i've always been an angel.

My dad was a pretty cool guy. Not only could he have been a member of Barnum & Bailey with his super human strength, but he also designed and built some pretty intense contraptions like: jet skis (in the 50's, before they were a common thing), a car frame out of a swing set, some weird hover craft (or so what i think someone told me it was) that i remember from my childhood, and last but not least--airplanes.

His main airplane was tailless and a marvel in the aviation world. This novel design landed him on the cover of national magazines and inside a slew of others. When i was younger i liked to rifle through the storage room and look at all the old magazines, photos and newspaper clipping about my family. I was always slightly disheartened that i was the only child not pictured in a magazine (i even remember reading the articles about Sarah in the local newspaper over and over--my mom had it laminated...). When Home Built Aircraft did a story on my dad in 1987 they included a family photo, alas i was not even a thought yet, the baby is Mallory. I decided today that i would change that. I don't know that this counts--okay, i know that it does not--as me being part of a photo that was available on news stands, but now i feel a little more connected to the Davis clan.

this is what you do when you go home from work early because you feel sick. photoshop and eat 12 bagel bites in one sitting...
one things for sure, a dozen bagel bites is never a good idea especially when you already feel under the weather...

everything i am, i was by age 9

Sometimes i like to tell myself that i only get more awesome with age. Recently i went through my first journal and realized a sad truth, i am exactly the same as when i was that goofy little kid with glasses so large they gave me sunburns on my cheeks.

November 25th, 1994 (age 6)

I am giteen my ckast oof in tue weex.

Okay, my spelling has improved a bit ( i can now spell words that have more than one and two letters correctly), but i think that is mostly due to the invention of spell check. The day the inter-webs came equipped with spell check i cried a little--happy, happy tears. I also am still just as unfortunate in the injury aspect of life... at 6 i (levi really) broke my arm but it just got worse with age as i progressed to sprained ankles, ankle reconstruction, and hip surgery...

February 9th, 1995 (age 7)

I am Mad at mom becaus mom and dad are going out to eet and tomorrow my famulee are going out to eet and I can't go becus I am going to Colette to spend the night and I can eethr go to Colette's or out to eet.

i just look so at home eating out. This was obviously before
i ate out too much and got a bit chunky

One time my friend asked my mom how i got to be such a fantastic cook, her answer was 'well it makes sense...she has always really loved food.' That was the nice way of saying that i was a little bit chunky. I probably like food even more now but i do have a greater appreciation for raw food and have stopped eating fast food, which is what my family was probably going to get. That or dinner at Flying J...

organize much?
April 27th, 1997 (age 9)

Now about our new car its a tin green. Has 7 seats, back windows that open. 5 cup holders, theres I think 5 cumpartments that hold sun glasses, a grog opener, a spy glass, and change. I gess that times four. Well I'm tired so I going to bed because it is 10:18 P.M. so good night journal. 
by style and by color, the way every closet should be.

Obsess about details much? I am slightly ocd, count things and organize to a fault. I also always know the exact time and am super punctual. I am  still terrible at explaining things, kinda like the 'I gess that times four' sentence.

May 3rd, 1997 (age 9)

I'm sorry my enchreys are so boring but hey I have a boring life.

Okay, this one is not true. I am not boring. For example read: terrors in the night, 23 years and counting, davises go all the way, etc. etc. etc.

May 8th, 1997 (age 9)

I don't have very much to say so don't exepte a lot. I'm going to bed now even tough it only 9:00 because when I sleep with Lynsey, we talk about going to camp until after ten 30 o,clock.

I make 10:30 (ten 30 o,clock to be more exact) seem like 4 am. I am pretty sure i have the same sleeping schedule that i did when i was 6. And, if i didn't sleep so much i might not get the amazing night life chalked full of sleep walking/dancing/singing/scarring children and over the top vivid dreams.

i might own a small business now but getting my mba is next.
May 13th, 1997 (age 9)

When I'm 30 or when I'm marryed I'll look back and see how funny I wrote. It will be funny.

Next month i will officially be in my mid twenties and on my way to single at 30. But i did forget to add that when I'm 30, i'll also be and a wicked hot/fit power business woman in a fortune 500 company.

May14th, 1997 (age 9)

I'm glad to day I didn't have any G.A.T. home work. I'm glad that after tomarow I only have to go to G.A.T. one more time.

I like to think that i am an exceptionally smart individual and logical. Sadly, i still have major blond moments (like the time my sister jokingly said she wanted to go to Chip and Dales for her birthday and i said, 'why you like nuts?' referring to the squirrels. Yes, i said squirrels, I couldn't even get the breed of rodent correct let alone type of establishment.) For the record, i was in the Gifted and Talented Education program. You know, GAT with an E...
oh my little tom boy. i think it only worked when
she was flat, once she got bitten by the boobie
fairy she decided to get more girly. once you get
boobs you either have to look super chubby/butch
in over sized clothes or get over boy clothes and
embrace your true gender.
i'm so proud of you mallory

October 29th, 1997 (age 9)

I have some prity neat stuff to tell you. 

The first thing is Sarah is going to get married to Lucus Bushwiller! She was going to go on a mission but instead she is going to get hiched her wedding is Decemeber 20th at 1:00 P.M. We are having the wedding the wedding resepion at our house. It seamse reallyweird but it is happening. She got engaged Oct. 28th at 4:00 P.M.

realization i'm a girl

tom boy side

One thing that has changed with age, my girly side has come out. I think that mallory scared all my girly-ness out of me. She was a tom-boy to the max and brutally made fun of anything pink and or frilly. Once i stopped being scared of mallory i started wearing fitted clothes and painting my nails weekly. I also, not so secretly, love weddings and all the nitty gritty details. Apparently at nine i never talked about weddings, just wrote them in my journal--secretly--where mallory's prying eyes couldn't see it--or punch me for it.

sadly i don't know that i have one normal photo of us. you know,
whereboth our eyes are open?
Novemeber 3rd, 1997 (age 9)

At Maple Grove this year we got a lot of kids from Hrizen. There is a new kid in my class named Jesse, he is 3 and a half inches shorter than me and is three mouths and about a day older than me. He is pritty funny, he tells me and Amanda some pritty weird stoirse. Like when he was little he used to run around the streets naked because his mom couldn't cach him or one time he told us that he doesn't wear underwear, he wears boxers and he said that onehe got made at his brother Seth and ripped his ear on axednent And a nother time he told us that once he stoll a kids shoe at church so the kid started chashing him and right when he dropped the shoes the kid bit his bum! He said that it hurt pritty bad and that it hurt to sit down for a week. Me favroirt is when he told us that he took a picher of his brother Seth Naked!!! That  was kind of mean. Our family knows a lot of Jesse's family.  I think Jesse is pritty nice and does a lot of really onushell stuff. 

p.s. i don't like him

my high school best friend. we are/were so cute.
If i could figure out this much stuff about my crush at 9, image what facebook has done to my stalking abilities! The ps is my favorite. I did like him and in high school i finally admitted it and dated him. I guess my admission of crushes is a new thing. At 17 my best friend Stephen made my new years resolution for me, it was that i would tell him who i liked. This is why i will be single until i am 30. It took me 17 years to learn how to admit that i have crushes, it will take me another 12 at least to figure out how to successfully flirt.

this single lady

You'd think that dating someone for four months would make it hard to get back into the swing of single life. Turns out i am almost as good at adjusting to single-dom as i am to jet lag (i am a rockstar at combatting jet lag by the way).

this is the face of a recently dumped girl.
or a girl that just cut onions.
okay fine, this photo is from when i cut onions.
i wish you could see the tears dripping off my chin soaking my shirt.
ironically, my boyfriend always cut onions for me,
i guess it is tear stained shirts again for me now.
sucky suck, i eat a lot of onions.
So what is it like to be single and live alone? Oh, it is a party i'll tell you what. It only took one day to adjust back to my normal--perfect-- sleep schedule, in bed around ten and up at seven. Being dumped ironically also pushes me to exercise and eat less sweets (except for last night when i 'accidentally' ate half a (small) pan of reese's bars...) so i have been working out like none other (should i be worried that i am an aggressive person if instead of crying i want to lift weights and run until my legs throb?). I was at my heaviest ever last week but now i am on the road to skinny jean recovery. My apartment is also very clean. I think i replaced my boyfriend with another man, my new dyson. I vacuum all the time. Seriously, all the time.

