Is this a pretty picture of me? Should I put it on facebook? Someone might see it and then know that sometimes I'm not as pretty as I am in other pictures. I know I'm just not as objectively attractive as some no matter how flattering the picture. But does this one qualify as 'pretty' to someone who has never seen me before? Do I trust someone who doesn't know me to see that I am brave because this picture is hiding none of my flaws? The wrinkles around my eyes, the dark shadows under them, my wider nose, my puffy cheeks that hide my cheekbones. That's the honest way I look. Why is this hard? I think who I am is beautiful and what I look like cannot be separated from who I am. I was hiking, I was in the mountains, I was awe-struck by the beauty around me, I was totally happy. It makes me sorrowful to reflect on how much I worry about if I look pretty. Every girls wants to be told they are pretty, right? No....
In a fit of optimism William and I booked ourselves a 55 minute layover in Boston to catch an international flight to Portugal. TAP (a discount Portuguese airline) had a killer deal on tickets to Madrid with a stopover in Lisbon at the same time Alaska Airlines had its PFD sale, and the short layover was the only way to take advantage of both, so we took the bait and wagered our whole vacation on that little moment in time. I’m sure you can see where this is going. Everything was going perfectly, the Alaska Airlines flight was only delayed a few minutes, it was landing in the same terminal as the Portugal flight was leaving from, and the wonderful flight attendants let us get off before everyone else. We were balls of nervous energy, and went sprinting through the Boston airport, following signs for gate C17. But the signs just kept going, and going, and going through hallways, up and down stairs, and eventually OUT of a security check point! How could gat...
Bear watching/clam digging in Alaska I came to Salt Lake at the tail end of the worst 6 months of my life. After a huge disappointment in the love department I managed to still attend enough classes and beg for enough extra time to finish enough final papers to graduate with my masters degree. For months after I felt the pressure and feelings of failure of not being able to find a job. I separated my shoulder and so I was not able to run or hike or bike or play frisbee or even swim...basically everything that keeps me happy, healthy, and connected. I tried to deal with it...and by that I mean I watched every episode of Parks and Recreation. I spent hours applying for jobs and more hours sitting in parks reading, hoping no one could tell how pathetic I felt. I did the mind-numbing walk/run up and down 'the Y' over and over because it was the only thing I could do with my injury that was challenging but safe. I was offered a job in St. George. ...
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