the honeymoon's over

Random thoughts and experiences during our first week of marriage...

They really should have a Hoarders episode for newlyweds.  How am I supposed to fit all of this stuff??  Our apartment looks like a hurricane blew through it.  Who knew that this man would have would have more clothes and more junk than I do?  Last night we were going through a few bags and found his old portable CD player.  Honestly?
I finally unpacked the kitchen and had it all organized, until I got home the other day to see six packages containing wedding presents.  And when I say packages, I don't mean itty bitty packages.  I mean boxes.  So we now have even more boxes and even more things.  I know, first world problems.  I'm ridiculous.  But really, we have been overwhelmed with everyone's generosity, we feel very blessed.

Round 3 of boxes.

Speaking of boxes, I'm still trying to decide if I prefer FedEx, who just leaves your package outside your apartment door where everyone can see it, or if I prefer UPS.  UPS simply leaves five packages at your neighbor's apartment.  No big deal, everyone is best friends with their neighbor right?  Wrong.  Now my neighbors know I'm either a newlywed or an online shopaholic who just keeps receiving presents in the mail.

Always carry around $9 in cash.  When Matt came home the other night he couldn't find any more guest parking so he decided to park in the parking lot where my siblings always park when they stay here during weekends.  Their cars are always fine, why shouldn't his be?  At 6:30 the next morning I decided to check and see if his car was there.  Surprise, no red car.  I still don't understand how a tow truck can even fit into our tiny downtown parking lot, much less get a car out of it.  After finding out where his car was taken, Matt met the nice Russian man who informed him it would cost him a whopping $239 to get his car back, and it had to be exact change.  Who carries around $9?  Matt handed him $240, and the Russian said, "I'm not used to tips, but thank you."  Wow.

we run L.A.

If you know me at all, you probably know I am a fully indoctrinated USC Trojan, and I am only slightly obsessed with USC football.  I could talk your ear off about sanctions and the ridiculousness of the NCAA, but I understand most people who read my blog aren't very interested in that, and that kind of information is better suited for other blogs.
This last week my alma mater played our crosstown rivals, ucla.  I laughed through most of it because it was so amazing, as you can see from the score.  It's a little embarrassing to even call them our rivals, and even more embarrassing for them to call themselves a football team.  Matt Barkley was a saint, per usual, and I loved completely demoralizing the team that will go on to play Oregon in the "Pac-12" championship game.  As a little FYI, neither team ever had a lead against us this year.
Watching the comedy reminded me of an experience I had at the USC vs. ucla game my senior year in college, and I decided it had to be shared and documented.
To preface, I have to admit that USC student fans can sometimes be very brutal, especially among each other.  My worst experiences always occurred with one of my friends, Shiloh.  The worst ever occurred at this game.
My friend Dani and I found seats right behind Shiloh and a few of our other friends from church.  Shiloh has his own opinions about the USC football team and who should be starting and who shouldn't be starting.  Pretty often, his opinions differ from that of the head coach and the majority of the student body.  When Shiloh yelled out for the back-up quarterback to play, he got quite a few angry comments from the intoxicated boys right behind Dani and me.  Dani and I stood there awkwardly waiting for the moment to pass, and Shiloh just ignored them.

But it didn't pass.

They continued trying to get Shiloh's attention and making snide comments.  When they realized Shiloh and I knew each other, they decided to start annoying me by pulling on my hair and blowing in my ear.

Are you serious?  Are we in elementary school here?

As they kept talking smack about how "hard" they were and how they could fight anyone, Shiloh turned around right in time to see one of them pull on my hair.  Totally calm, he said, "Excuse me, Parks."  He stepped up into my row, and without hesitation punched one of the boys in the face.  The boys who had been talking hard all night just sat around staring at Shiloh, while our other friends quickly got Shiloh out of the stadium before security came.  Dani and I decided it would probably be a good idea to leave as well.
USC went on to win the game of course, scoring a touchdown in the last minute because the bRuins disrespected and decided to call a timeout when there was no way they were going to win the game.
Shiloh actually broke his hand, and I had to convince his wife, one of my good friends, that he did it in order to defend my honor.

In other news, I got married last week.  If everyone isn't totally sick of my wedding, I'll try to post recaps and pictures.  For now, here's a favorite...

...

For those of you who think I've taken a hiatus, you're almost right.  For whatever reason it takes too much time for me to write a blog post...

So I got a tumblr.

the proposal

For those of you who don't know by now, I am engaged/officially betrothed to Matthew Haskell.