Being single lets you do anything you fancy. Lately, the things that i have been fancying involve Christmas. So now, without anyone judging (not that my boyfriend ever judged how i decorated my apartment, but whatever) my plan of attack for things, i have fully 'thrown' up Christmas all over my house.

Today i pulled out my iron for the first time. I didn't use it for clothes--i try not to buy things that need such a device--i used it to flatten snowflakes of course. I also got creative with my Christmas tree. I couldn't find paper clips to hang my small silver ornaments so naturally i choose the smallest clothes pins i have.  I then decorated with my trusty--twelve odd years old--popcorn and cranberry chain. She is a real beauty and makes my tipsy tree perfect. Speaking of being single, you know you are single when your Christmas decorations take up less than a square foot of closet space. All of my ornaments fit in a small tin can, pretty classy indeed.

When you are single you also get to do classy things like lounge around in your sock monkey slippers with your huge plush robe while you pick apart a chicken carcass on your leather ottoman. Next i will probably paint my nails skanky barbie pink, you know, to shake things up a bit. 

Don't get me wrong, i don't seek to be single even though i am so damn good at it, it is just something that unfortunately happens. Do i wish that my boyfriend would realize that i am a catch (come on, i even postpone painting my nails so i can pick a chicken clean, that is a damn good woman)? Yes. Do i wish that he hadn't had me pick him up from the airport and use my time and gas only for him to dump me when we got to provo? Yes. Do i wish i hadn't accidentally started crying in front of my class when a friend asked about him the day after he dumped me? Surprisingly, no. It was rather entertaining with this poor boy was trying to console me while i was laugh/crying. He was patting my knee from a distance trying to make things better saying, "um i usually don't make people cry...". Lucky chap, he's been married so long he forgot how to console girls with broken hearts. 

oh and my exboyfriend admitted while we dated that he never read my blog. one of my friends said that should have been a sign...

my secret (night) life

I have always been adamant that i am not a night person, yet ironically, i think that is when i am most entertaining. As i have mentioned before in terrors in the night, i have a problem with sleep walking/talking/dancing. Nothing has changed, i've still been sleep walking lately, but a new dimension has been added--incredibly vivid and rememberable dreams.

For an entire week i woke up each morning being able to recount dreams in their entirety. Or i woke up acting out my dream, like searching my house for my new baby niece nora (i came to with the light on and me throwing my clothes out of the hamper, sure she was under there). The dreams seemed to last for hours, not just seconds. The best two dreams are as follows:

'dave and nishelle's carnival wedding'

There i was, standing in an elevator minding my own business. Suddenly the door slides open and Adam Clayton waltzed in and started chatting it up with me. Dazed by running into a member of U2--months after they came to salt lake none-the-less--i continued on my way to my apartment, which had morphed into a combination of Seven Peak waterpark meets the Riverwoods shopping center meets Carriage Cove apartments. It was pretty sweet.

Walking around the complex to my stairs i noticed something was out of place. There stood the edge and bono assembling and test riding a ferris wheel for my friend's wedding. "Oh hey, i just saw adam clayton the elevator, what a small world." I can't remember much else about our conversation other than that they also made some humorous good natured jabs at me. We chatted for a few minutes, i didn't want to be that creepy lingering fan, so up the stairs i went to my apartment.

(Alas, paul mccartney wasn't in my dream, but i decided to throw him in for good measure. Next time i will ask him to make an appearance since he seems to be pals with U2, which after my dream practically makes me best friends with him too...)

I went upstair to tell my friends about the down-to-earth rockstars that i had just met and we got carried away playing games and singing. All the sudden i got a text from dave that made me remember why i had gone upstairs.

text: 'hey, i thought you would be out here finding the perfect angel to photograph us when we came out!'

Oh crap.

I was hired to be the photographer at dave and nishelle's wedding. I had gotten carried away reenacting my U2 encounter that i forgot to watch the time to walk down to the temple to photograph them when they walked out. With that i flew down three flights of stairs with camera equipment hanging from every limb. Once i hit the ferris wheel i ran face first into two of my friends, also wedding guest. By then the lights of the carnival were in full swing and music and churros filled the air. After about three seconds of discussing with them what our plan of attack should be for the evening, i totally forgot about my job as main photographer.

After dinner and many rounds of milk bottle toss i realized my blunder. I sat up in my bed, woken by fear and guilt. I instantly thought 'well someone had to have been there with a camera, i am sure that they got some photos...' my heart was racing and i was debating what to text back to dave, 'um sorry you paid me to take photos and i decided to win a giant bear from a carny instead...'

luckily, right before i reaching for my phone to text dave, i realized it was a dream.

this is how i image dave would look
if his wedding photographer was at the
wedding and forgot to take a single photo...

i know i should stop sleeping with my phone near by bed, it might start getting weird...

i was going to write about my other awesome dream where i ransacked a chinese sweat shop that mass produced counterfeit banana republic luxe credit cards, slapped a woman in the face, stole a baby, ran through a waterpark, witnessed the baby turn into a frog, and then walked home in the clear since i couldn't get charged with kidnapping because there wasn't a baby as proof anymore. Now that i think about it, maybe i should have told that story in entirety instead. But i will tell you one thing, finding photos of local scenery and celebrities is much easier than finding images of babies morphing into frogs. I would know, i tried...

"would it be weird if i asked if i could..."

I once read that imogen heap and guy sigsworth named their musical duo Frou Frou because it is the sound silk skirts make when women dance that drives men wild. If a sound can drive men wild, i have found the scent. 

Meet my new best friend/worst enemy. The body shop's oceanus body lotion.

Okay, this isn't a new relationship, the smell of oceanus takes me back to my pristinely clean white bathroom in high school. At the time i was a live in nanny and home quite a bit. Being home and taking care of messy kids made me overly clean. Every friday i got in the habit of deep cleaning my bathroom, from scrubbing the grout to carefully polishing the sink hardware. My sanctuary was my room and bathroom, no one else used them, they were all mine, all white, all clean, and all mine. Because i used oceanus a lot at this time, it always makes me feel clean, especially since the smell is a sweet clean laundry scent.
I always took comfort in this smell, that is until recently.

I walked into dinner group a while ago and as soon as i shut the front door a boy started loudly sniffing me, moving his head from my feet to my face. "You smell so good!" he said. The loud sniffing caught me off guard and slightly weirded me out, "Um, thanks..."

things i thought would entice boys, cute outfits.
can you tell i love dresses? a lot?
I purposely sat on the other side of the table from him while we ate but when i was leaving i was found standing next to him again. "Seriously, you smell so good! You smell like my great grandmother's house." Excuse me, your what?! He assured me that was a good smell, but seriously, I smell like old people and that turns you on?! I laughed it off like i wasn't creeped out and jokingly walked over to him (and another boy to asked if he could smell) stretched my nimble leg in the air and as gracefully as vanna white presented my leg for a millisecond snif.  

Then the second boy chased me out the door to ask me on a date.

part of my vast rainbow high heel collection
At church three days later, the first boy walked across an entire row of seats to sit in the vacant seat next to me. I had my suspicions but gave him the benefit of the doubt. A couple hours later i was talking to a friend in the bishop's office when out of the corner i heard "you smell so good." I turned to him and said, "that is the only reason you sat next me isn't it?!" not even sheepishly he answered "well, kinda, you just smell so good." I asked him if he wanted me to give him some of the lotion so he could smell it whenever he wanted but he said that it is my scent mixed with it. Creepy. I then slid out of the room sideways laughing a broken awkward laugh...

I had always thought that boys would notice more outward attempts at being lovely. I liked to think that when i dressed up, that is what would entice the boys--my intense collection of classy dresses and skittle assortment of rockin heels. Little did i know that it only takes a quarter size of fragrant moisturizer to make the heads turn.

Unfortunately, not the right heads. 

At fhe a week ago--a month after i was first smelled--i ran into the boy again. He casually looks over at me and says "hello bethany, would it be weird if i asked if i could smell you?" yes, yes it would. 

I told him i stopped wearing that lotion. He wasn't surprised that it was because of him. 

