The pre-existent Tracie, trying to scott pilgrim vs. the world fight her way out of this haggard mortal Tracie

An appetizer for your ears. And I know how overplayed it is, but honestly, such a wonderful song. I'll run it into the ground tissue of my ear drums before I quit listening to it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HoRkntoHkIE

With that as the soundtrack for this post, I don't know how you could possibly stop reading here. Just like when I watched Ghost of Girlfriends Past by myself, and didn't turn it off, despite countless Young Women lessons on being able to turn off crap, because that's all that horrible movie was. Hot crap with chunks.

Anyways, ya'll aren't paying me to review movies graphically. You are, however, paying me a handsome sum for the musings of a 20-going-on-21 year old in Logan, Utah.

It's the Friday before the Spring Semester of 2013 starts! I'm so excited for this term. It will be quite difficult, but I think that I will work as hard as I expect myself to. I've realized that negative beat downs on myself with low expectations aren't very motivating, so hopefully this route works! I've been trying a lot harder recently to be more positive. Happiness is a decision! I've been reading the General Conference talks from this last fall, and it's been giving me a sound beat on my bottom for my Negative Nancy person I've been for, oh, six months?

*Next musical snack :http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-lr6OUM2RMI

But anyways. Trying to break out of these leg braces have been difficult and awkward, and I'm sure it's not over, because despite how easy Forrest Gump made it look, ain't nobody sprinting right out of those things. But I've been fortunate in receiving helpful advice from everyone, particularly one of my brothers! I had all this available space in my mind and heart and planner, and I was filling it with less than awesome things. He told me the best way to get past everything is to spend this new time and space with improving myself. With doing things I hadn't done but have always wanted to. And here is where my post transitions into every other person's blog format! Self improvement, goals, wish lists, but no baby/dog/outfit pictures. That's where it varies. Sorry, guysss.

*some more music stuff. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MBlpfXLQLvU

I'm happy. Not always, but I'm working on it. I'm not focusing on the end product, but the process there. (See Pres Uchtdorf's talk, I don't know which one, basically any would suffice because he's just plain awesome.)

Sometimes I'll slip into self pity, but after a few minutes of being absorbed, that Tracie that I'm trying to become will laugh, pull me out of my covers, and push me outside. Because she's the coolest person ever, and I can't wait to meet her. She existed before I was born, and Heavenly Father had the faith in me that I could get to know her during my short lifetime. You guys will like her, I just know it. She's kind of intimidating, but totally down to earth, you'll love her. and just hilarious. lemme tell you... <fade off as I tell stories of pranks she pulled and jokes she told in the pre-existence, in the most un-sacrilegious way>

Garth Brooks - who knew?

"wurh oh. Racie wrote arother brog porst, prepare for parrtry fourl" - The Scoobster.

Actually, I'm pretty sure if you tried to sound that out, it sounded nothing like Scooby Doo. Sorry!


But for reals, guys. It's ok. You don't have to get ready to feel bad for me. Because I'm done feeling bad for myself! It's fun to be emo for a second but not very practical, sadly. Sadly, haha, get it?

Meanwhile, you're screaming, "But Tracie, the Post Subject says Garth Brooks? What's that all about?" Then I calmly reply, "Guys, guys, take a chill pill. I'm getting to it."
And ya'll say, "But we're investing time and energy in reading this, and are thus far reaping nothing but inaccurate Mystery Van references!"
Then I say, "Well that's a bit hurtful. If you could just be like patient or something I'll get to it."
And you'll say, "Trace, we can only wait so long."
And I'll say, "But what about my need to entertain my throng of readers? I need to put something good in here like dialogues or something!"
And you shake your head and say, "You're a corker, Tracie. A real corker."
And I say, "Uh not really cause my hair is NOT naturally red, as you can see from the inch of blonde, and also I'm nothing like Nicole Kidman. Also I've never seen Tom Cruise's junk."
Then we look at each other silently, it gets suuuuuuper awkward, and I continue typing. And you continue reading.

