Adventures with Shopping

I'm probably the worst person on the planet to go shopping with. At least when it comes to clothes. If we go food shopping you will walk away thrilled. I like food.
I also like clothes. The difference between food and clothes is that I can eat the food, and want it now. Clothes are a challenge for me. Typically I wander around. Aimlessly. I look at things that I would never wear, things I want to wear but never could, things that cost way too much, and things I potentially want.
The store clerks ask me an average of 18 times if I'm still doing ok.
Usually I'll find a few items I want.
And then I put them back.
After an hour and having security called on me because no one takes that long unless they're shoplifting, I leave empty-handed.
Usually.
Sometimes there is a rare instant where I actually buy something.
Usually that something is grey. Gray? Grey. I like the letter 'e' more.
Why is it usually grey?
Because this is my thought process:
This is a cute shirt. I like this shirt. I would like to buy this. But what color?
Some part of my brain: Grey. Get grey. you don't have any shirts that are grey.
And so I buy the grey shirt.
Guys, I have 16 grey shirts. It's a problem. And I don't know how to fix it. My brain rejects my reality and substitutes its own. So I have a thousand grey shirts and only keep buying more.

High School Rewind

Some days I wish I could go back to high school.
It's not a lingering feeling, high school was not my best moment.
I played the tuba.
I wouldn't be going back to relive the glory days... they were a bit scarce.
I would go back to change things.
Playing the tuba wouldn't be one of them though.
So what would I change? Not everything. Probably not much. Maybe a few big things, but mostly little ones.
I would have tried harder. I would be the straight A student I am now, instead of the one that graduated by the skin of her teeth.
I would have taken a few more AP classes.
When I was tardy and my teachers said "Mortensen, you're late." I would have had one response- and one only:
"A wizard is never late, nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."
I would have enjoyed the Great Gatsby.
I would have steered far away from my junior year boyfriend.
I would have met Kiri Case long before I did.
I would have cared less about dances.
I would have spent more time with my friends, and less time worrying about what boys thought of me.
I guess I would have been a different person.
I look at the things that happened, everything that I would change if I had that chance and I have to wonder...
If I did have the chance, would I really change it?
I'm where I am because of the choices I made. It's not one of those "maybe it would have been different..." things. I can actually SEE that my life is the way it is now because of what I did. Almost not graduating, dating that boy that destroyed my self worth, meeting Kiri Case when I did, not taking as many AP classes as I could have... they all put me here. Would I trade any of it?
No.
Except for the wizard part, I totally wish I would have done that.

This Strange Man...

Everyone ready for Part 2 of the "I Love My Family" Series?
Fasten your seatbelts, because this next featured family member is wild behind the wheel.
Sorry, I'll stop being stupid now.

When I was three years old my mom married my dad. (Quick back story. My mom was divorced with two kids- me and my older brother. Cary (Dad!) was divorced with a daughter- now my older sister.) Our little family of three and his little family of two quickly became a rather interesting family of five.
And he just ran with it.
I cannot even imagine what my life would be like if not for him.
He gave me the most amazing, successful life I could have. And he cares more than I'll ever know.
When I was a senior in high school I was pretty sure that I was going to amount to nothing.
All of my friends were getting offer letters and acceptance letters from great colleges, and I hadn't even applied anywhere yet.
Teenage impulsive Kirsten decided to make an announcement:
I hate school. I don't even want to go to college! Everyone just expects me to go but no one ever bothered to ask about how I feel about it!!
And proceeded to break out in tears.
Dad just looked at me and said "Look. I don't care if you go to college. If you want a good job that's what I recommend. But if working at Quiznos (my high school job) is what is going to make you happy then that's all I care about."
I'm sure he doesn't remember that conversation.
But it honestly changed my life.
Because I knew Quiznos wasn't going to make me happy.
I hated coming home smelling like sandwiches.
And that's when I decided that college was important, even if it didn't sound like the most fun.
So here I am. Working full-time, going to school at Utah State University, living 50 miles away figuring out how to be an adult.
All because my dad told me he wanted me to be happy.
Just like my Mom, this man has put up with all sorts of crazy because of me. As shown by the story above. We've been the most fascinating of people to watch interact. Because we're so different, and yet so similar it's scary.
Somehow it works out.
He got thrown into a wild ride with a crazy three year old that wanted to wear pink shorts every day of her life.
I still get teased about that, by the way.
And somehow he managed to figure me out.
That I'm emotional.
Stubborn.
Hypoglycemic.
Angry.
A bit strange and a little bit manic.
He's my hero, for everything he does. For his love of Red Sox baseball, second only to his love for his family. For his weird little dance moves, for his crazy 80's music. Because he has to start every road trip with Rush music, and it drives my mom insane. Because he loves Disneyland almost as much as this girl. Because he will drop everything to help anyone that is in need. He's the best Dad in the world.

