i choose kristen

An entire year without blogging. That really makes my heart sad. So many times I sat down, only to become so overwhelmed with anxiety and negativity that I decided no blog was better than one filled to the brim with everything I hate reading myself. Even now I'm struggling to finish this because I know it's not going to be all sunshine and roses and not necessarily what some people want to hear.

This week I made a decision, one that I have known I've needed to make, but have been avoiding for a while. I decided to stop doing something that used to make me happy, but now only brings heartache, pain, and guilt. Before you jump there Mr. Wonderful and I are great. Better than great. We are awesome. He is my rock and support and a large part of why I had the courage to finally make the decision I have been avoiding for so long. After I close my current project I think I'm done with theatre. Wow. Saying  it out loud and seeing it in print are two completely different things. Writing it makes it real, somehow.

Why, you may ask? The answer is long, and complex, but the simple answer is this:

I'm DONE.

Done giving people control over my schedule, feelings, and self-worth. Done feeling like I'm doing it because I "have to" or that I will be letting people down if I stop rather than doing it for me and the joy it once brought me. Done being criticized by complete strangers. Done spending precious time away from Husband only to feel that time has been wasted. Done being a punching bag to others merely for being willing to donate my time and talents. Done working so hard for something that at the end of the day is pretty thankless. Done letting this part of me define my entire being. Done being afraid to walk away because I will lose the recognition I have worked hard for and fearing I will have to start paying my dues all over again should I come back. Done having negative experience after negative experience, yet still coming back because "this time will be different". Done doing favors only to have it come back and bite me. Done with late nights that turn into early mornings and Saturday morning rehearsals. Done feeling like I always have a black cloud hanging over me, and most importantly I'm done taking out all these frustrations and insecurities on Mr. Wonderful. He has done nothing to deserve it, yet he's the one who gets to take it all because I know he'll still be there and still love me when all is said and done.

Ugh, drama is so aptly named. There has been a lot of it, that's for sure, but I am grateful for what it has brought me. Being on stage got me through one of the hardest times of my life and helped me figure out who I was again. It has blessed me with wonderful friends and opportunities I don't think I would have found otherwise. But, there is a time and a season for all things, and I think this season has come to an end. I'm ready to spend time cultivating other things I enjoy but didn't make time for because theatre was all-encompassing for so long. I am more than the stage, and I've been feeling this way for a while. It's time to act on these feelings. Theatre is a PART of me, not entirely what I am.

Is being done a forever thing? Good heavens I hope not, but for something to get me back on stage in the immediate future it would have to be something big. HUGE. Something I would regret forever if I didn't do or would just be plain dumb to pass up. There aren't many feelings like being on stage, but if I never step foot on one again I can look back over the last 17 years, smile, and be proud of my body of work. Right now I need to focus on me, my other long-neglected talents, and my future with Mr. Wonderful.

To quote my girl Olivia Pope (a little out of context, but still rings true to me), "I choose me. I am choosing Kristen." And you know what? That gets to be okay.

proof I was in fact a blonde once...

Braddy, Dizzy, Most Happy Girl, and the rest of you non-believers, here you go:

It's not very big (couldn't enlarge it without distorting it), or very flattering, but it's undeniably me. I am a natural blonde. Here's my Mads pic too-well part of it...can you find me? (Hint: I'm the blonde on the bridge.)

Man, I'm not photogenic. AT ALL.

to forgive divine?

I have a past. Everyone does. What do you do when a part of your long-gone-almost forgotten past comes-a-knocking?

In High School I had a "friend". Then I called him my "best friend". Looking back now I know he was anything but...wait, that’s not fair. He had moments when he was a good friend and even lived up to the title I had bestowed on him, but they were few and far between…but maybe I’m saying that now because my view is marred…anyway.

Since meeting as Sophomores he had a thing for me and he always wanted me to give him a chance romantically. Finally during our Senior year of High School I agreed to take our friendship to the next level. It ‘worked’ for about two weeks…until he cheated on me. Well, I say we were just in a fight that hadn't been resolved when he cheated, he says we were broken up. Tomato tomahto. After that we went back to being friends and there was a lot of back and forth-he wanted me when he couldn’t have me, wasn’t interested when I was, etc. After a while I decided to stop the insanity, take the romantic card off the table, and just be friends again because his home life wasn't that great and I knew he needed a good friend above all else. 