Someone recently recommended I listen to the song Unanswered Prayers by Garth Brooks. My only exposure to this fine man was I've Got Friends, which is grand, but I gave it the old college try and an ear. I learned a few things, that country is good but not my favorite. And that the message of the song was true.
For those confused, this is the song:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7umsq5n1THw

Crazy good message. I loved it. But remember how there's always a lag between your brain hearing something and your soul acting on it? This lag is getting annoyingly long. But it's slowly getting closer to ending, and I'm starting to understand. I'm back on my feet. Which feels really nice after getting knocked over by just some stupid old wind.

I still miss him. But that's ok and expected, because he was a real cool cat and we learned a lot from each other. But it's clearly time to move on. So I'm going to quit asking why and just plunge ahead. And it'll all work out. I'm stoked for that to happen. And I'll get another trial to spear through the heart and jig upon its mean stupid face. And on and on until further on in the electron transport chain, I've accumulated so many protons that I can finally make 34 more ATP to continue living the crap out of life. :)
Thanks for being my friends, friends. You guys are like the greatest.

"You're a witch", three year old Audrey, pronounced very differently.

 Your Bette Midler moment, brought to you by Viewers Like You. And PBS.

In the Howl this year, my dance group is performing a routine about witches possessing children, fighting priests and all that awesome halloween junk. Exciting, I know. I get to be a witch and basically just dance like I'm super pissed at everything. It is very satisfying to dance to Batman soundtracks and glare at everyone when it's all I want to do anyways. I probably would have carried a boom box around with it blaring and sulking at everyone anyways, had I not this opportunity. Isn't it odd how temporarily satisfying it is to just baste in your misery? But then three minutes later, you feel far too saturated in the nasty stuff that you want out, but then you're in that painted corner like in the Mormonad and you just want to start all over again? I guess I could search the scripture on the bottom of said Mormonad to find a solution, but it's far too thrilling to just splash paint all around me for the moment. And who doesn't want to be the kid wearing those socks.

Anyways. I'm quite satisfied to be the femme fatale in the Howl. Because I feel like it. I feel like I'm dancing around in a jig pooping in everyone's salads at lunchtime. I'm the heartbreaker. Of someone not deserving. But who deserves to get their heart broken. Besides Ted Bundy. But he'd probably just go on another killing spree in his broken state so maybe not. I know he'll be fine, and I know I'll be fine. But I can still feel like a jerk. Someone who didn't deserve the sweetness she was getting. I need to grow up, figure out my head. It's just a jumble, I don't know what I'm thinking, what I'm feeling, what I'm supposed to be feeling/thinking, what's going on or anything. I'm just listening to Bon Iver and the Staves over and over again to further baste me in my sadness. Isn't it so typical.

The hardest part of this is faith. How am I supposed to get someone like him again. How do I know this was the right thing to do. How am I supposed to face him after his last words are, "I'll leave you alone now." How am I supposed to know that it wasn't the love I'm supposed to base my life off of. Maybe it is and I just threw it away because I'm an idiot and a coward and terrified of anything new.

The only thing keeping me from begging him to hold my hand again is the fact that I didn't deserve it from him, and that he doesn't deserve it from me. I don't deserve his forgiveness or trust, and he doesn't deserve my doubt and anger. So we have to move on. There is no other option. And maybe some day I can grow up and wear big girl panties and deserve someone as amazing as Kevin.

Well, I have to go study rocks now. I know you love me and support me, but just let me be a whiny bum head today that poops in delicious salads, ok?
And I really do know it'll all be ok in the end, so don't leave this post thinking I'm going to go bash my head in with the rocks I'm going to go study. Because I promise I won't. I love Donkey Kong and food and my family and friends too much for that. Because really, I'm quite the fortunate soul and have much to be happy for. :)

Habbbbbfff.