Don't loudly sniff girls. It is strange. And it made me stop wearing one of my favorite things.
my sister mallory, but my outfit, aren't we cute when we try? 

i want to go to there

we dance alike 
I have found a new love, 30 Rock. Why oh why did it take me so long to realize exactly how wonderful this show is?! The best part of the show of course is Liz Lemon and well--lets face it--we are pretty similar.

When Lemon's bra fell apart at work, i applauded her creative solution of scotch tape.

When she ate a PopTart that she found under the couch, i was jealous, the rare PopTart is pretty delicious.

we both love photography
When she had a false positive pregnancy test because of the copious amount of Mexican Cheetos she ate, i thought of my addiction of Natural Cheetos.

When she wants a baby but can't find any guy she would want to procreate with, it reminds me how i have a 97% chance of not being impregnated by going to bed before 10pm on a regular basis.

When she curses wearing nylons and spandex and it reminds me that i believe that a man that hates women invented nylons.

and the list goes on.

So here are my favorite Liz Lemon quotes:

we all know i LOVE to eat
-Lovers.. oh, that word bums me out unless it’s between meat and pizza.

-You are my heroine! And by heroine I mean lady hero. I don’t want to inject you and listen to jazz.

-My heart’s pounding like I’m watching Oprah’s farewell season.

-Jack Donaghy is gonna kill me and then he’s gonna kill you and then he’s gonna fold us up in a pizza and eat us.

-I want to go to there.

um this doesn't quite fit, i have never seen a Harry Potter film
-Hey, nerds! Who’s got two thumbs, speaks limited French, and hasn’t cried once today? [pointing thumbs at self] This moi.

-Thanks, it’s my own recipe. I use cheddar cheese instead of water

-Man, three weddings in one day, I’m going to be in Spanx for 12 hours. My elastic line is gonna get infected again.

-No, I'm going to tell Drew that I'm having a little welcome to the building party for him but there is no party and then when he shows up I'll laugh and say 'oh it's the wrong night' and then he'll laugh and say one glass couldn't hurt and then I will put my mouth on his mouth.

i have a secret, i kinda loved the Oprah show, that is until my roommates told me that i wasn't allowed to watch it anymore
because Diana and i cried too much during her touching episodes...

And then today i felt like i had a Liz Lemon moment. You see, one day my friend told me that he looked me up in the church directory but couldn't find me. I of course gave him a hard time, "I am on the last page, my picture is pretty big, you can't miss me. Way to try and make yourself look good by saying you 'tried' to find me..."

So it turns out he was right. I am not in the directory, well not his or anyone elses but my own. Apparently the people that were putting the thing together didn't realize until they got to my house--to deliver my copy--that i wasn't in it. They promptly added me to the last page and gave me the only copy. This seems like something Studio 6h would do to Liz... everyone knows but her...haha

the end is in sight

In case you didn't know, i am in the sixth year of my undergrad.

SIX YEARS. for what? that's right, a degree in art.

For some reason--unbeknownst to me--i decided to put off my worst G.E.s until the last possible semester. That means that this semester, when i should be out frolicking in the sunshine, i am taking English 312 and Civilization 202 along with my BFA final paper proposal. 9 credits of sheer essay hell.

I have 13 hours to write a 5 page paper on Christian art depicting the annunciation through the 15-20th centuries. Once I turn that in, I have 7 hours to write a four page paper on how Mormon movies are detrimental to our society (oh and sleep, eat and work).

and this is how i am going to survive the next 20 hours...

i think i have a coca cola problem. nothing beats
a cold coke zero with an entire fresh lime squeezed in it.
oh yeah, 8 cups of muddy buddies washed down with three types of coke. 

he loves me. he loves me not. take two.

have i mentioned how much i
LOVE this show?
my new life goal is have a story
featured in an episode.
I realized something awful after i published my last post: it came across way too depressing and my normal humor and wit was lacking. This post will therefore be a replacement for the last, less-than-desirable, post.

Today i was doing what i normally do, listening to This American Life while i work (or disinfect levi's usually very nasty dish situation in the kitchen...). One of the episodes that i was engrossed in was about break ups (the most current episode which can be streamed from their site). Everyone has them, they are probably the most common thing among humans, yet when it happens to us we feel like no one could possibly know the pain. And some of us, just want to be able to write heart throbbing lyrics about our recently failed relations.

I may or may not have recently started a phone conversation the following way with a fellow that i had been going on dates with for a couple months:

"so... can you just tell me why i'm that girl that never really dates anyone? I mean, out of the three guys that halfway dated me in the last year, you are on the nice end of the spectrum and are probably the only one that would tell me..."

This was not a break up, we were never dating. It is obviously not a break up when the conversation has a fair bit of laughing and sarcasm from both sides. But none-the-less, laughter aside, i was frustrated with my dating history 

self portrait 2010, untitled 
"sleepless nights due to neighbors that never turn off their blasted porch light..."
I have decided that i would rather not date people at all so i can feel justified in my self pity of loneliness, or i want a boy to REALLY break up with me. The type of relationship demise that has its roots so deep in drama and tears that it has the potential to be the meat and potatoes of the next chart topping love song. All i currently have it half-assed relationships that leave me not justified to complain about never going on dates but at the same time the dates aren't leading anywhere so i never get the "i could write a cheesy bubbly love song about this" or "this sucked so bad i am going to write the most depressing break up song ever. evvveerrr."

have i mentioned that i do not write music? yeah, that doesn't matter, it is the principle. And who knows? Maybe i've just never had the fiery fuel to write a song, perhaps i am just one break up--or torrid love affair--away from billboard gold. Or i could finally have good stories for the seemingly dark self portraits i seem to create for class...

What have i got from my previous relations (some probably don't even deserve the word 'relationship')? Nothing worth writing about. 

-at 16 i actually had a boyfriend, the only time the 'title' happened. This relationship lasted about six months but was high school mormon dating which equals not real dating. You know the type, you are best friends and everyone knows your dating and after a couple months they kiss you, real heavy stuff.

-a couple boys who i would rather forget that i ever knew let alone kissed...

-My freshmen year of college i kinda dated a great guy. We never officially dated, he kissed me the night before he went home for the summer and then one visit and a couple months later he went on a two year mission. We wrote the entire time but when he got home i freaked out (I was terrified of the stereotypical return missionary that is pining for marriage). 

He got married last week.

self portrait 2009 "i can do hard things"
-Last summer i thought i was dating a kid but it turns out he never really told anyone about me and when someone called him my boyfriend he freaked out and broke up with me. (which is ironic to feel the need to break up when apparently i wasn't his girlfriend...)

-and now my newest phenomenon, a variation of: 
boys that know me but never talk to me. One day that actually talk to me and decide i am super cool, hangout with me a ton and then drop off the face of the earth. 

I guess i could write a deep despairing love song about my high school romance. No, that won't really work, i was more distraught about the boy starting to drink and what not the year after we broke up then actually breaking up. I don't think a break up song about high school drinking would top any charts.

There could be something good about the boy that got married, but i was so afraid of marriage that i never talked about anything too deep. A break up song with no gut wrenching emotion filled conversation doesn't win either. 

This leaves me empty. Empty of fuel for lyrics. Empty of fuel for blogging. Empty. 

With this, I succumb to the most low form of dating. It has to be better than what i am getting myself. I hereby will accept dates from others, aka blind dates. I have never been a fan before, the boy who called himself 'Buck' that didn't really talk our whole date probably killed that, but i am willing to let bygones be bygones and try it out again. But, if you feel the need to set me up you must think that we are compatible and don't just fit the criteria of 'well, their both single...'

Perhaps with your help i could finally have that torrid love affair, or at least something.

And for the record, the things that came from that phone conversation about what i need to work on in dating are as follows in case you feel the need to tell the blind date participant why i am currently single: i am forward at the wrong times, i sometimes text too often, i make it too easy for boys that are not interested to spend time with me (i will blame that on my generosity and delectable cooking skills), and i read all and every sign the exact wrong way (like that creepy girl in the He Love Me He Loves Me Not french film).

But on the flip side you can go ahead and tell that: I am independent/self sufficient, witty, decent at dressing myself, martha stewart-ish, classy, well read, at times athletic, and basically just all around fantastic. 

he loves me. he loves me not.

"so... can you just tell me why i'm that girl that never really dates anyone? I mean, out of the three guys that halfway dated me in the last year, you are on the nice end of the spectrum and are probably the only one that would tell me..."