I’ll spare you the details, but a lot happened in the time following our break up. As my 'friend' he continued to break my heart. Sometimes he cared he had, but most of the time he didn’t. The best word I can use to describe him is cavalier. In the years following High School he was in and out of my life-him telling me he had changed and he was going to be a better friend, me foolishly believing him and subsequently having my heart broken. He was still the king of wanting me when he couldn’t have me and completely disinterested when I would make myself available in a romantic regard. I allowed him to manipulate me and I missed out on other great opportunities as a result. By the time I was twenty I was over it and ended the friendship for good. I made myself clear that I was done being used and I had no interest in being a part of his life again—ever. I thought it was a clean break. I thought I would be free to go on with my life as normal. I thought wrong.

The first time he tried to get back in touch with me was a couple years after I ended things. We shared a mutual friend, I’ll call her A — but I should say friend is a generous word. He was about as good a friend to A as he was to me—so he quickly became an acquaintance to her. Because she’s a good person she humored him and played messenger. A refused to let him know anything about me-contact info, where I was, and what I was doing. She was my gatekeeper and I wanted it that way.  This happened almost every two to three years like clock work-I would start to feel confident he wouldn't try again, only to find another half-hearted, cocky attempt waiting for me in my in-box, or a text from A saying he had called again looking to get in touch with me. I had so much latent anger and hurt from him that I was still trying to process, and I had NO DESIRE to have him in my life, yet I couldn't seem to shake him. To me he was poison, and above all else I was still angry at myself for letting him make a fool out of me time after time when all I ever wanted from him was the friendship I so freely and unconditionally gave to him. Then he stopped trying to reach me. I thought he had finally clued in and that I was free of him hassling me.

When Myspace became a big thing he searched me out and tried again to contact me. He caught me off guard so my filters failed me. I let him have it. Eight years of latent hurt, anger, resentment, all came raining down on him in that email. He got it all. I took pot shots. I didn’t care. I wanted him to KNOW how much he hurt me, and I wanted him to hurt like I had all those times. I held all the cards, and we both knew it, so there were no holds barred. I had nothing to lose, and he had everything to gain if I let him back in my life. Once again I told him no way and to leave me alone. And he did. Until Monday morning.

Although I keep my Facebook as locked down as possible, I still make my profile searchable (what's the point of being on social networking if you refuse to be social? Just because someone can request my friendship doesn't mean I'm obligated to accept it...) He found me. He apologized and asked me for forgiveness. He even asked for the opportunity to earn my friendship back and get to know me again. His other letters were always so cocky, so self-centered, so much about how hard it's been for him, how horrible he has felt all these years, how he needed me in his life. He never worried about what his actions had done to me. This one felt grown-up, not at all about him, and shockingly enough it feels sincere. It's been two days and I'm still not quite sure what I'm supposed to do. My decision would have been easy had his most recent email been half as phony as the other ones, but it wasn't. I think I've processed the anger and hurt and have started to genuinely forgive him, but I don't know if I need him in my life the way he clearly thinks he needs me since he keeps making the effort to contact me. He lost my trust a long time ago. I also know people can change, but I have been burned too many times by this person. I am not willing to give him a chance to hurt me again, and sometimes the past is best left in the past. Even as I'm writing this I realize how much it sounds like a battered wife, and that right there should be my answer. I think more than anything I'm afraid of being a bad person. I want to take the high road on all of this and be able to stand before the Lord and account with a clear conscience, but I am older, wiser, less trusting, and admittedly more cynical then I was all those years ago. I'm at a loss. I have no idea what to do. I know I don't trust him, but I know I need to forgive him. I'm trying, but because those scars are so deep they have taken a VERY long time to heal and I don't know if I have actually forgiven him or just become indifferent to the whole thing.  

IF I decide to give him a chance, it will be on my terms, not his. He will earn every millimeter he is given, and I will have zero tolerance for slip-ups. One thing and it's done. I have done just fine without having him in my life. He will have a very short leash with very limited access to me. He will not have my cell number, email, or know where I live. All his contact will be restricted to his very limited access to my profile on Facebook.  Even knowing all of this I'm still very hesitant. Mr Wonderful said to do what I'm comfortable with and he'll support me no matter what. Is my intuition telling me not to do this or are my past experiences with this person clouding my judgement here?

what if...