Habf: spoken with great exasperation, puffing up your cheeks to make a loud sound and stopping it by making a Mulan-full-of-breakfast face.

Meaning: Well, that sucked. Just kidding. That was a funny joke, huh.
Context: Habbbbbfffff on previous post.

Don't get me wrong, I know it was a genuine post. Extremely, almost too much so, honest. Our relationship was truly over. One week later, as we were trying to be friends again (because really, we are best friends, we couldn't lose our friendship on top of our benefits in the same day), I was starting to get bitter. Thinking about how mad I was that it could have worked. So I started shutting him off, and he decided we needed to have a massive talk in a Wendy's parking lot over frosties. Three hours later, and many much tears, we had talked every single detail of our rise and fall (thanks Faith and Tim) into the ground. So I told him that I'd give him another chance in a year or two, but that separation was best in the meantime.
Now that my bitterness was gone, we returned to friendship. I invited him to come on a hike/campout with my wonderful roommates and their friends, and we had an amazing time. It was so fun. But at the same time, it sucked. Which is why exes shouldn't be friends one week later. But it did. And on the ride home, we accidentally held hands.
I had so many thoughts. I was furious, confused, super wary, and just lonely. And I knew he was lonely. And I couldn't handle that. So we had another talk. But this time, it was the opposite. Where I had been the one sprinting with confetti streaming out of the sides of my mouth to the altar and dragging him behind me, he was the one sprinting. I couldn't believe that one week had changed his attitude. But he was so happy, excited, and just overcome. I never felt more worshiped in my life haha. I was still super scared though. I had given so much and left empty handed, I didn't want to do it again. So slow and steady, we're on again.
It has been amazing. I don't think I've ever been this happy. Kevin is one of the greatest men I have ever met, among men like my Dad and Bishop Elwood. So selfless, and he works so hard. We are truly best friends. For his birthday, we went on a six hour hike. And I loved that not one moment was silent. Eight months later, we still have so much to talk about. Religion, politics, friends, love, life, we talk about it all. And it's so fun. He thinks I'm hilarious. I think he's adorable. And just like that, we are back in a relationship. It's been about two months, and we've been so happy. Now I just need to learn how to balance everything else. School, dance, friends.
I really just need to learn how to retain all of my friendships now. Turns out, no matter how much you love people, there's still only 24 hours in a day, and you have to sacrifice to hang on to everything that you have to. So that's the great challenge of this month!
So that's all, friends. Hopefully that clears things up and keeps you from worrying about my broken relationships. Because I know you were.

I would say poop in the punch, but the equilibrium seems quite heavier on the poop side, sorry, mates.

I am bored.
For probably, the first time this summer, I have absolutely nothing to do.


With boredom comes a whole lot of brewing in my big ole dome. My mind is quite an impressive tossed salad of thoughts and feelings. There is so much, the pressure seems tangible. I've probably gained a bit of volume. (ha ha ha ha, sciencey fat joke) But really. One can only think, sort, frustrate, and avoid so many things before they finally confront them publicly with their blog. But really, this is not a post for someone bored. It's not even funny. It's just stupid venting about the woes in my life, so really, it's quite negative. So I actually strongly advise you to not read this.
(And not in the same way Lemony Snicket would, because you always knew he really meant to keep reading despite his many threats)


Well, World. I'm angry, hurt, confused, upset, wistful, relieved, and three thousand other annoying things. I am almost never mad. Except for when the garbage leaks at Kneaders and trash juice gets all over my legs and shoes. But besides that, I'm quite the satisfied gal. But right now, I'm really upset about pretty much one thing. Get ready for the unique trial of the century, it's.... DATING.


