spring cleaning of my soul.

(i'm going to use the word blog like, fifteen times in the next paragraph. so buckle up.)

yesterday around three in the p.m. i was feeling full. full of...thoughts, trail mix, and sonic water (i'm kicking my diet coke habit and am using jedi mind tricks where i still go to sonic...but get water! i know ludacris, backstroke, backstroke, stroke of a genius!). i wanted to get my brain juice out somewhere and turned to my super-top secret blog (that has two passwords!) to let it a l l out.

...and then i accidentally posted it to my old blog? (p.s. it's the junior high of my blogging career -- i truly peaked over there! i used to be so funny!)

oops. i got a few text messages from my mother and friends who were wondering if that was on purpose? or was that for my top-secret blog? is brooke actually experiencing an emotion apart from happy, hangry, slightly annoyed, or holycrapihavetopee!

it was sort of embarrassing. mostly because i ended the blog post with 'loves.' sweet mother of pete, why did i end it with 'loves'...?!

my mother, on the other hand, found it cool. she thought i did it on purpose and was like rock on, girl! way to show emotion! so raw! so cool! ...or some variation of that. so what the heck! why don't i share? though i don't plan on ending any sentiment ever again with 'loves.'

...of course this begins with a selfie. only fitting. 
it's nearly spring time which means i start to get this urge to clean. it's like some weird gravitational pull on my mind that makes me notice the clutter on the coffee table and the dust on the ceiling fan and holy shoot, do i really need all these dish towels?

jeff has been bugging me to clean out my closet. oh, my closet. if you've been to our apartment, you have probably heard about or seen my closet. when jeff and i were searching for apartments, we thought we found gold with our apartment. a walk-in closet! whiy we could store everything in there! 

needless to say, the closet is stuffed positively full with all of my junk and jeff's clothes reside in a dresser by the bed. oops.

that closet is positively and absoultely ignored. jeff refuses to go into it in fear that everything will collapse on him and he will become some version of flat stanley. i tend to just throw my clothes in it and usually grab whatever is closest. it's a mess.

i feel the same way about some things in my life (a metaphor!). i feel like i have digressed spiritually and i feel it in my bones! this winter i was served with a big ol' dose of busy. i feel like i started putted things and stuff and silly obligations in front of what matters most. my scripture study slowly turned into a quick browse through on my phone which slowly turned into days and weeks without reading. i know that my normally strong and unwavering testimony is suffering from it, too.  last week we gave a lesson in sunday school and i was feeling so crummy about things i gave no solid input -- i was kind of like the kelly ripa of the regis and kelly show (...good looking and funny, of course!).

so now it's time to clean. clean out my closet, clean up my soul + spirit, and clean up all this anxiety i am feeling over the marathon (holy, 26.2 miles in two months! will anyone judge me if i switch to a half? anyone?).

a very muttered and less-enthusiastic, loves.

...and that, my friends, was some variation my top secret blog post. showing and sharing actual emotion was relatively painless...relatively. 

two thousand thirteen.

happy two thousand thirteen from jeff and i. jeff with the scarf and face that can resist flinching for any ten-second self timer....err, i mean, large group of friends that took this picture at one of the loud and boisterous new years parties we attended? 

now, let's talk about two thousand thirteen. i'm a closeted goal-oriented person. i usually aim low so that i won't fail...i know, i know, this may point to some serious internal issues but, hey! who wants to paint my nails? but this year, i'm aiming high! what's that quote? shoot for the stars and if you fail you'll land on the clouds? something like that? how terrifying that i know that quote...and the thought of falling through space and hopefully, hopefully landing on giant cotton balls, for that matter.

and, without further adieu, my goals(!):

+ run, baby run! : i go through phases of loving running and hating running and right now, i love it. i've signed up for...get ready... two marathons this year to run with my brothers and the thought of it makes me sort of want to crap my jeggings but shoot, i'm excited. (will the man-card forever be in my pocket? step up your game, jeff stapleton! ;)

+ shoot my brains out: eww. that sounded horribly violent. i don't actually want to shoot my brains out, but i just want to shoot so much that my brain will feel like crawling out my mouth and plopping itself on the couch next to me. i love taking pictures of people and making them feel like 1,00,000 bucks so i might as well get better at it, right? (umm, please look at this picture of my sister mckenzie -- she's a beauty)

+ violently wave my hand around in sunday school: you guys, i secretly have always wanted to be that kid who waves his or her hands around like they are directing air traffic. actually i've always wanted to secretly knock that kid upside the head with my scripture case but, you know. two thousand thirteen is a fresh start. my point is that i want to know the answers and be so confident in what i am about to say that i am squirmish to share. there is so much about the gospel that i don't know and want to learn and mark my word, i am going to learn it and wave my hand violently! (...or just shoot death glares at the person who does...)