Although I have few regrets I sometimes wonder how different my life would be had I made different choices. These moments of insight are usually brought on by extreme exhaustion-because I'm a big fat baby when I'm mentally, emotionally, or physically beat.

I was reading a dear friend's post this morning, and after commenting I got to thinking about my own botched second chance story and asking myself the dreaded "what if". We need a little background first...

It was the beginning of summer circa 2000. I was working as an Assistant Manager over events at the Hollywood Connection and my matchmaker boss thought it would be a good idea to set me up with her son, Butthead (you can already tell how this story ends, can't you?). Wait-that's not fair--I shouldn't tarnish your impression of him just yet. Let's call him Beavis instead.

Beavis and I had a small flirtation going (we all worked together), so I agreed to the set up. Being 19 and stupid I fell for Beavis. HARD. He remained true to boy form and "played it cool"-us adults call it giving someone the run around and playing games. I had tried to convince myself that Beavis was "playing it cool" because he was leaving for his mission in August. Although we only went on the one date we began to spend more time together in the days leading up to his departure and he told his sister (my friend) that he was seriously considering marrying me when he got home. About three months after he left I started dating my best friend and 'Dear Johned' Beavis--well I would have if he hadn't gotten sick and had to come home early. After a well-intentioned attempt to date two men at once, Beavis turned into a Butthead and Superman Lover won out. In the intrest of full disclosure I have to say I did NOT handle this situation well--but in my defense I was 20 and had never had one man vying for my affections, let alone two. Beavis just made my decision easier by not ever asking me out but having no problem being a jealous jerk any time I did anything with Superman Lover--who DID ask me out.

Fast forward six years. Superman Lover and I had broken off our engagement about ten months earlier and I thought I might be ready to dip my toes into the shallow end of the dating pool. Since I was 25 (old maid by Utah LDS standards), I wasn't sure how to get back into that whole scene so I signed up for a few (LDS) online dating sites hoping to ease my way into things. Who should be one of the first people I was matched with? None other than Butthead-no joke. Being as time (and my recent heartbreak) had offered me a certain level of clarity on how I had handled the situation with Butthead I messaged him and apologized. About a month later he wrote back, texts and phone calls were shared, and he eventually asked me out again. Even after all that time he still tried to "play it cool" and act as if he was doing me a favor by spending time with me. Of course like an idiot I fell hard for Butthead. AGAIN-although I like to think it was because I was on the rebound and adjusting to being single after so long-not because I was a pathetic sap. Looking back I'm pretty sure he was just getting me back for choosing Superman Lover, but I was up to my eyeballs in smitten-ness to realize let alone accept he just wasn't that into me.

During this time my path had crossed  yet again with Mr. Wonderful. For those of you who don't know how we met here's the abridged version:
We met in High School-we had Seminary together. We had mutual crushes on each other but he never acted on it because he says he was told "He was too young for me"-which is all entirely possible given how shallow I was in HS, although I don't remember saying it. After HS our paths would cross at random times-most notably almost immediately after Superman Lover and I got engaged and then again around the time I was chasing Butthead like a fool. He tells me now that during the time I was following Butthead around his texts asking to "do something" was his attempt to ask me out, but in my book "hanging out" is NOT dating. As a result I would find excuses to not go and focus my time on Butthead instead, although there was one exception-I finally agreed and told Mr. Wonderful I would "hang out" with him. We met at the movies-saw some horribly forgettable Jason Statham movie, and had dinner afterwards. Looking back I remember feeling something for him then, but because I was still so ridiculously hung up on Butthead and nursing a wounded heart post-Superman Lover I shrugged it off as nothing.

Ok, back to the story: fast forward another seven months-I was up to my eyeballs in smitten-ness and playing occasional NCMO buddies with Butthead (Riss, I know, I KNOW. I'm ashamed to admit it-it is one of my few regrets.) trying to convince myself it was something it wasn't, when Mr. Wonderful texted me out of the blue to remind me to pre-order my copy of HP7. I started talking more and more to Mr. Wonderful and less and less to Butthead at this point. July 21 finally rolled around and I headed to Barnes and Noble with a couple friends to join in on the realease party festivites. Mr. Wonderful was there of course, and the rest is history. (If you want to know the particulars I'm happy to share.)