I got pretty darn lucky.
No, we don't get along all the time.
He believes in the principle of tough love, which usually means I end up in tears because I'm a big baby. But at the end of the day, he is my dad, and no one will be able to fill his shoes.
Love you, Dad.
Oh, and he really is a crazy driver. I was serious.

Remembering

I've never shared this story with anyone, except for some of the people that lived it with me. But, even then, they don't know what exactly I felt and what I experienced. I don't know why, but I feel the need to share this. It's taken me 5 months to write, because I wanted to make sure I wrote it in the best way possible. I tried to cut out all the unnecessary parts, and turning my emotions into words was harder than I expected. I hope I can convey this well. It's not an easy thing to talk about, especially because I don't deal with death well.
I have a knack for remembering dates. So this last week has been pretty hard on me as I have re-lived each event that occurred in 2012

April 12th, 2012.
I had just gotten off work. I pulled out my phone and read a text message from my brother:
"Do you know what's going on with Grandma?"
That wasn't what I wanted to read.
I hadn't heard that there was anything wrong.

The doctors said she had six months to live.
This wasn't right. It couldn't be. Not now.

April 13th, 2012.
Everything was going fine. Life was the same as what it had always been, except for some sad news I was trying to push back in my brain.
Just don't think about it.
6 months gives us time.
7:00 PM. A phone call from my mom.
"Kirsten, I think you need to come down. They don't think she's going to make it through the night. You need to say goodbye. You need to understand though... she's not coherent. She's kind of in a coma. She won't know you're here."
Traffic never seemed slower.
The hour between Ogden and Salt Lake City seemed to be an eternity.
I prayed to God that she would live until I got there. I cried and prayed, prayed and cried.
Please let her stay. Please don't let her die. Not now. Please, not now.
All of my immediate family was at the hospital, except my older brother, who was attending school in Logan, Utah. My parents, my older sister and her husband, myself, and my two younger brothers crowded around my grandma's bedside. My mom said we should say our goodbye to grandma. I guess either no one wanted to, whether they just didn't know what to say, or just didn't want to have to say it... I'll never know. But the first goodbye said was mine.
She wasn't awake. She really wasn't there in a sense.
But I still told her my fondest memories of her.
The times I spent with her while my mom was a single mother working to support her two kids.
The time I went and woke her up in the middle of the night because I was afraid of tornados.
I told her more than I can remember, and more than I care to share.There was so much I wanted to ask her, so much left unsaid.
But at the end I told her I loved her. I bent down and kissed her on the forehead... and the most incredible thing happened.
I watched her mouth form the words "I love you too". I watched her try to kiss me goodbye on the cheek, just like she always had.
She did the same thing to each of my family members, even my older brother who was saying goodbye over a cell phone.
That night she snapped out of the coma. She was back to being Grandma. Just tired and weak. I had the opportunity through some very interesting events to be able to be the last person to really talk to her that night. I told her again what I told her while she was incoherent earlier in the evening.  I even got to ask her one question that meant more than I ever would have imagined.
What is your favorite song?
'I Often Go Walking', a song from the LDS Primary Children's Songbook. She explained that we need to hold onto those songs, because it's the simple things in life that count.
We talked and laughed and I left thinking that it would all be fine, and that she was getting better.