+ be more...accessible: i stink at keeping in contact with people. ask any of my friends. i won't return texts for days or will forget to call them back. in other words, i royally stink. with all my friends leaving on missions and my family a whole state away, i need to be better at keeping updated on the people i love. (wait, snapchats count, right?!)

+ deeply inhale and be grateful: i remember the first day of my freshman year at college, i walked by this girl who stopped in the middle of campus, dropped her arms to her side, closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. i laughed then but i admire it now. (well, kind of -- she was holding up all sorts of traffic and made me walk straight into a man because i was staring at her) she was fully present and fully grateful ...or maybe she was just really strange? let's go with grateful. this year, i want to be more present and grateful for everything in my life; i want to jump on opportunities and be brave. and i also really want to walk into byu campus and hold up traffic with a giant inhale.

+ love the guts out of my jeffrey.

+ (i'm stealing this one from my sweet mama) make everything around me more beautiful: i was talking to my mom today and she told me that her new years resolution was to make everything around her more beautiful and i loved that. i want to fix anything that's bugging me and make it beautiful (or find the beauty in it); be it our ugly coffee table or my messy hair that's always, always, always in a top knot.

...now please remember to forget these come march when i'm curled up in a ball watching fifteen episodes of friends and lacking any sort of motivation?

in which i admit that i love myself...

i have a confession to make. you ready to roll your eyes and call me a narcissist? okay. my confession: i love myself. 

told you you would roll your eyes! but let me start with a disclaimer: there are definite parts of myself i don't love; i don't love particular parts of my body or how i get grouchy after eating too much refined sugar (baking is basically banned over here; snacking on the dough is inevitable...and so is a meltdown) or my smile in pictures (like...what are you doing brooke?! and why is a cup always my prop of choice?!) or how everything i do is LOUD (wait, actually i don't mind that...it's kind of endearing?). 

but for the most part, i'm a big fan of myself. is this such a crime?!

(this picture is evidence that 1. i have a picture-face that's like...what? and 2. i reward myself. the target run was a reward for staying almost-the-whole-time at work...)

yesterday as i was walking out of the testing center, a girl was on the phone with her mom in utter hysterics about her score on her test. she was going on and on about how her bad score (a 73 percent!) was unacceptable and how she was never going to get in her major or have a career or get hit on while crying (just kidding, she didn't say that...but she probably won't. she wasn't the most attractive crier -- i feel you, sister!). meanwhile, i was doing a mini-celebration over FINISHING my statistics test and answering most all of the questions! i sat still for over an hour! double fist-pump!

as i walked home, i thought about the differences between me and that girl. when i got home, i admitted to jeff that i realized my unwavering love for myself has really gotten in the way of my academic success. actually, it has gotten in the way of success in general.

rarely, rarely do i push myself. 99.9% of the time i am perfectly content. and i rarely get mad or down on myself...i mean, i do. but mostly about really silly stuff like gaining weight or legitimately considering buying a pair of jeans with bedazzled pockets. and then i get over it and move on. are you feeling me? 

and now, proof:

• i rewarded myself for going to class everyday last week by skipping two classes this week? 
• because i have done tony horton's (I LOVE HIM!)(mini-brag...) p90x program for three weeks straight, i took a whole week off. and digressed. 
• the 8-week challenge has gone down the tube because 'i like myself too much.' 
• ...however, i did reward myself with frozen yogurt for actually sticking to it for two weeks.
• every time i sleep in past my alarm, i justify it to jeff with "my body just really needed it."
• ...i've cried over a test score maybe once? and that was probably because i got a paper-cut while turning it in.
• if it pertains to math, science, arm workouts, crafting, or sprinting...i'm happy with 'just finishing.'
• most all of the time i don't look at my test scores in fear of getting mad at myself for not getting mad at myself. did i make sense?
• i always set new years resolutions that i know i can complete so that i'll feel good about myself. 'don't kill anyone' and 'no tattoos' were apart of last years.
• ...i do the same thing with 'to-do' lists. i just write a bunch of stuff down that i've already done! the thrill of crossing stuff off instantly! 