No, i didn't recently start a phone conversation with that... okay, maybe i did.

every post that involves something off about myself deserves one good photo.
I pride myself in my ability to dress myself.
Today i pretty much looked like this
(but subtract the hipster glasses and replace them with classy square frames)
but add a blue necklace, lime green shoes, a pink/orange bag, and purple nails.
A rainbow explosion at its best.

Here is brief history of my dating.

-at 16 i actually had a boyfriend, the only time the 'title' happened. This relationship lasted about six months but was high school mormon dating which=not real dating. You know the type, you are best friends and everyone knows your dating and after a couple months they kiss you, real heavy stuff.

-a couple boys who i would rather forget that i ever knew let alone kissed...

-My freshmen year of college i kinda dated a great guy. We never officially dated, he kissed me the night before he went home for the summer and then one visit and a couple months later he went on a two year mission. We wrote the entire time but when he got home i freaked out (I was terrified of the stereotypical return missionary that is pining for marriage). 

He got married last week.

-Last summer i thought i was dating a kid but it turns out he never really told anyone about me and when someone called him my boyfriend he freaked out and broke up with me. 

-and now my newest phenomenon, a variation of: 
boys that know me but never talk to me. One day that actually talk to me and decide i am super cool, hangout with me a ton and then drop off the face of the earth. 

This takes us to my recent phone call. 

For the last couple months I have been spending time with a certain fellow. We have mutual friends and met a year and half ago but only really started hanging out recently. 

This is where is gets sticky. You see, i now view myself as the main character of He Loves Me He Loves Me Not (a fantastic french film, go netflix it.) The tagline should explain it, "Is she crazy in love, or just crazy." Turns out I am the 'just crazy' type.

We went on numerous dates, or accidental dates as he called them. People would refer to us as dating when we were out and he would always make some agreeing statement. He called me Honey, came over one night at midnight just to say hi because he felt like he hadn't seen me in a long time (it had been a week), asked me about a boy i didn't date last year--he wanted to make sure he wasn't doing the same things that turned me off...

And the list continues. 

To me--in public--it looked like we were dating. However, we weren't. We did hold hands once, but that is one of those situations where i still can't decide if he wasn't trying but i thought he was so i went with it, or if he was legitimately trying...

After a couple months of this i was sorely confused and annoyed so i called him out on it. He apparently didn't see the same things and was more than a little surprised at my view. During our conversation i asked him why i never really date and what i need to work on. After an hour i feel that most of the things he told me where things about himself and not me (oh the irony, i ask and can't accept, we never want to see ourselves as less than awesome). He said i was too forward but also said he likes forward girls. He said i text too much but still texted me to hangout. He said i make it too easy for non-interested boys to spend time with me yet he made the first move and had me over for cinnamon rolls and took me to a movie three days after we first hungout. Basically i feel it all boils down to attraction and though he didn't say it, he was never interested. This is what makes me that crazy girl. That girl that read every sign possible, the exact wrong way.

As i have been blowing through discs of Mad Men--before Netflix charges me more to view dvds at home--i found this great quote:

"So do you go on those dates were you ask each other questions?"
"Its a means to an end."
"But nobody knows whats wrong with themselves, i mean everyone else can see it right away."

And since i already opened pandora's box about my less than desirable qualities, i might as well continue. here is the list of things i am working on:

-i am better at talking about myself than asking questions about you-i do not shower everyday-i can be a bit overwhelming on the text front-i give awkward goodbyes-i say whatever i am thinking which can sometimes be inappropriate-i would rather do everything myself than let someone help me-i am slightly addicted to shopping, mainly at banana republic-

And now that i am a self proclaimed 'crazy girl' and am having zero success at dating on my own. I hereby change my previous dating practices and will go willingly on any blind date any lovely creature plans. The only stipulation is that you actually think we are compatible and don't just set me up because we are both single...

oh on a side now... said fellow is a great guy and we are still friends. It is amazing what actually talking to someone about why you aren't dating makes things less awkward.

if you knew me solely from facebook...

I had a realization. My facebook statuses make me look like a fat zit faced teenager with zero social skills. 

If you only knew me through facebook, imagine what picture these statuses would paint in your mind... (and these only have to do with my physical appearance...)

read this blog.
it is hilarious and reminds me how i feel sometimes about food.
God of Cake, Hyperbole and a Half

my shorts match my toenails. who knew that GAP carries Skanky Barbie Fuchsia colored clothes?! 

i feel like i am going to vomit. is it nerves, or that ridiculously large chimichanga i just ate? 

Bethany looks likes someone smashed Cheetos on her face. 

i have a heating pad stuck to my back, my right foot is still swollen and bruised, and i have blood running from my heel into my shoe. i thought i had at least 40 more years until my body started falling apart.

either i got bit by a gnarly bug or has the worlds largest zit. either way, my eye is swelling shut... 

why i like hanging out in the hfac print lab: "i like your sideburns, i mean the lack there of. They have a nice shape, they aren't like guys since you don't have facial hair."- Brannon 

my purple hair.
i think i looked better as a brunette instead of a purplette. christmas eve dye job fail. 

i made an arm sling out of my sweater belt. classy. 

i woke up with mascara on my chin. how the? 

Levi informed me that today my shoes are outlandish in both color and height. 
Did it seriously take him 4 straight years of working everyday with me to catch on to that? 
you always (secretly) hope that the day you run into your arch-nemesis after many years you look beyond fantastic, alas when that happened to me today i had a frumpy braid, extra big sweater, one fist holding a chunk of fudge and the other shoving a cookie into my mouth... i guess they just won again. damn.

I am going to go ahead and pretend that since I can't see my butt hanging out the four inch hole in my shorts, no one else can either... 

When you go to school with no makeup or deodorant, wearing sweat pant shorts and your sister's maternity shirt, your day only has the possibility of getting better. 

But the hard truth is, I have photographic evidence that this does indeed paint an accurate picture of me. (and sadly, the photos even say more and are more frequent...)

case and point

And then there are the statuses that make me look like i have zero social skillz, to go with my 'i just ate an entire batch of cookie dough' persona...

when i put on my sunglasses i thought, "wow this is like the recovery slider in the RAW window of Photoshop..." and that is when i realized i am a huge nerd.
these are just so i feel better about my self.

Day #3 of using a princess sandwich tupperware as a water glass. time to do the dishes at the office... 

i feel pathetic, either too much photographing or too much invoice folding (at super sonic speeds) has landed me in a wrist brace. 

i hope God has a replay button for our lives. I really want to know who screamed first in their sleep last night which caused me and Jenny to end up in a bear hug (complete with her nails digging into my arm) screaming at each other in terror. we also  terrified ada which added to the screaming mayhem. fun times at the Davis household at 3:45 in the am...

thank you, efy boy, that flirted with me today. even though you may have thought i was 14, my dating moral has still been boosted. 

apparently my long jumping skills were much better in the 8th grade. Hey running clothes and iPhone, meet the middle of this super muddy and merky marsh! 

see, i can be cute.
days that start with car failure and end with a razor blade lodged in my finger are pretty memorable.

thanks to Carrie and Jenny, I now have a tag line for my blog. I am cool in a perfectly awkward, uncool way. exactly what i always wanted to be!

So I just accidentally went to a midnight showing of Thor by myself. I am awesome.

mom "you should really go to that big east coast single adult conference next summer, it sounds like a fun vacation and it is full of doctors and lawyers, real catches...
me "so you have that little of faith in my dating skills that you are planning a year in advance to find me a date."
mom "oh no, i mean, it just seems like..." 

apparently texting people when deliriously tired is equivalent to drunk dialing. 

no i didn't do that recently...to a boy...that i want to date. 


Though amidst the unbecoming statuses there were a few gems that give a hint as to my true awesomeness, i would say that my social networking skills need a bit of help.

he kicked the bucket!

We all have bucket lists. Sure they became more prevalent after the Morgan Freeman movie, but we all know we secretly had one before those two crusty old men made them hip. 

My friend Allison, was recently reading me hers and it inspired me for the first time to jot down my own list.  There are a few that i have tried-some failed miserably and some (1?) been conquered-but the best ones are still awaiting my mad conquering skillz. 

And with that, meet my current 'Bucket List.' 