April 14th.
I went home to Ogden. I had taxes I needed to do and finals to study for. Grandma was doing better anyway.

April 15th, 2012. 6:00 AM.
A phone call wakes me up. It's my mom again.
Kirsten, she's really going this time. If you don't want to drive back down I understand. You already said goodbye, and she's not coherent.
I don't know if it was the exhaustion talking, but I said that I would stay up in Ogden. Half of me said that it was ok, she'd snap out of it again. But 15 minutes went by and I had to leave. I would never forgive myself if I wasn't there when grandma died.
I drove that dreadful hour that seemed to last forever. No one was expecting me to come. I was wearing pajamas, I had never bothered to change. I don't suspect anyone in a hospital cares whether or not you look acceptable to the public eye. My older brother had been able to make it down from Logan. We were blessed to be together completely as a family.
There she was, once again totally disconnected from the world around her. My grandma, who had been so full of life and love, not even aware of what was going on around her.
It had turned into a vicious cycle.
Around 10:00 AM she snapped back.
This was the final time.
We all gathered together, all the extended family that was present, and we listened to her give us her last words of advice.
"Be yourself because you are wonderful."
There was a lot of family there, a lot of commotion, and it was hard to hear her. She said "There are things in life you're going to have to fight for..." But no one heard her. At least no one seemed to, except me. When someone realized they had missed something they asked her to repeat herself, but she just shrugged it off, said it wasn't important.
So I said it again for her.
She said there are things in this life you're going to have to fight for.
Silence.
My grandma turned and looked at me and said "like what?"
And I knew. I knew the words she wanted me to say. Because it was what my grandma always stood for.
We have to fight for what we believe in, even when everyone says you're wrong.
She looked at me and smiled.
"Exactly."

Luana Ruth Miller Johnson passed away in her sleep at 2:00 PM April 15, 2012, holding the hand of her husband of nearly 61 years, surrounded by three of her seven children.

I sat in the hospital waiting area next to my older brother. He sat with his head down, resting in the palms of his hands. I reached out and put my arm around him.
I'm alright, he said.
I know... but I'm not.

She worried that she had done nothing with her life.
And that makes me so sad.
She couldn't see what good she had done in this life, she had no idea how much she changed the world.
She left behind a legacy of love and compassion.
She left behind a granddaughter that would give her entire world just for one more day with her.
There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about her.
It's been a year. One long year, one short year. I think it depends on the day. Some days it's ok, and life is normal and good. Other days it hurts more than I can stand. I cry because I don't know how to live without her, even after an entire year.
I was told I had 6 months. I had 4 days.
I'm not bitter. I'm thankful that I had 20 beautiful years with that woman to love me unconditionally. I love you, Grandma. You knew me better than I knew myself. I'm only now starting to realize just how well you had me figured out. I hope I'm making you proud.
Until we meet again, I love you forever and always.

To my Momma.

Not that I ever call her Momma to her face.

She's Mom. Not Momma, or Mother, just Mom. Always has been. I was pretty convinced up until I was 5 that Mom was actually her first name.
There aren't many things that are constant in my life, but she's definitely one of them. 

I was blessed with the most fantastic of families. Really, they're superb. Great enough for me to use weird vocabulary in order to describe them.

I would like to write a post on each member of my family, and that's going to take a little while, seeing as I won't be doing this every day. 

But, since it was my Mom's birthday last week, we're going to start with her.

My mom has done some pretty incredible things in her life.

Like raising me.

No, I'm not being conceded.

I'm saying that this girl right here was NOT easy to raise.

Not in the slightest.

We fought all the time, and that was because I was a pain in the butt.

Ever since I was 18 months old I've been opinionated and stubborn as heck. 

If I wanted to wear pink every day, by golly I was going to.

If my socks weren't on right I threw a kicking, screaming, crying fit.

I still have issues with my socks and I'm 21.

Some things you just don't grow out of.

Yet she put up with the sock problems, 

the nothing-but-pink stage, 

the 15 different musical instruments I HAD to learn, 

the part where I almost didn't graduate high school, 

the sass, the tears, the fights, and the all around crazy I brought into our lives.