Now for the story for those of you who care to know the details...
A couple weeks ago Matt and I went down to Provo for our friend Austin Hatch's birthday.  Hatch is getting married in a couple weeks.  While we were all talking, Hatch kind of randomly told Matt to come outside with him so Hatch could show him something.  I didn't think much of it, I know of their mutual love for each other and I knew Matt would tell me what it was later.  However, when Matt refused to tell me what it was, I was pretty upset.  Hatch was one of my best friends too, why couldn't I know about it?? 
A few days before the actual proposal, Matt and I were joking around and he called me his fiance.  No, I said, I am not your fiance (waving my left hand around, I'm so classy).  Matt said, "Well, first I have to get a ring."
... WHAT?!  "You don't have a ring?!?  How do you not have a ring?!?"  I was completely confused and slightly devastated.  He went on about money and how I had given him a deadline of May (yes, I am ridiculous) so he said according to our agreement, he wasn't required to have a ring by now.  
So last Friday I got off work early and decided to take a nap while Matt had class.  I woke up to his phone call telling me that he was coming to pick me up.  His parents were coming in town and we had plans to go to dinner with them later that night so I panicked because my hair wasn't done.  "Okay," he said, "you can do it.  Fifteen minutes."  I have too much hair for fifteen minutes.  By the time he got there I was half done, so he waited while I finished.  "Not to make you hurry, but we have to go to my roommate's dad's office because we need to fax some things in to reapply for our apartment," he said.  This was legitimate, I had seen signs for this all over their apartment complex.  I tried to finish my hair quickly and we left.
Matt's roommate's name is Boo, and his dad works on the 11th floor of a building in the middle of downtown Salt Lake City.  When we got there, I tried to charm Boo's little niece while Boo gave Matt a random piece of paper to sign for the "fax".  They had actually prepared a piece of paper to fax, but couldn't find it when we arrived.  I didn't notice anything.  Boo casually suggested Matt should show me the conference room, and his dad took us to the room.  As we passed reception on our way there Boo's dad asked if the room was available, when really he had reserved the room strictly for us.  
The conference room was awesome with windows taking up half of it for a beautiful view of downtown.  As we walked in I thought to myself, "Boo should really propose to whoever he marries here."  Meanwhile Boo was panicking outside because he thought his dad wouldn't be able to get out of the room.  Poking his head in he asked his dad to show him where the fax machine was, and Matt and I kept enjoying the view.  Looking far off to the right, I kept pointing out all my favorite buildings in downtown until finally Matt said, "Oh hey, look!"  Dead center and a little ways off, two guys were jumping up and down on top of a parking garage holding a big sign that said, "Will you marry me?"   I stood there trying to figure out what was going on, my first thought was that someone else was being proposed to and we could also see their sign, but then I looked to my left and Matt was down on one knee asking me to marry him!  I don't even remember how I responded, but the ring is on my finger.  
It also took me a little while to figure out that everyone was in on it, the entire law office included.  The guys were Matt's other two roommates, and they had been waiting for me in the sleet and rain while I finished doing my hair at my apartment.  Matt had actually been showing Hatch the ring the week before when he wouldn't tell me what they talked about, and Matt had bought the ring shortly after asking my dad for permission back in March.  

It was perfect, and I was completely surprised.  Matt and I have known each other for a very, very long time so it is usually pretty hard for him to surprise me with something, but he pulled it off perfectly.  I am so happy and have been so overwhelmed with all the love we have received from friends and family.  Thank you for your constant support and well wishes.  We look forward to this new chapter in our lives!

you're welcome

version 2.0

Lately I've been really into parallel universes. Maybe it's because I went to see Rabbit Hole on my birthday. It's not a birthday movie due to its heaviness, but I loved it. It talks about parallel universes and Nicole Kidman says, "I like to think about myself somewhere out there having a good time."

The other day the smell of coffee kicked me straight back to a morning waking up in LaMarque, Texas, at my grandparents' house. I thought, Am I also there? Later when I take my lunch break will I also in some other universe be driving to Baskin Robbins with my grandpa? He'll fix a light in the store while I eat my grape flavored ice cream with gummi bears. Later we'll sit at the grand piano while he serenades me with his made up songs and I'll strum away on that stringed instrument I can never remember the name of.

I understand basic mathematics. I know parallel lines will never cross. But what if we could? What if we had a meeting with our previous or future self? I wonder if my previous self would listen to me now. I wonder what she would think of me. Usually I am fairly positive I would be a little scared of my former self, and just how determined, focused, and clear minded she seems to me now. I wonder if I would even want to tell her anything. Maybe I'd comfort the fifteen year old me "Listen, self... don't worry about the other chick. You win out every time and she ends up marrying someone not at all attractive. It's not worth stressing about." Or maybe I'd warn the eighteen year old self, "Don't leave your car overnight across the street from The Yellow Rose. It will get broken into, and they'll steal your 2pac CD." However I can't even watch a movie with someone who has seen it before because I usually end up manipulating them into telling me how it ends. I can't imagine what I would do if I had my future self available to tell me all.

Mostly I think I'd just want to say to whichever version of me, future or past, "Be happy." So much of the beauty in my life has come from unexpected outcomes.

pb & j

With every television show I get hooked to, I always identify irrationally with one of the main characters. I'm hoping everyone does it, but it helps me become more emotionally invested in the story line (like that's so necessary...). For example, in high school I identified strongly with Marissa from the O.C. I've never even been to Tijuana, much less overdosed in an alley there. Nor have I had secret affairs with the sexy Mexican lawn boy. However, I've always had a weakness for lost boys with blue eyes.