Now lets hope that it isn't like my favorite Bright Eyes song, Nothing Gets Crossed Out, and more like the opening sequence of It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World where i will 'kick the bucket' with as much vigor as a decrepit dying old man. 

Now as for the ones that i have tried and failed:

Hike Timp: 
Well i tried once and alas my friends and i took a wrong turn and ended up going 4 miles in the opposite direction, that kinds kills your desire to hike another entire trail...
Then i have tried doing the midnight hike a couple of times but my 'friends' have bailed every time.
I need new friends. Now accepting applications for friends that like hiking, oh and me. You must like me. 

Eat an ENTIRE box or Oreos in one sitting:
Let's just say that i have never felt so putrid/nauseated/overdosed on shortening in all of my life. But one day, perhaps when i am great with child and crave gross thing, i will power through the pain.

Sky Dive in New Zealand:
I had the option to sky dive in the most beautiful country in the whole world and i passed it up to buy a couch when i came back to the states (it made sense at the time, they were about the same price). I love my couch, but sky diving probably would have been more memorable... So sometimes i dive into my couch and pretend that New Zealand is below me, it has yet to evoke any sort of adventurer spirit in me... perhaps i should try jumping off my ottoman into the couch, you know, get a bit more height...

Now for the ones that i am in the process of completing:
Own enough books for a home library:
I am currently at 324 which doesn't account the few that are out on loan. By the way, i have great taste in literature. never doubt me. And 1000 books is probably not enough, lets shoot for 10k  

Visit every continent:
I have been to: North America, Europe, and Asia, less than half, weak i know...  oh wait, Lynsey reminded me that we went to New Zealand and Australia for Thanksgiving. Chalk that up to 4!

Bury a Treasure:
I don't like to spend $1 bills, it makes me not use as much cash and pass up on the small things. Because of this i have a secret spot in my apartment for all of my ones. One day, these will be the base of my buried treasure OR i will tape them to the back of a work of art so when someone 100 years from now finds my 'fine art' photograph at a yard sale they will be pleasantly surprised by the hundreds of dollars hiding in the homemade frame.                

Have a Six Pack:
Jillian Michaels has been kicking my trash for the last week... she claims that you can look like her work out lackey (who has a killer stomach) in 'no time at all' with her shredded workout, she best be telling the truth...

Have a Sappy Romance Worthy of an Olson Twin Movie/Get Married:
um yeah, perhaps my post on dating would enlighten this subject... Dating is weird and this crazy phenomenon keeps happening; boys know me for a long time but never hang out, they hangout with me once and decide i am very cool,/witty/awesome/good cook etc., they hangout with me a lot for a month (or a few if i am lucky) and then they drop off the face of the earth. i should work on that.

They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, if that were true i would have been a child bride. liars. but that doesn't stop me from having a dozen dark chocolate/peanut butter cupcakes in my oven at this very moment.

And for the ones that are DONE.

Own a home:
My siblings and i just purchased a home together. I don't own 100% of it, but for now 12% is okay by me.

Go to a Movie Alone:
I have never wanted to be one of those people who is afraid of being alone, hence i wanted to do the thing that most people never do alone. I haphazardly fulfilled this one: meet one of my recent Facebook statuses: (and yes it was a thursday night which made it all the more random...)
you see, a boy invited me to go see Thor with his friends for his birthday. 
I don't think that accidentally going into the wrong theater and thinking that i was only a few rows below him and his friends won me any points in the 'awesome and smart girl' category...

But hey, at least a dozen of my facebook friends enjoyed my amazing mistake.

oh i guess there are few more i am half way through completing.
i have seen about a bajillion bands, including almost touching Bono last week, if only i was ten feet tall instead of 5'4"... 

oh and i am trying to cook more. 

(bands i have seen, and yes i realize that some are WAY better than others, but if i'm counting i'm going to count them all)
1. the band of annuals 2. the get up kids (x3) 3. the format (x3) 4. the counting crows 5. the all american rejects 6. limbeck 7. ben folds 8. beruit 9. belle and sebastian 10. bright eyes 11. stars 12. the aquabats 13. dashboard confessional 14. she & him 15. modest mouse (x2) 16. harry connick jr. 17. U2 18. the fray 19. the new amsterdams (x2) 20. Mae 21. vendetta red 22. anathalo 23. matisyahu 24. built to spill (x3) 25. death cab for cutie 26. doug martsch 27. the killers 28. rilo kiley 29. m. ward 30. rooney 31. sufjan stevens 

dating daterton


I feel like I am always surrounded by that word. Dating. It is mentioned in church weekly, my professors try to set up their students, random people want to know why I’m single, it is everywhere.

The problem with dating, I don’t understand it in the slightest.

One of my professors said that dating is the definition of insanity; you keep doing the same thing over and over hoping for a different outcome.

Insanity. He nailed it.

I think that a lot of discussion on dating has been spurred do to a talk given by President Thomas S. Monson (President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) a few months ago. The talk was directed at young men in the church, and this was the main gist of it:

A post on mormon dating should probably
contain some more dating signage.
yeah baby.
“Now, I have thought a lot lately about you young men who are of an age to marry but who have not yet felt to do so. I see lovely young ladies who desire to be married and to raise families, and yet their opportunities are limited because so many young men are postponing marriage.

Perhaps you are having a little too much fun being single, taking extravagant vacations, buying expensive cars and toys, and just generally enjoying the carefree life with your friends. I’ve encountered groups of you running around together, and I admit that I’ve wondered why you aren’t out with the young ladies.”

I wonder also, why aren’t you (the boys) out with the amazing young ladies like myself?

I feel like most girls blame the boys for our dating woes, but lets be honest, if dates aren’t happening some of it has to be the girls fault. I mean if we were doing everything right the boys wouldn’t be able to contain themselves and would actually ask girls out. And in return, if boys were doing everything right, girls wouldn’t be complaining about the dumb thing the last guy that took them out did or how they aren’t getting asked out at all.

In this lies the secret to the dating dilemma, once we know what each sex is sucking at, hopefully we can find a solution.

The problem: what exactly are girls and guys doing wrong?

Let’s start with the ladies.

My dear friend Richard recently wrote a column for the Utah Statesman entitled: To The Single Ladies of Logan, in which he outlined what he viewed as our faults and follies (needless to say he has gotten more hate mail than all the other regular writers combined). His main points included prioritizing, honesty, communication, maintenance, and perfection. Basically, his encounters with the opposite sex have taught him that women don’t know how to show a guy they are truly interested (or disinterested), that honesty is lacking, they expect the guy to be able to read minds, and they take too much time applying gaudy makeup or the exact opposite and are sloppy. Though his column was harsh and the word witch was used incessantly, I found myself laughing and picturing different girls that I know for each unfortunate description. 

And with that here is my own list of problems that girls have, myself included:

Honesty: telling a guy why you don’t want to date him is a courtesy not a backhanded thing to do
Communication: guys will never understand girls, make your communication more direct and easily decipherable. I hear that guys realize you like them if you touch them while you talk to them (don’t take my word for it, I haven’t dated anyone in a year)
Appearance: don’t pretend that guys are being shallow by asking the good looking girls out, don’t dress sloppy and put a few minutes thought into your dress/hair/makeup
Openness: don’t always be so busy that guys can’t ever get to know you or take you out. Even if you are busy don’t let them know that. Staying up all night to finish a project that a boy didn’t know about so you could go out with him aint so bad every once and a while.
Humor: everyone does stupid things, be able to laugh at yourself and awkward situations on dates, chance is the date realizes it is just as awkward as you do
Bitterness: no guy wants to ask out a bitter girl. No girls want to be your friend either for that matter.

Now onto the male species:

Communication: you are champions at leading girls on. If you like a girl, spend time with her, if you don’t, don’t ask her to do things with or for you. (that includes meals, those of you freeloading)
Judging: I would say that most guys are quick to judge girls based solely on their appearance. Give a girl more than a once over before you ask her out, it could save you from a terribly boring night where you end up just making out because she can’t hold a conversation and it gives girls a chance that aren’t the drop dead gorgeous stereotype. 95% of men are dating 5% of the women or something like that…
Acceptance: If a girl is hinting that they like you, accept it and act appropriately. If a girl is saying no, accept it and move on.
Finance: don’t plan expensive dates, it makes you not want to date and breaks the bank.
Commitment: only hardcore pursue a girl if you are genuinely interested. Cut the noncommittal crap.

