Pink, Leopard Print, Silky, Spandex = Recipe For Awesome

So, I was talking to my purdy friend Xan the other day and we decided that "Seriously, That Happened" will be the title of the book I write.
Here's another story in the life of Jules.
When I was a little girl, my parents worked. It was the job of my big sister to help me get ready for school, which basically meant, I was on my own. Jennie is 2 years older than me, you can't expect a 10 year old to really pay too much attention to what an 8 year old is wearing. (Even though pretty much from day one Jennie was a fashion girl and I was NOT)
One year for Halloween my mom bought my sister and me these matching, hot pink, silky leopard print costumes. Let me be more specific, hot pink, leapard print, silky, spandex pants and a solid hot pink, silky, spandexy shirt. I may be mistaken, but I believe my outfit also came with suspenders...(Side note, it was either for Halloween or this singing group Jennie and I were in)
Halloween is fine. It's halloween and I'm sure we were just DARLING.
Why I thought this would be an acceptible outfit for school, I can't really say.
So I'm at school in my hot pink, leaopard print, silky, spandexy awesomeness and I get called out of class to go to the principal's office.
Now... I was an angel as a kid, so hearing my name in class to go to the principal's office was alarming. The class "oooooo'ed" as I walked out, I remember that specifically.
I walk to the office terrified, wondering what happened, what I did wrong and how much trouble I'm in.
I walk to the desk and the secretary stands up and tells me to wait right there and goes into the back and gets a couple of other ladies.
This is what happened. They all come back in, the secretary that I first spoke to turns to the other and said, "See?" The others look me up and down, smirk and said, "That's quite the outfit..." Then the first lady said, "Ok sweetie, you can go back to class"
I was literally called out of class so that some women could check out my outfit. I was, at best, 9 years old and even then I knew I should be embarrassed.

Guess which one I am...

Thursday, August 15, 2013

I don't brag much, and here's why.

Ok, so I pride myself on the fact that I am an athletic girl. I have a good arm, I can catch, and I just love playing most sports.
That being said, I know where my strengths and weaknesses are. I know I'm not the best at any sport and I usually give the disclaimer of, "I'm not great at any one thing, but I'm decent at most"
That is until last week. I used to frequent the batting cages on my lunch break and I got to the point where I was a pretty consistent hitter. Sure they weren't going out of any parks or over any walls, but I was hitting them. I went on a date earlier this year with a guy and I'll happily admit I did much better than he did (much to his chagrin).
So last week I was talking to a super cute dude and bragging about my athletic abilities, as was he. He's big into basketball, which I suck at, and I love softball, which is not his strong suit. So we decided to go to the batting cages. I thought it was humble of him to take me to something he admittedly wasn't very good at, when the risk was that I could beat him. No guy wants the girl to be better at anything athletic!
So we go to the batting cages and he is talking about how nervous he is that he isn't going to do well, how long it's been since he's played. Telling me a story of when he was a tiny tott playing baseball, he always just accepted the walks because he didn't want to swing. Then the coach told him to just swing at the next one, which he did. Apparently had a very loose grip on the bat and just threw it with all his might. That'll stick with ya. So I understood and believed his consternation.
Being the gentleman that he is he followed the "ladies first" rule, and I walked into the cage. First ball comes and FLIES past me! "WHA??? Is this fast pitch???" I look back and he is just laughing away. Next ball, whiff... next ball... whiff... each time he laughed harder and harder. Swing and a miss time and time again. The 20 pitches end and I think I hit one of them, pretty sure it went straight up and I cowered like the girl I am for fear it was going to bop me on the head.
Once he composed himself, after several minutes, he entered the FAST pitch cage, yeah it WAS fast pitch! I sit back and await my turn to laugh. First ball, "CRACK!" outta the park, next ball, "CRACK"!With each hit his laughter continues and I just yell out, "YOU HUSTLER!!!"
To this day, he pleads innocent, that he "really didn't expect to do so well" but the fact of the matter is, I expected to do much better. We did other cages and when I did slow pitch baseball I actually did much better. He later on told me he was impressed that I kept going, that I kept swinging, "even though I was missing everything"
I'm nothing if not stubborn, competative and proud. Glad he found those to be admirable.

Note where the ball is... this was in my early days of playing softball... 'parently not much has changed.

Monday, August 5, 2013

Sometimes you get a fairy-tale...

... and sometimes you get real life.
Last October I lived a fairy-tale. Check it out.
In February I got a text from the dude telling me his girlfriend read my blog and was none too pleased. His GIRLFRIEND of over a year, mind you!!! That was the last time I spoke to him. 6 months later I get an email from his girlfriend's friend asking for details on how my going to the ball happened and what the intentions were. A week after that I got an email from his now ex-girlfriend.
In October I decided to be impulsive. I decided to be adventurous and spontaneous and allowed myself to be swept off my feet and take a risk. 9 months later I'm still dealing with the backlash of that decision.
I was told that he had been dating a girl, but it was very much not exclusive and she lived in a different state, turns out they celebrated their anniversary two weeks after the ball. She was told I was an old friend of his of like 10 years. I hesitated to go due to cost and not knowing him, but he covered half my flight and insisted he really wanted me there. She was told I pressured him into taking me.
I was humiliated. I spent a total of 2 days with this guy and 9 months later I'm feeling like a home-wrecker.
The truth is the girlfriend and I actually had a really good conversation, she was very sweet to me and appreciative of my honesty and apologetic that I found myself in this situation at all. My heart went out to her for being in such a long relationship with a guy who was so deceitful and manipulative.
The truth is, it's still a fun thing I did once. I'm able to compartmentalize the fairy-tale and the ridiculous reality. I was never attached to this guy so what happened doesn't hurt me or anything, it's just another story in my ridiculous repertoire.
That being said, it has been decided. I'm going to write a book.

Thursday, August 1, 2013

5 Months

Well friends I have been living in Arizona for 5 months now.
It's still crazy to me to think that I actually moved here. That I don't live in Utah. It's crazy to me to remember in the beginning when I kept telling people, "I just gotta give it 4-6 months and then I'm sure things will be getting better" and that I am at that point now.
My plan for the first 5 months was to learn my way around, meet people that I could really become good friends with, find a place I really wanted to live and just basically find a life for myself here.
A friend of mine from Utah just moved here for med school and I spent Monday with him. I took him to a pool party and introduced him to some people. By the time he left my house that night I just thought, "My gosh... I'm not the new kid anymore." It was so surreal to me to realize that I had people now, I had a life here now.
On Tuesday I moved into my new apartment with my friend Shakira. Yesterday I was on the phone with a friend of mine and I realized, I feel like everything that has happened in AZ thus far has been to get me to this point. The first 5 months of me living here were preparing me to get to this point. When I first moved here I didn't know anyone or anything but with this move I feel like I have more of a purpose. I feel like I'm at the start of something real, something worthwhile. There is just something about this move and this apartment that makes me feel more at home.
I still don't know what Arizona has in store for me. I still don't know my purpose for coming here and I still want to eventually end up in Utah around my family, but for right now I feel like I'm in the right place. I feel like I'm doing the right thing.