The whole point of this rambling post is this: how would my life have been different had I actually given Mr. Wonderful a chance? What could have happened had we actually dated in High School? What would have happened if I had blown Butthead off rather than Mr. Wonderful? Although I have NO REGRETS in my time with Superman Lover I can't help but wonder how things would be different today had I made different choices knowing what I know now.

Too bad life isn't like a Choose Your Own Adventure book and you can read ahead to the end and choose the path you like best. I know that would have saved me a lot of embarassing and painful memories...

my boys

I don't talk much about my family on here, but I should. My family is flawed, of course, but it is also pretty damn rad.
So rad in fact that I am getting a little choked up as I type this.

In honor of Father's Day on the 19th and LB2's birthday on the 20th I thought I would share a little bit about 'my boys' and why I'm so blessed to have them.

My Papa.

What can I say about my dad that every other girl doesn't already say about theirs? He has the BEST laugh. (Those who've heard it know what I'm talking about.) He taught me how to ride my bike, barbecue, and fish. He taught me how to make manicotti. I am his favorite oldest daughter. :) We share a love of The Muppets-Animal is our favorite, roller coasters-the higher and faster the better, and muscle cars. I went on the White Roller coaster for the first time with my dad. All I can remember is him saying "whooooaahhh whoooaaaaahhhh!" the whole time and laughing his head off. He loved it and because of him I love it too. He is the reason I was a tomboy until I was 10. He taught me that "roughing it" does not include a camper and running water. It's air mattresses and tents. He taught me to love, appreciate, and respect nature. He loves animals. Growing up he would always complain about how we had too many dogs-but he was the saddest of any of us when they would pass away. He has the greenest thumb of anyone I have ever known-he can make almost anything grow out of almost any soil. He builds the most beautiful ponds and has a knack for raising koi and frogs. Inside his rough and gruff exterior is the softest, most tender heart. He is fiercely loyal (gee, I wonder where I got it?), and always fights for the under dog. He loves John Wayne movies, but Legally Blonde is one of his all time favorites. I remember when I was about 20 I had rented 'Chocolat' and was watching it in the family room. When he came home he started to gripe about how he "didn't want to watch that chick flick crap". Yet by the time it was over he had joined me on the couch and looked at me and said, "well that wasn't half bad." He will come up to Salt Lake to watch me perform-although he HATES the city almost as much as he hates the theatre. My daddy is just too awesome for words.

Little Brother #1 (LB1). According to my mom LB1 and I were best friends when we were little. We did EVERYTHING together-including a game where I would get a spray bottle of water and say "open up Jonsie" and spray water into his mouth. My mom didn't understand why, but he loved that game. I am the only person alive who is allowed to call him "Jonsie" (the other is my Grammy V who passed away in 2002). I don't know why, but I love that it's something only I'm allowed to do. LB1 is smart-sometimes too smart for his own good. And he has the BEST comedic timing. He has always been able to make us all laugh so hard it hurts. He loves to fish and snowboard. Growing up he was a whiz at Mario Brothers and would make up songs and sing along to the music as he played. He would build blanket forts in the living room and call them his "inventions". Legos were his thing. He was always playing with them and coming up with things WAY cooler than my lame houses. He LOVED giving people bunny ears in photos-he was a ninja about it, too. He was a year behind me in school, but I was the one who always got "you're Jon Fox's sister?" He was the boy who had girls calling our house at 13, and I'm pretty sure it didn't end until he met My sister in law. He has such a knack for keeping a positive attitude, even when he's knee-deep in turd. In the last few years he's surprised me and shown me what a big softie he is. He married one of the sweetest, kindest, most lovely ladies around and is now an adorable daddy to two of the most adorable girls. He surprised us all in what an amazing father he is. He's the most adorable, loving, doting daddy around-although he was convinced he would rule his house with an iron fist. Those three girls definitely have him wrapped around their fingers! LB1 and I butted heads the most growing up, but as we get older I have come to love and appreciate him more than I could have ever imagined possible.