The other hard to handle and awkward new phenomenon now invading dating is social media. Let’s be honest, first dates are no longer ‘get to know you’ dates. We all know that once we have the remotest romantic interest in a person we facebook, blog and anything else on the internet stalk them. We also almost always start texting the interested party before a date ever transpires. Now not only do I have to look good for a date in real life, I am supposed to be witty at a moments notice when they get the hankering to send me a text. 

I am screwed.

And after writing all this I realize that it didn’t solve anything.

Dating is still a mystery and we all, unfortunately, are it's slave until we have that marriage license tacked up on our living room wall.

Best of luck to all the single ladies and gents.

waiver has been approved

It is no secret that i loath the BYU Off Campus Housing Office. BYU has a lot of great things, i wouldn't be starting my 3rd senior year if that wasn't true, but the housing lacks even the most common sense.

A little background: this one time my terrible landlord did a slue of illegal things and then topped off my tenancy with threatening to ruin my credit and put a hold on my academic account at BYU (neither of which she had power to do anyway). I spoke with BYU OCH (Off Campus Housing) about my problems at least 4 times and they never helped me. Even though my landlord changed the locks without telling me, which left me locked out in the middle of the night with nowhere to go, the only thing BYU said was, 'well if you go to court and win let us know and then we will help you.'

Needless to say i went to court and won. It was glorious, my old landlord looked like a babbling fool. Her only defense was that: everyone hates Bethany so it was okay that i treated her like crap too. (don't worry, not everyone hated me, just those two roommates that i never care to see again if i live to be 107).

If you want the full story on housing issues at BYU and what I presented to the OCH, go to this blog post.

That was all a while ago. 

I had been to BYU OCH at least a dozen times since the beginning of my problems until last fall. After having a meeting with the entire OCH staff and telling them that said landlord even lost a master key to the complex and hadn't re keyed (the key was missing for 18 months before she recovered it, still she did not re-key the apartments), having a very candid phone conversation with Garry Briggs-where he pretended like he had no idea who i was even though i had been in his office less than a month ago presenting for an hour to his staff, talking to the rep over my old complex who said she wasn't sure of the laws regarding missing keys and therefore they weren't going to do anything, and then reading an article in the Daily Universe about housing, i decided to write a letter to the editor.


I thought that it was funny that on the same day this article was published i submitted my most recent housing waiver. I had forgotten about the letter since it was published almost two weeks after i wrote it, but it was very fitting that it was all the same day.

Meet my latest housing waiver that BYU approved today:

"Because of the many encounters I have had with the BYU Off Campus Housing office in the past two years and the lack of respect and due diligence on their part to keep me and my residential facility safe, I feel that I have no option but to not reside in housing that is affiliated with BYU, owned or accredited.

I have talked to every member of the OCH permanent staff, including attending and presenting at one of their weekly meetings. Though I brought a number of legitimate concerns and student complaints to them, they neglected to ever contact my landlord or follow up in any way to the allegations.

Once when speaking to Craig Thomas about my lackluster view of BYU Housing and that I did not feel safe living there and never would again, he simply replied, "I don't blame you."

And with that, I assume that there are no intentions of fixing any of the problems that students present, even when like me, they bring a court verdict in their favor from a recent law suit against their 'BYU Accredited' landlord. Because of this, I trust my own decision making skills over where I should reside and the safety of my residential unit, than that of BYU and an unit that they have not visited or reviewed in no one knows how many years.

In short: In the past I did not feel safe in my BYU Accredited unit and due to the lack of concern from the BYU OCH office, I feel that I cannot trust OCH opinion of which units provide appropriate living and safety standards."

I wonder if Craig Thomas or Garry Briggs saw either my letter to the editor or my waiver...

i here by declare today, a reese's holiday

 I love reese's.

I love normal reese's cups
 but more than that, 
i love the seasonal reese's tree/heart/egg/pumpkin.

I don't just love reese's, i might have a slight addiction. 
(you can probably tell this by how many images are in this post, it rivals the amounts in post about my lovable family)

Easter for me means lots of reese's, don't get me wrong, i celebrate for all the right reasons too and understand Passover, Good Friday and Easter Sunday, but for the commercial aspects of Easter it is all about reese's, none of that crappy chocolate coated in an 'egg' like shell. gross. 

Last year, bless her soul, this was my Easter basket from Mother Dearest. It might not have been large, but she knew that the only thing i really wanted was one of those eggs so it was perfect. perfect in all of its tiny glory.

My love of the holiday reese's has been around probably since i discovered their goodness. They have the perfect chocolate to peanut butter ratio, which by the way is WAY more peanut butter than chocolate. They are easier to crumble on top of ice cream. The chocolate layer is easier to peel off so you can enjoy just the peanut butter. They are perfect in every way.

Last year i had a disappointing experience involving reese's. The following email was sent to my siblings after i purchased our Mom's Christmas present. I told them how much each of them owed me and included methods of payment. More disappointing to me than not receiving even one payment in back tickles was the fact that no one paid me in reese's Christmas trees. Two of my sisters said that they were afraid i was going to eat my self into an oblivion. Stupid sisters that look out for you girlish figure...

This year i decided i would take my reese's fate into my own hands.

Meet my best/worst decision: the 6 oz egg. 

I somehow convinced a boy that we should go on an adventure to find/eat these. Of course being a boy, he decided that we should each get one. WHAT THE?! I could have told you that 6 oz is enough for a small army but he must have been a reese's novice. Needless to say we both only ate about a quarter and then admitted defeat. The said boy just laid on my family room floor the rest of the night. I think i killed him. Okay he isn't dead but he told me last week that he hasn't been able to look at a reese's since.

This sucker is not for the faint of heart. It even took me two weeks to want to each a normal size egg again.

Then it was the monday after Easter which equals National Half Price Reese's Egg Day! Even if the large egg almost caused cardiac arrest, i couldn't pass up the chance to stock up on the delectable treats. You see, the next holiday that has a specially shaped reese's is halloween, you can't have a 6 month drought, my body won't allow it.

Don't worry, i didn't buy any of the large eggs, the chocolate is just too thick and the egg too hugantic. But i did buy a year supply of normal eggs, 36 to be exact.

Now when you come to my lovely apartment you are greeted with a large supply of eggs, exactly how every apartment should be.

and on a completely unrelated note, i split my pants again today (the other side split two weeks ago). I swear this was a work related box lifting injury and not the fact that i just bought 6480 calories worth of reese's...

'you rang?'

When i was younger i always thought that it would be cool to resemble a celebrity. You know, have people mistake you for that awesome person, try and get free swag, etc. But then i decided that i didn't want this when i realized that the only 'celebrity' that i resembled was Zoey from the PBS show Zoom. My niece and nephew thought it was cool and would talk about it but it wasn't cool to really anyone else, me included.

I thought that was bad enough, then my sister pointed out an ever worse look alike.

I call my sister jenny like every other day, or like twice in one day if you are referencing yesterday... Lately whenever she answers, or leaves a voice message, she says 'You rang?' in this super nerdy/nasally/little boy voice. I couldn't figure out why she did this, i assumed it was just another random phase like when she talks like a duck or something weird. I finally asked her what the deal was and she goes, 'don't you remember watching Little Giants? That picture on your blog of you in my West uniform looks just like the nerdy kid who says that in the movie...'

Crap. It is true, i looked just like the scrawny boy that is only remembered for blowing the biggest snot bubbles ever. 

Maybe now is a bad time to mention that this one time, mallory and i were so bored at my uncles house that we would blow our nose as hard as we could and then run to the mirror to see who's snot was farthest down their face. Oh the things we do to entertain ourselves as children.

the mommy closet

I have a confession.

I can't wait until i have kids.