And I still turned out alright.

She is the most fantastic woman I've ever met, and I can only hope that I turn out to be half the person she is.

Someone that worked full-time as a single mom to take care of her 2 toddlers.

Someone that brought us into our new family, and gave us the best life we could possibly have.

My rock, my example, my best friend.

Someone that has been through so much bad, but still somehow sees the good in everything.

In the last year alone I've watched her go through so much, especially with her sweet mom passing away, and everything that followed afterwards.

She is the sweetest, strongest, most independent woman I know, and every day I thank God that she is my Momma.

Realization.

I bought a new car.
I'm super poor now.
The process of buying said car was... fun.
If there was a "dripping in sarcasm" font, that's what I would have just used.
Italics will have to do.
My sweet parents were much help during this process, and they jumped through all sorts of hoops.
Metaphorically, some of those hoops were probably on fire. That's how crazy this was.
And I ended up with a freakin amazing car.
It's cute. And fuel efficient. Which is awesome, because I drive A LOT.
And it has stickers on it!
Anyway haha...
While searching for a new car to purchase I came across an Audi TT.
It was a fantastic little sports car.
And I wanted it.
But my wonderful father would have none of it.
Even if there is virtually nothing wrong with a vehicle, Cary Mortensen will find something.
Lots of miles, tire tread is wearing in a weird pattern, there's after-market features added... and last, but not least: you can't fit a baby car seat in the back of an Audi.
DAD!
I'm 21, not married, how soon do you think I'm having kids?!
I was convinced this was a really stupid reason not to buy a sexy sports car.
I don't even want kids anyway...
right?
I have spent the last year or so telling myself that kids are not my thing. I don't like children. Well, I like certain children. Well behaved children. Cute children. Children that don't run around screaming just because they don't get what they want. I'm so tired of bratty little kids, and I see way too many of them. Kids were an no-go for me.
So you can imagine my surprise when the whole car-seat thing became important.
I guess sub-consciously I really did plan on having kids. I don't know when. It might be in 2 years, it might be in 5, it might be in 10. I'm not planning on them anytime soon.
Maybe I'm just lazy, but finding a new car and selling an Audi (with lots of miles and weird tire tread wear) because I can't put my kid in the back seems like a hassle.
And on top of being concerned about being able to fit a kid in my car, I realized that I have an "emergency pocket" in my purse.
Which has food, cough drops, cold medicine, etc in it.
So when Bryan Montague needs food I can give him crackers.
OH. MY. GOSH. I'M TURNING INTO A MOM.
This is what happens when maternal instincts start to kick in??
Planning ahead.

Which is why I didn't buy the Audi.
I'm sure you're all wondering why I didn't just buy a minivan and get it over with.

Because minivans suck.

Adventures with a Smoke Detector

Alright guys, time for an adventure. And a different style of bloggin.
Get ready for some lovely pictures of me.
And
Here
We

Go.

I was sitting here just minding my own business,
browsing the facebook. So, probably not minding my own business...ANYWAY
Here I am. See my cute little computer? It's adorable.
So, my roommates had all just left, and I was the only one left in my house.
At least I sure hope I was.
I'm paranoid that things wait in my pantry to kill me.
Just kidding about the pantry part.
There's a lot of better places to hide than that.
Don't get any ideas.
Or I'll cry.
And probably pepper-spray you.
Back to the story.

Minding my own business, and all of the sudden...

BEEP!
Fantastic.
What could possibly be beeping in such a way right now?
Or at any other given time?
Only one thing.
And there it goes again.
The smoke detector.
So I went to investigate.
I knew it had to be close, either in my room or right outside the door.
My best deductive reasoning told me the best way to find the culprit was to glare at each one and then jab it with a closed umbrella.

and here it is.
The dying smoke detector.
the beeping thing.
The thing that would probably be waking me up at 2 in the morning with its screams if I didn't fix it now.
And I had to call my mom because I didn't know if I could just rip it out of the ceiling and be done with it.
Nope. Go buy batteries. The square kind.
Good thing I live right down the road from a Wal-mart.
So I braved the cold,
nearly dislocated my hip when I slipped on a patch of ice
(and miraculously didn't fall on my butt. Just flailed my arms around like an idiot),
stepped in a sneaky puddle,
and found the batteries I was looking for.