Little Brother #2. What can I say about My LB2? He loves to point out how much taller he is than me-earning me the nickname "little big sis". He tries so hard to be rough and tough but like all the other men in our family he's a big softie. He is the one who's most like my dad-right down to their identical feet. He's not a dad yet, but he is so good with kids, and they just LOVE him-maybe it's because he is a big kid too. He is a hard worker and so good with his hands. He can build almost anything. He LOVES animals and has his own menagerie complete with chickens! Growing up LB2 was the one who would bring home random animals like pigeons and crickets and snakes and lizards and crawfish and catfish and BEG my mom to let him keep them as pets. LB2 LOVED Kraft mac and cheese growing up. LOVED IT. So much that we would tease him about making his birthday cake out of it instead of letting him have it for his birthday dinner. LB2 wasn't quite the ladies' man LB1 was, but he did have a pretty good following in High School. (I can't say I blame these girls though. My brothers are cute!) LB2 is so protective of me and my sister-he's made it his responsibility to make sure we're always safe and happy. (Yes he's given Mr. Wonderful "the talk".) LB2 is the scariest good driver I've ever seen. He has the sweetest, kindest wife who is the girl version of him. They are perfect for each other. He is always thinking of me and will drive all the way up to SLC from St George to let me use his truck to move. Like the rest of us Foxes he's a stubborn git, but he can also admit when he's wrong.

There are so many more memories I could share, but they are for another day. Although I don't see them near enough, I love my boys so much, and I am so so lucky to have the best daddy and brothers around.

childhood trauma

This morning I saw a commercial for the Blu Ray release of "Bambi". The tag line for this promotion is

"Share the movie every childhood deserves."

Umm...all I remember is being TRAUMATIZED by this movie. Although some of the cutest scenes ever are in this movie-Bambi learning to speak, calling Flower a flower, Thumper, and the like, but

Bambi's mom dies.

BAMBI'S MOM DIES

BAMBI'S MOM DIES-not just dies-she's

KILLED.

BY A HUNTER.

AAAND...YOU DON'T EVEN SEE HIS FACE!!!

Way to go Walt for singlehandedly introducing me to death, devastation, and trauma in one fail swoop. All at the tender age of six.

Yes, kids DEFINITELY need this movie in their childhoods...

death of the pen pals

Growing up I had a fixation with correspondence. I LOVED writing letters-almost as much as I loved getting my own mail. I wrote letters to my Grandma Fox in St. George as well as my childhood friend Kristi when she and her family moved back to California after third grade. I dreamed of my mother letting me join one of those pen-pal clubs and having a pen pal from someplace exotic-like Ohio.

I had a massive collection of stationary-fancy, casual, cartoony, hand-made, you name it; I probably had it. Half the fun for me was choosing what paper I was going to write my letter on and what stickers or drawings I was going to use on the envelope. If you stop and think about it the whole process of letter writing is just so personal.

Looking back I'm realizing just how much letter writing helped to form who I am now. In Junior High I had a Young Women’s leader I simply adored. When she and her family moved to Arizona we kept in touch for a bit. She helped me through a few struggles teenage girls are prone to. My good friend Laura and I used it to keep in touch after Junior High although we were in the same stake and lived maybe two miles apart. We wrote each other a few times a week all through our Sophomore and into our Junior years and kept each other informed of the goings on at our respective High Schools. Nothing made my day the way opening my mailbox after school and seeing a letter addressed to “Twisten” from “Wa-wa” (long, yet funny story why we gave each other those names.) Sadly, the end of High School became busy with new friends and new interests-choir and drama for me; Journalism, yearbook, and band for her-and we let the habit die. After High School I kept up with a few missionaries and friends in the military; but again I allowed life to get in the way and stopped writing.

I came across Laura's blog today, and I got to thinking about old times and missing writing letters. In an age of texts, Facebook, blogs, and email, who REALLY writes letters anymore? As convenient as modern technology is, it has allowed us to become so impersonal. I miss the days of opening my mailbox and being greeted with real mail, not junk and bills. I also wish that I had ignored all the anti-clutter talk of the new millenium and kept those old letters. Writing my blog has helped but it's just not the same.

Maybe I need to pick up letter writing again.

What is something that you used to do but don’t anymore because of lack of time, technology, or just letting the habit die?