It blows my mind that:
1. At every concert ever, there are those people in the front row. Someone got front row tickets because they have sweet connections and always get front row tickets. But someone is freaking out and having a top ten moment of their life, right now, over there. And if it’s one of those little shows where no one is particularly thrilled out of their face about who’s playing, I’m pretty sure the band absolutely is. Because woah, who cares if no one knows the words to their song… this is their stage.
(I think life is like this.)
2. Girls can have such skinny legs.
I always stare.
Really?
3. I am dating Chris Usher.
I know, kinda embarrassed to admit that this isn’t way standard by now. But really, he showed me to his Mom and wants me to stay a while. Still a big deal for me. (PS: Chris Usher and Stoph are the same boy. Don't freak out.)
4. Claire Dannals Sorensen is on my best friends list. Definitely.
Annnnd her roommates even like me now.
5. I was so pumped to see my Dad this summer.
Before he went back to Charleston,
my Dad came and found me to say goodbye,
where he then proceeded to say “I love you”
…first.
I totally believed him.
I had (almost) no unspoken words left.
6. There are boys out there probably hoping I don’t publish poems about what happened with us. (To those boys, I am a little bit sorry that it may happen.)
7. My bishop reads my blog.
Speaking of, here’s a piece of me from July 20th.
* * * * *
In case anyone hasn’t noticed, I am not a submissive woman.* * * * *
I will not cling to your side, seeking my identity by leaching off yours.
If you are looking for this girl:
1. Gross.
2. Keep walkin.
I’m on the beach house bed with Katie now, after a nap of unknown length—which ended at 10:30 PM. I woke up and thought: I needa call my Stoph.
Go upstairs in a tired haze.
Find service.
Leave slurring sleepy voicemail.
Receive 50 billion text messages.
Find service.
Leave slurring sleepy voicemail.
Receive 50 billion text messages.
3 of which from: boy-you-used-to-love.
Every once in a while he comes back.Like when he found this blog.
He reads this with you.
So does my Bishop.
Everyone: welcome.
Good thing I’m the same Lyndsi Shae all the time, otherwise I’d hafta spaz that you all congregate here to see (gasp!) the actual me. She’s the same me that’s always around. I have secrets too, but that doesn’t mean I’m afraid. 
I am this woman.
• to my professors and my mother.
• to that boy I used to love
• and my new roommate
• and the crabby DMV lady.
But how can you be one person with so many hair colors? they ask.
• to my professors and my mother.
• to that boy I used to love
• and my new roommate
• and the crabby DMV lady.
But how can you be one person with so many hair colors? they ask.
I am this woman and you are a part of my story, which in this case, is being told in mass volumes—daily. (On pages more frequent and more filling than this blog. And one day, on something printer-press big.) It’s a good thing I don’t have different versions of myself on file for each of you. But you can watch my hair change, if you want.
7 comments:
Is it weird that I'm online at this ungodly hour? Yes, but I couldn't sleep. Thanks for always being so real in your blog posts. When I first read your blog i thought you were mildly crazy. And even though that feeling does still exist somewhat, now I realize you're just being true to you. And I love it. Good luck with your new flame. Thanks for reminding me to write (indirectly).
I love you. I love that you AWWWWWESOME danced in your kitchen. I love that you wrote all this (and AMEN to the skinny legs thing). I LOVE YOUR MOMENT WITH YOUR DAD!!!!!!!!!! I like that the roommates like you now. And I hope you're never the submissive woman. I need a loud, independent cohort.
every so often i just break out into really loud yelps of "WHEN IS LYNDSI SHAE GONNA BE BACK??!!"
and then claire soothes me, quiets me, and we listen to your cds all the way to coeur d'alene and talk about how wonderful you are.
i love that you are the same amazing, wonderful woman all the time. she gives me such strength.
my nose is sniffly as it peels away, BUT i have this crazy heart-sprinting, mouth-grinning, stomach-acrobatting thing that's happening. and i KNOW: my LyndsiShae is comin on home.
I can share her with other people. This is fine. This is so fine. But as long as she is partly mine, I keep acrobatting, sprinting and grinning.
i love it. i love your writing, lyndsi shae. honestly--i love you and i love it. and i know that you would love this california evening if you were out here with me.
and i'm glad you told me chris usher and stoph are one and the same--because i was wondering how so much could've changed since we'd last talked.
I have been thinking about what I am attracted to in women recently, and- not to hit on you because I know you are dating Stoph (I can't remember who told me that, but I found out somehow)- one thing on my list is women who are independent and are capable of making their own decisions and backing them up. You are one of them.
As per your inquiry regarding P.O. boxes and deliverymen, I really don't know if you can get a delivery if you don't have an address. Whenever I don't know something, I just assume the best possible outcome.
Lyndsi Shae! Now that we've become blog buddies I'm excited to drop a line (no freestyle beat this time though, sorry). I get a kick out of reading your words, because they paint a picture of you-adding more detail to what I see of you on a daily basis, surprising I know. Anyways Stoph thinks you should play with him.
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