This may come as a surprise to some, i generally like to stay in the mommy closet and don't admit that i want to have a litter of those snotty nose creatures crawling all over me like a jungle gym one day. But, just because i say i want kids, don't get this confused with being 'baby hungry' which implies to the hopes to be impregnated in the near future.

best nanny ever, can't you tell?
In high school i thought that one day i would have maybe two kids, and not for a very, very, verrrry long time. This was probably due to the fact that at seventeen i gave up the normal ruckus that comes with being a high school student to become a single mother of three at times. I was a live-in nanny for my older sister, though i didn't have her kids 24/7, i did have entire weekends, and the occasional week, where the kids were all mine. Those things that most women get accustomed to once they birth a child, you know, the gross stuff, i am already too familiar with. I have cleaned up my share of peed on carpets, blown out diapers, and the occasional-worst fear-liquid pooh that drips down your own leg because you made the fatal mistake of trying to carry the poor sick child to the bathroom. You know you have cleaned up too many messes when your favorite pastime becomes washing and folding laundry, it smells fantastic and doesn't whine or yell. The laundry room became my sanctuary.

It took me a few years after this to realize that yes, i do want my own kids. Not that i didn't love my niece and nephews, i did and still do for that matter. There is just something different when you realize that one day you will have your own kids that will be part crazy just like you.

Three and Five from Bethany Davis on Vimeo.

I am pretty sure that part of my recent fascination with offspring is due to this video that i recently shot and edited. I am in a beginning film class and was supposed to make a video with a story. As i was getting ready to travel to the east coast i decided that i might as well shoot some of the most adorable kids that i know in hopes that i could get something that could become a short film. I followed Simon and Ada around for a day and let them do what they do best, be kids. When i went to class yesterday my professor asked me why i created the video, my response was about how i wanted to create a 'home video' of sorts that i wished i had. My goal was to capture an average day instead of the generic holiday program or birthday party.

It's the normal days like this, caught on film, that make me want kids. I am excited to be able to mold little minds and play all sorts of random make believe games that I don't understand. I am ready to get away with: cutting the crust off sandwiches, tickle baby backs, have an excuse to buy the amazingly scented Johnson's Baby shampoo-that i may or may not use myself, coach soccer-teach that you can simply step on the other side of the ball instead of taking the entire field's width to go the other direction, watch Arthur on PBS, induct a children's section into my library, eat M&Ms out of measuring cups, and basically just be awesome.

my newborn photo,
 'i look like benjamin button' photo
 'lobster claw baby' photo.
One day i will be that crazy lady down the street that builds forts in her front room with her kids so intense, that she has to crawl through the tunnel of sheets just to open the front door. Until then, i will just keep winning the hearts of my many nieces and nephews as their favorite Aunt Bethy.

Let's just hope that i marry a super attractive fellow so my kids can take after him as a wee babe...

Maybe in the meantime i will also start writing a series of children's books. Have you seen some of them lately? Seriously, they suck. I could do this. I WILL do this. Jenny Kimball, get ready to become by business partner.

damn you, hitchcock

Recently one of my friends was surprised to hear that i am not afraid of living alone.  Honestly, it isn't that bad, i live in a safe area and have neighbors all of ten feet from me so i never feel too uncomfortable, that is-until i have to shower.

Showering in an empty house has always given me the heebeegeebees. There is something so unsettling about being in a house and then in a bathroom and then in a shower behind the curtain. So many spaces within a space, it is like being the littlest nesting doll-then to top it off you are being pelted by water. Horrible.

I have however found a solution to my showering woes. And no, it is not showering less (we all know that is virtually impossible...). I, being the cheap housewares connoisseur that i am, only purchased the clear inside shower curtain. Since my bathroom is so small and doesn't have a vent, i have to shower with the door open. Now with the clear curtain i can see 25% of my apartment while showering. Problem solved, i have now migrated from a nesting doll-stuck in a dark cramped space, to a baby kangaroo-only partially in the pouch.

I am pretty sure that my fear of showers came from my childhood obsession with $0.49 classic movie rentals at Hastings. Everyday during the summer i would ride my bike to Hastings and pick out a new movie. I am pretty sure i have seen every Audrey Hepburn, Gary Grant, Fred Astaire, Doris Day, Jimmy Stewart and Alfred Hitchcock film Hastings carried. I adored all of them, probably too much for a 10 year old born in the 80's and not the 40's... all that is, but Psycho. Even though i had watched a behind the scenes on Hitchcock and knew that the blood in the infamous shower scene was chocolate syrup, i never got over the creepiness of a man dressed in women's clothes repeated stabbing a poor transient embezzler.

Yep, Psycho has to be to blame for this. Before i got super into classic movies i used to shower in the dark because we had super fun glow in the dark wallpaper. Nothing like showing with glowing kids doing cartwheels surrounding you... (the wallpaper however in sighted the need in me to do acrobatics in the shower. I am more than slightly surprised that i never broke my arm jumping between the two built in seats in the shower...)

letters, love, and high school romance

I get a little frustrated when people attack Valentine's Day. So what you aren't dating anyone, what percentage of mankind is on this one certain day anyway? Just because you aren't raptured by another doesn't mean that you can't have a stellar day. I LOVE Valentine's Day, basically i love any day that involves sending letters/cards/love notes/and has a specially shaped Reese's.
letters from all my 'missionaries'

Basically since forever, i have been saving every letter or note that i received. I am getting quite the collection (this also means that i attend way too many weddings/bridal showers/baby showers and therefore get copious amounts of thank you cards... which by the way, means i had better get a heck of a lot of people at all of those events for me.) Yesterday i went through the basket of letters and read a few, finding among some generic greetings, a few dazzling treasures.
letters from just one certain missionary
I have always had a love for letters. When my siblings were in college i would write them fairly often, and no, my spelling hasn't really improved since then. Even as s child i knew that letters have an aesthetic presence that can't be beat, i love a simple envelope sealed with wax. This is probably why i was so good at writing missionaries, i loved the visual final of the letters. One time i was writing around twenty different boys that were on missions. I didn't write them all a ton, some only got a few letters over the years but the lucky few got more than a handful. Because of this i was also graced with a number of letters.  It was hilarious going back through them, especially the Valentine's Day cards pretending to be in love with me (i think they just wanted more letters...) -side note, i went to one mission reunion with a friend and someone referenced me as the girl with the cool envelopes and wax seals, i guess my letters made it around the office...

Then there were the letters from my family. Sarah gets the award for the most creative addressing ever. Too bad i can't seem to find her Valentines, those were works of art. Any letter that is addressed to Aunt Barfy/Bethany also holds a special place in my heart, espcially when the envelopes only contain crayon drawings of ducks that look like the Pigeon books. 

There are also love notes from church. In the last couple of wards i have been in people can write notes to each other and have them delivered after church. My most favorite would be the three poems that i received from three different boys about my yellow high heels (i don't blame them, they are the most amazing shoes-quite possibly ever).

But still my most prized letter that i have is one written on Valentine's Day in 2005. In january of that year i broke up with my high school boyfriend. A few weeks later he slipped this into my hand.  We hadn't really talked since the break up, go figure, but we had been friends since elementary school. I won't bore you with the whole letter but the end was amazing. 
My favorite quote: 

"Seeing as how it is Valentine's Day i just want to say a few things. To me you are still the prettiest girl that i know...I never told you this but out of all the girls that i've kissed you were by far the best kisser. Your kiss could make an old man jump up and dance like he was young again."      

oh the wisdom of seventeen year old boys.  

Everyone needs to know that someone thinks they are pretty and amazing enough to give even old men new life. Though lets hope that i never actually find out about the old man part, unless of course i am an old bitty that is married to that old man.

Moral of the story: save all your notes so on Valentine's Day you can stop pretending that no one loves you. Have a little review of the letters and eat a heart shaped Reese's, this can cure all that ails you on such a day.

terrors in the night

this is us doing our scared faces, or how people look when
they wake up to my screaming and clawing them...
Today i had the following conversation with my sister Jenny:

            me-"Hey Jenny, remember that time last summer when we woke up screaming at each other? Yeah, last night i woke up to Milo freaking out and kicking me in the ribs, it was kinda like when you clawed me..."

            jenny- "You do realize that you are the only common denominator here, right?"

I have a long history of sleep walking, talking, dancing, singing, acting malicious etc. I remember when i was a young lass, only a few years old, waking up on the couch and not knowing how i got there. My parents didn't believe me when i said i got there in my sleep, well turns out it was true. 

Within the next few years my random acts of migrating from my bedroom to the couch escalated. I have always been one to go to bed fairly early, because of this my siblings were often privy to my antics. 