Then when I was addicted to Grey's Anatomy for the first half of college, I felt like I identified with Christina. I wanted to be just like her: driven, ambitious, relentless, brilliant, plus she dated Dr. Preston Burke, whom I love. However, every time I would take one of those stupid personality tests on Facebook, it would always tell me I was Dr. Bailey. Really?

With Keeping Up with the Kardashians, I identified with... Bruce Jenner. The only white girl living with five Persian Beverly Hills Jewish girls, I didn't have much of a choice. Bruce is always the voice of reason, and let's just say that may have been how it was with our apartment dynamics as well. But not always. ;)

When I started to watch the Office, things really got out of hand. I identified/really wanted to be like Angela. Crazy, I know, but so is she. She is hard as nails and I love it. Granted, I hate cats and I probably would never seriously call Pam "whorish," nor would I date Dwight. Or Andy. But I would obviously honor the results of a duel over me. Unfortunately, every time my friends and I would talk about doing some kind of spoof of the Office, everyone always said I would be Kelly. Honestly? Am I that needy? Do I always need that much attention? Don't answer those questions.

Around the time of doppelgänger month last year, I was standing in the outfield during softball practice shagging balls (that is too good) while the rest of the team took BP. Our coaches were also in the outfield as usual to critique us on our swings and help on defense. I saw them looking over at me and kind of laughing, which wasn't too unusual and I figured it was well deserved. It was one of those days that I just didn't have time to do my hair, so it was up and pretty frizzy, and I'm sure I looked as tired as I felt. They called over to me and said, "Taylor, do you have a doppelgänger?" When I told them no, they laughed and informed me that I look exactly like Pam Beesley.

What?

Pam is okay, but she's not that smart. I mean, she failed art school. She basically rejected a beautiful love confession by Jim Halpert. And to make matters worse, she is frumpy! Am I frumpy?? As the coaches asked for the input of everyone else on the team, it soon became apparent that everyone agreed. Everyone. I was frumpy Pam Beesley. I still get text messages if one of them is watching the Office, just to tell me they miss me. It may or may not have been included in a birthday wall post from one of them yesterday. I've never been happy about this.

But then yesterday after a very exciting birthday phone call from two best friends currently in Israel, I called Matt to express my excitement and tell him all of the things that had happened to me so far on my birthday. He was in the library and was obviously busy, but it was my birthday so it was okay. As I kept talking, and his responses continued to be quiet I finally said, "Do you want me to let you get off the phone or something?" To which he replied, "No, let's talk for a long time."

This is a direct Jim Halpert quote. I could not stop laughing as I got off the phone. I'm okay being PB as long as I've got my J.

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Dear People in Utah,

Please stop writing letters to inanimate objects.

Not so sincerely,

Taylor

steady wins the race

I have never been a sprinter, but I can hold my own in distance. Once upon a time I ran a mile in sub-six minutes, but that was a very long time ago and to be honest our P.E. teacher may have flubbed the numbers because I still don't understand how that is possible. Ever since those all-important turkey trots in elementary school, I've always told myself that the way I start the race will be the way I finish it, except with more sweat. I always knew I needed to set my pace carefully from the very beginning, not too fast so as to exhaust myself, but not too slow to jeopardize my time.

In some ways this characterizes my life. When I start something slowly, or hesitate too much, it often takes a while to really get going.

If I start getting too sassy, Matt and I play a game of sorts that I kind of hate where Matt makes it nearly impossible for me to stand up. Every time I try to jump up from the couch or love sac, he is right there to push me back down. While that game is fun, and probably even more fun to watch, lately I feel like that's the way this place is treating me. Because of the constant readjustments and situations that bring me back to square one, it has been difficult to really get going.

At least that's my justification for being in my new apartment for a week and still not having any furniture to speak of...

But I know that I can't convince myself that I would rather stay stagnant. I need to keep going and keep struggling to stand up, hoping I'll catch him unawares.

eet mor chikin

Today I was walking back with Chickfila for lunch when I passed a larger than average woman who looked at me and said, "You know that's just going to go to your thighs, right?"

Then she took a drag, because she was on her smoking break.

pointed toward the future

"... As a new year starts and we try to benefit from a proper view of what has gone before, I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone, nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead, we remember that faith is always pointed toward the future."

In January a couple years ago my brilliant institute teacher at USC handed us each a copy of a BYU speech by Jeffrey R. Holland entitled "Remember Lot's Wife" that you can listen to here. It is a perfect talk to go over as we each start the new year.

"God doesn’t care nearly as much about where you have been as He does about where you are and, with His help, where you are willing to go."

And of course, Gone with the Wind is also applicable when Scarlett tells Ashley, "Don't look back Ashley, don't look back. It will drag and drag at your heart, until you can't do anything but look back." Deep, Scarlett.

I may or may not be chronically homesick, but if 2010 taught me anything, it's to live in the moment and appreciate the little things, which reminds me of another quote my brave 27-year-old cousin shared with me. She found out a couple months ago that she has stage 4 breast cancer, but she is fighting and has so much faith and resilience. She has been a true inspiration to me.

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things."

-- Robert Brault

Happy New Year.