Once upon a time, I was single. I loved life, loved friends, loved flirting, loved school, loved church, loved everything. I was extremely happy. I was fine with being the crazy, loud, funny girl in the group who was always the 11th wheel. Sure I would lust after relationships, but they were never tangible for me. I was actually content to be single. Then some big bum head had to go and ruin it. He had to grab the rug right from under my feet, smother me with chloroform, and addict me. (This is all figurative, mind you, please don't alert the authorities) I quickly became that SUPER annoying person. I hate those people. I always have. They're annoying, relationship people. But then he became my best friend and I was attracted to him in a way I never have been to anyone else in my life. I cared so much about his wellbeing and happiness.


Quick insert. For those of you who don't know me and are still reading because you're clearly as bored as I am, I am a very yellow person. A yellow person is defined as being very sociable and having a lot of friends. This all sounds lovely and excellent, but the catch is that we have so many, that we don't have any best friends. We have so many that we don't truly value most of them. We figure people are for fun and if one person doesn't work out, there are billions of others to be had. This man managed to take my yellow sunglasses off when I was with him, and I hate it. I hate that I became dependent. I hate that I trusted someone so much like that. I hate that I let myself fall so terribly hard, so terribly fast. It was necessary, but terribly annoying for the student being taught. I hate that now that he's gone, it hurts. I'm not used to missing people, as horrible as that statement is. Surprise, I'm truly a horrible friend. Now grab your torch and pitchforks.


Anyways. Back to this horrible story. I was very addicted to this man. Everything about him. His hesitancy, quietness, his passion that would only come out in soccer, his curiosity, his love for his family, and just him. He understood me more than anyone has, I'd say about 93%, which is quite high for this sarcastic, yellow girl. He was the best friend I'd ever had, and I loved the feeling of being with him, of being his girlfriend.


There was always this annoying piece of lint in the back of my mind during all this bliss, though. I never knew if it was right or not. I didn't like a couple things about our relationship. But I figured that that is how all realistic relationships are. Then a few of those things got bigger and closer and started affecting the way I felt. I tried so insanely hard. I really, really did. And when I would finally realize it was time for us to part, grow separately, and then see what would happen, I would avoid it. Sometimes I'd act on it, but it never lasted. I was far too selfish a person to not be with him. I didn't care that it wasn't healthy for him or me. I just wanted someone to hold my hand and care about me. So I never did it. Until now. Six months after it started, he's gone. And I miss him more than I can say. But I can't act on it, because I know now, not only intellectually, but I feel that it wasn't right. I can now see the things I chose to overlook that made me doubt him. So even though I would rather do nothing right now than go to his house and watch another three seasons of How I Met Your Mother and cuddle, I can't. And it sucks.


I do understand how necessary it is. And how in about two weeks, my yellow side will take over and I'll be distracted once again by the thousands of people in Logan. But right now, there's a quiet man about a mile away that I just want to be with.
I hope he's not suffering as much as I am. And I hope even more so that he can get over it as quickly as I probably will. I just want him to be happy and to realize how great of a person he is. I couldn't make him see it, and so now I have to let him find it himself.


The sad part of the story is that I feel like it didn't have to end this way. I loved him. But I couldn't carry the weight of us by myself. If he was to come to the table with 50%, I would be 5,000% game for him. But I don't think he'll come back to my table. And that's ok, even though it makes me sad right now. We'll both find other people that will make us happy, or maybe we'll even meet again in a year or two and we can see if he still gets my jokes. But until then, it's time for me to be single, once more. And to learn how to love it again.

May the Fourth be with you...

Musical Appetizer: a cover on Outkast's Hey Ya! by Obadiah Parker. Love it!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ejeEBlDESc

Yesterday, May 4th, 2012, sucked.

Surprising, right? Because normally my opening song illustrates the mood of the post. And this song is quite positive. And that sentence above this paragraph is extremely negative. But please, just bear with me, you fantastic fishes, you.