oh heavens. i know, i know-- if i truly loved myself i would push myself, tony horton. i get it. but it's like...oops?

maybe i'll turn a new leaf this week and set some goals that really push myself. but probably not. 

in the mean time i'll just eat one big sandwich of mediocrity while happily staring at myself in the mirror.

tonight.

…i cracked.

remember how i talked about eating healthier? pfffffft (the flavor of the month was mint oreo! MINT OREO, people!).

i justified my craving by explaining that i had a sore throat and had walked up a lot of stairs that day and it was that time of the month and…

MINT OREO (it’s only the flavor of the month for FOUR more days, i had to act quickly!)

resolutions, or something.

During winter break, I religiously took baths.

(I’m sure this arouses(wrong word to use when speaking of baths?) thoughts of pure relaxation and luxury. Of baths salts with names like ‘Lavender Grove’ and ‘Sensual Amber.’ Or, on the completely opposite side of the spectrum, of that horrible scene from The Shining(if you don’t know what I am talking about, click on the aforementioned: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CSSISh4cUNo)

But that is besides the point.

The point: As I was taking my less-than luxurious bath and was almost-enjoying myself amongst the defective bubbles(darn you, Ross bubble bath), I looked down.

Is this getting too graphic?

But anyways, I looked down. Only to find that all of the mozzarella sticks, bean dip, and over-salted fries I called my diet over the past couple years had caught up with me and was beginning to form a pooch that was then emerging from the water.

I shrank into the water for a mere second then began to assess the rest of my body only to discover that I was now squishy. That’s right, squishy.

But that is besides the point.

The point: After sulking until my fingers and toes had become raisin’d, I had an epiphany(or something).

Right there amongst the defective bubbles I decided that, in 2011, I was not going to gauge my happiness on external factors.

I was going to be happy, despite my ever-growing pooch and ever-dropping grades. I was going to be happy, despite my frizz-happy hair and awkward dance moves. I was finally going to give myself the break I deserve– after all, being squishy is endearing, right?

Which brings me to my resolutions:

1. Be happy (despite the previously mentioned) and don’t depend on others to make that happen.

2. …maybe lose some squishiness. It’s really not that endearing when you’re trying to wear white pants and a silk blouse.

3. Survive. And maybe work on my domestic skills along the way. And maybe my dance moves too. Oh, and stop compulsively lying on job interviews.

Oh, and maybe improve my music taste.

But probably not.

i'm weak

I am so, incredibly weak when it comes to self-control. Well, rephrase: I am so, incredibly, embarrassingly weak when it comes to self-control WITH food. And television series. And beardy men. And Marshall Mathers. But back to food: More than a billion times I tell myself that I am going to ‘begin a-new’ and begin to eat healthy. I brainstorm all the steps that are going to help me become ‘healthy’ including: refusing the bread basket, no more Nutella…well at least less of it, water instead of Diet Pepsi, and eat less bacon. And I begin! I go for two, three, four hours of giving the hand(or finger) to all bread baskets that come my way, NOT cracking open at D.Pepsi at 7 in the A.M., and bettering my bread:Nutella ratio. But it’s at those very moments, that I am TRYING to be healthy, that my mother will make something ridiculous. Like Butterfinger cookies, homemade donuts, or bacon-wrapped Butterfinger flavored homemade donuts. Served by a beardy man. It’s as if the world doesn’t WANT me to eat healthy. Today, I told myself that I was turning a new leaf and leaving behind my plate-licking ways. As I reached for a yogurt(sick!) in the fridge, I saw that there was a huge, welcoming bowl of cookie dough with just enough chocolate chips. Needless to say: cookie dough for breakfast. And some Hershey kisses. And a banana dipped in Nutella. And a Diet Pepsi.