These antics included:

  • Carrying all my bedding upstairs, wandering back to my room where i stood curiously waiting for my sheets to reappear, or so according to Lynsey. 
  • Going to the kitchen, filling a glass of water, walking to Levi's room where i proceded to slowing empty the glass on his floor while glaring at him.
  • Telling Mallory to take out our nonexistent cat, because i of course, didn't do it yet.
  • Singing Mallory a song about how i flushed the toilet, doing a little ditty of a dance and then yelling "Make Way!" while i ran full speed and jumped on top of her in bed.
  • Getting dressed for school, usually before midnight, and then staring at the clock with my face pressed against it until it registered in my mind that it was not 7:30 yet. (this happened weekly).
  • Sitting up in bed, looking over at Mallory while pointing my finger as gun and saying, "Get out o my town..."
  • Yelling at Mallory for telling me that it wasn't time for school and to go back to bed, having Jenny come in to console me, then in between crying into Jenny, looking over at Mallory and glaring.

The instantes continued as i got older, generally it was just small things like waking up on the other side of my room or wandering around the house, but nothing terribly exciting. However, things picked up again when i got to college. 

our room, case and point
When i was a freshmen i shared a room with Diana. For a while we kept our beds on opposite sides of the room but soon it became apparent that i had a problem with keeping the area clean between our beds. This led us to pushing our beds together. This gave us ample storage space under the beds and made for entertaining evenings full of girl talk and slumber parties with our other roommate. However, moving the beds also planted the seed of sleep walking in both of us. 

Soon Diana began to cause scenes of her own. One night she sprang up yelling something about slavery and began to run off the end of our bed. She occasionally gave me American History lessons too. She however, was not the only one to run-amuck in the night. My best episode was wandering out of our apartment in the middle of the night only to wake up with my forehead against the outside of the front door with my hand on the handle. The door was open and i was standing in just my underwear and a tank top, very scandalous for BYU. One more second and i would have locked myself out. Diana and i were also constantly talking to each other when one of us was getting up early to go to work and the other was still asleep.

That was four years ago, i haven't done much of anything since then so i figured i was done. But then came Jenny and our screaming match last summer.

(this is how i imaged we looked)

Ada's infamous 'Spin and Shake,' or how i
image her spinning around my room...
Jenny came to visit which meant that i was sharing my full size bed with her and her daughter, Ada, was sleeping on the floor next to us. Neither of us like touching people in our sleep so we are pretty good at sticking to our side of the bed. In the middle of the night we both woke up, arms wrapped around each other, nails digging in, screaming at the top of our lungs at each other. After a few split seconds of this charade, we both let go and lay back, trying to catch our breath. Ada however, was spinning circles on the ground screaming. We then began to question each other as to what caused the ruckus, to this day we both think the other person started it. 

The next morning while at breakfast Ada turned to Jenny, "Mom, i don't know who screamed first, you or aunt Bethany, but i was like number 99 scared..."

This is one of the instances that i want to replay when i am in heaven, i really want to know who screamed first.

looks docile and innocent, huh?
well not in the middle of the night,
i swear it was him...

Now this exact same scenario has happened again last night. Replace Jenny with Milo and subtract all the screaming. I am pretty sure at least three of Milo's legs jabbed me straight in the ribs. I swear he was having a night terror, but as Jenny pointed out, i am a common factor. 

I guess now that i live alone and don't have someone to notice if i scream in my sleep, i will have to wait until i am married to find out if i really cause others to have night terrors. I pity the fool that marries me only to wake up to my white knuckles digging into his rippling biceps...

see jane date

something strange happened in my 22nd year, but i still can't figure out what.

You see, i am not the dating type. It isn't that i don't like dating, i just am not good at being the girl that guys immediately think to ask out, it generally takes a few encounters before they realize that i could be a possibility (or realize i am not crazy and my comments are sarcastic not serious). 

Girls that get asked out a lot are good at flirting, generally shower every day, wear cute outfits, are never seen without makeup, say the right things etc. And why wouldn't they get asked out? They do everything right and therefore deserve it.

I however, not many of those. Flirting is like a foreign language to me, if i don't feel dirty i don't shower, i had to make a new year's resolution to wear makeup, and i more often than not say completely inappropriate things on accident. I do wear cute outfits though, (even the girl at the Nissan dealership stopped me yesterday to tell me how cute my outfit was). But i am not bitter toward these flirty girls, to each his own, we are all different and neither of us are pining to be like the other.

But recently i have somehow shifted to the other side. I, Bethany Jane Davis, had not one, not two, but three boys ask me out or ask for my phone number in January. 

I fee like i have become a Bakawali flower, it rarely blooms and it is does so, it is only at night and wilts before dawn. 

Perhaps i am reached my prime. I had better act fast before the dawn comes... or i could just figure out what has started intriguing the opposite sex. Yes, that latter idea sounds like a better plan. Find out why they are intrigued, perfect it, and then hook the entire male population. This is fool proof. This is perfect. 

Maybe i should write my own version of the childhood classics 'Fun with Dick and Jane.' 'See Jane Date' could become a quick bestseller. It is bound to be full of off color comments said on accident, awkward dating formalities and of course, graceful exits-my specialty.

or perhaps boys have started asking me out because i am no longer bitter (yes, this is me admitting that i was a bitter person). I recently found a note i wrote on Facebook almost exactly a year ago, it is more than slightly bitter towards the male race...

and yes, i now realize i am probably just as bad of a date as the boys that i mentioned. Heck i know there is at least one blog post floating around about me... haha

"anthem of a 22 year old girl 
(not to be confused with a certain 23 year old girl)
posted on March 1st, 2010

before i begin, let me warn you, this is a pessimistic note. do not think that i hate life or half of the population, a lot of you i still love, like this much <3 <3 <3, this note is mostly for about ten or so unnamed individuals and anyone who mimics them.

i have come to a pathetic realization over the past little while, chivalry is utterly and completely dead and for the most part my counter part in society, the male, is lacking.

my friends often remind me of my stellar dating trend and ask to hear stories of the latest awkward/entertaining date that i have suffered through. Okay, suffering isn't a completely honest word choice, they have not been that bad, but i do wonder what goes through a boys mind when he thinks, "i want to ask that bethany girl out, we have so much in common!" seriously? so much in common? But even worse than the less than magical, semi-annual dates, is the fact that boys can't even be trusted in daily interaction.

Though i doubt that many, if any, of the boys that need a lesson in dating or just how to be human, will read this, let me give a few pieces of priceless advice.

15 tips for the lacking male:

1. do not go on a date with a girl and never tell her your full name, 'Buck' is not attractive.
2. do not go on a blind date and play 'how well do you know your date' because the answer is not at all.
3. do not hold a girls hand and then the next day tell her you already have a girlfriend, whoops!
4. do not ask a girl to meet you by a fast food restaurant to start off your date (and yes by, not even at) on campus none the less.
5. do not say 'let's get dinner' at the end of the date and then let her pay for herself, it was your idea after all.
6. do not go on walks that are miles long when the girl is wearing high heels and then no shoes at all.
7. do not invite a girl to watch a movie, cuddle, and then pretend it never happened, that was all your doing.
8. do not plan a group date and tell your date all the details but say 'but don't tell the other girls, we want it to be a special surprise for them.'
9. do not ask the girl to drive herself to part of the date, especially a group date where everyone else picks up their dates.
10. do not take a girl out for long periods of time without feeding her.
11. do not kiss a girl and then tell her it was an accident and you didn't mean to.
12. after you reject a girl do not keep asking her to do favors for you.
13. do not sit in your chair while your date leaves the restaurant to feed the parking meter, maybe you should even offer to pay for half.
14. do not be little a girls major or job, it only makes her want to punch you.
15. do not throw a fully clothed girl into a pool (amazingly enough this has happend to me three times, yes three different boys, three different pools) either you really hate me or your way of flirting sucks.

i know that i am not the perfect date, but i do try. living in provo and going to byu is already strange enough when it comes to meeting the opposite sex, let's not try and make it more difficult.

so to all of you boys that have one of these pathetic rules named after you, shame on you, what would your mother say? i do not wish to be put on a pedestal but the doormat is a little much. and in case you didn't realize it when you blew me off or made a fool out of me, i am worth it and a hell of a lot more.

best of luck to us all, but i wish you even more luck, mister male, who is anxiously engaged in trying to woo the ladies."