So yesterday sucked <cringe emoticon>. It started off quite excellently, right at midnight, with the Avengers. A pretty great movie. Then I slept for three hours before I went to work. Which was also excellent, the sleep and work. Someone almost passed out on an elliptical and I just kept bouncing on the mini tramp. Thrilling morning. Then. I cleaned a bathroom for two hours. That sucked. Sucked bum. Literally. Not literally. Comet cleaner sucked the bum juice off my toilet, that's what was literal. Gross, I know.
THEN!
I had to finish packing. Which was extremely chaotic and I ended up using boxes from the state liquor store. Which didn't suck. I enjoy the amount of Jack Daniel boxes stored in my friend's garage until I can move into my next home Monday.
BUT!
I had to finish all of this by a certain time so I could take Kevin to the airport in time to catch his flight to DC, then Paris, then JORDAN, where he will be for the next five weeks.
THAT! part sucked. I was extremely stressed and exasperated. My hair was in a top Polynesian style bun and everything, and I'm not dancing, which is generally the only time those are acceptable as a redheaded caucasian,
THAT!'s how stressed I was!

Musical Entree: You are a Radar Detector, by Darwin Deez. Magnificent music video on top of it's excellent sound. Thank you, Talia Celeste Pratte!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8pbdLqTh_x4

So anyways. It was a rough go. But. The moment I had a banana pudding shake from Chick Fil A in my tummy, I remembered how not sucky life was. Despite being in a vacuum. (Get it? We're in space. AKA a vacuum. Vacuums suck. So life sucks. It's a joke. Lolz!) And I realized how great Jordan will be. And Kevin is going to have the most exquisite time in his whole life, and I could not be more stoked for him or jealous! And it will be excellent for me, because I can work a ton and maybe date a couple other guys, if they're proactive. Because I don't want to try ha. Even though I should try to date other guys, I'm actually pretty content with my current one, even though he's going to be in the Middle East, on the other side of the world. But, in my girlfriend contract, we decided, if presented with the opportunity, I should date around. Because my name is Tracie and I haven't really dated anyone ha. It's really too bad I wasn't like everyone else and started pouncing the opposite gender at 16. Or earlier. Ha. And yet I don't think I missed too much, pubescent glory is just not as great as the Disney Channel portrays it. I know, I was furious when I found out, too. Raven lied to us all.
But yes. At the end of the day, I am listening to happy music. Because I am happy. Because I can be patient. and also because I found out I'm getting a new niece!!!! And I got a new job at Kneader's on top of it all. So how could I not be happier than a clam?! Or every clam in the ocean put together?!

Musical Dessert: Walking on a Dream, Empire of the Sun. Your visual dessert, as well, if you enjoy Asian culture, biking, and extremes in both makeup and dancing...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eimgRedLkkU&ob=av2n

Anyways. That's all that happened yesterday. And we watched 8 Mile. Eminem is cool.
And I'm just really happy.
Babies, new jobs, banana pudding shakes, airport kisses and music = best Star Wars day ever.

New Freckles.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XN3ogbTuDSE&feature=related

Since music affects moods so much, I'm going to start posting what I'm listening to while I'm writing. I love this composer and movie. I love the feeling I get while listening to it. He's the same composer who did Finding Nemo, Meet Joe Black, and Shawshank Redemption, some of my favorite movie scores. You can hear similarities a ton, especially with Finding Nemo, I think!

Here I am, a test in 17 minutes, blogging again. When I feel like I've done everything I could, I don't know what to do with my remaining few minutes, and I just feel like writing. I really am sorry that my blog has been so contemplative lately, I've just really missed writing and it feels so good to get it out somewhere. And let's be honest, it's not like I'm doing a million adventures anyways, so I wouldn't be posting otherwise ha.

So, thank you for tolerating my daily ponderings, no matter how brief, shallow, deep, or entertaining they are. Because I forget how much I love to write, but now I remember! I hope everyone is having a fabulous Friday! Yippee for weekends!

Also, for all you fashionistas out there (Laura), I just thought I'd let you know today's outfit:
Thoroughly worn running shoes
running shorts
free Wells Fargo tee shirt
Bieber jacket
French braid
= campus couture.
How on this good green earth do I have a boyfriend?
:)