And as soon as I got home
and took them out of the package
I promptly lost them.

And then found them

Then I successfully installed one of them, like a boss, into the awful beeping smoke detector.

There was much rejoicing.

Take that, apartment.

If this is the most successful thing I do all day I'd be ok with that.

the embarrassing 'self-help' blog

I want to let y'all in on a little secret. I drool. Like a mad man.
Yes, it's true. Anyone that has fallen asleep next to me knows that it's kind of like falling asleep in Lake Michigan.
Ok, it's not that bad.
Why am I even telling you this?
Because I'm trying to become comfortable with everything I am.
I know that there's things about me that are far from perfect. I know that I have a lot of flaws. I know there are things I need to fix.
But, as the dentist once told me, I have some excellent salivary glands. And I don't think that's really fixable. And I don't think it needs to be.

People are too dang hard on themselves.
Guilty as charged.
It doesn't help that we live in a society that makes it seem that the only acceptable thing to be "perfect". Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect muscle definition, perfect car, perfect job, perfect everything. Or morbidly obese. Take your pick.
Not that I'm proud of my drooling, or particularly enjoy it, but I'm ok with it. Not like it's hurting anyone.
It's good to be comfortable in our own skin and stop trying to fix things about ourselves that don't need to be fixed.
I think people are generally pretty unhappy because they're not content with being who they are. So I'm going to focus on loving the weird things about me that make me... well, ME :)
So you
-Yes, YOU-
Should go look in the mirror (or in my case, my pillow) and name off one thing that you like about you, or one thing that shouldn't bother you about you.
Own up to being you.
It's a good thing.

Today's mushy, love-yourself post was brought to you by the letter V and the number 14. It is February after all.

My New Years Resolution

So if any of you read my last blog post (which I suggest you read, obviously), here's my update for you:
I went into Weber's Admissions office to talk to someone about how they no longer consider me a resident. They were rude and unhelpful and automatically assumed that I was mad and irrational. I went in there calm and composed, but after being treated like I was an idiot I decided something.
I want nothing to do with Weber State University.

My classes have been dropped. My transfer application to Utah State University has been completed. My transcripts have been sent.

I'm upset with the school for treating me so poorly when all I wanted was help.

BUT

I realized something else.  Something that I should have always known.
Marilyn Monroe has a fantastic quote. well, many, but this is the one that I want to share with you today:
"I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you can appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together."

2012 was a rough year for me.  Without a doubt the worst I've ever had. For a long time I couldn't afford to live, everything was paycheck to paycheck and that didn't even cover it. My dad was laid off after 15 loyal years with a company that treated him like crap. My sweet grandma, who meant the world to me, passed away, leaving a giant hole in my heart. I was lied to by people I trusted, had a rotten roommate, and  was harassed into leaving a new well-paying job simply because my manager was a sexist pig. My cat died after being a part of our family for 16 years. And now the Weber State incident.

 I felt more alone than I had in my entire life.

BUT

Looking back, I realize that in a year full of heart-ache and sorrow, I was blessed in more ways than I could have ever imagined.
My dad was able to take care of everything around the house for my mom while she spent the last few days by her mother's side. That could not have happened if he hadn't have been laid off. He managed to find a new job as well, fairly soon after. My grandma passing away will always leave an empty spot in my heart... but it brought my family closer together. I got a new job, and even though I only had it for a few months I was smart enough to save a lot of money, so when I was unemployed for 2 months I could still afford to make every payment I needed to. I got a new job just as the money was getting close to running out. I found a new, cheaper place to live with awesome new roommates. And now I'm done with a school that was no good for me.

So here's to 2013: the year when everything changes.

When everything gets better.

When everything gets harder.

But when everything is worth it, because it's where I'm supposed to be.