Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Daisy Girls

Today I read a blog post about sandpaper.

This is my response.

When I was a little girl, I had a poster on my wall with a vase holding roses and a single daisy. It was captioned “Be Your Own Kind of Beautiful.” As I grew up, I developed a love/hate relationship with that poster. I knew very early that I was a daisy. There is nothing wrong with daises. Daisies are pretty good flowers. But when all the guys want roses, it kind of (okay, more than kind of) makes you want to be a rose too.

Daisy girls are great friends. We can recite along with The Princess Bride and Disney movies. We would rather discuss Star Wars than go shoe shopping. We read, and have strong opinions about many topics. We wish on dandelions, stars, and 11:11. We love baking cookies and talking to kids. We laugh out loud and sing in the car.

But for whatever reason, we don’t get asked out, although we like to think of ourselves as not altogether repulsive. We wonder if the problem is with our looks or our personality, because we’ve berated ourselves about both. We certainly try to meet the first three requirements when it comes to being “cute, modest, intelligent, and ninety meters away.”

I was both comforted and depressed to learn about sandpaper guys. My first emotion was relief. “Oh, thank goodness. I have a chance of a good guy liking me, even if he has never tried to hold my hand.” It’s certainly nicer to think, “He hasn’t called me because he is scared to,” than “He hasn’t called me because he has forgotten that I exist.”

But after the second reading I had to ask, “Why? Why won’t you call her?” Gentlemen, we’re waiting. Some nights we stare at our phones mentally willing them to ring. And frankly, we’re not likely to turn up our nose at an invitation that comes via facebook message or a text.

Let me tell you something. When a girl is consistently the only one initiating contact, it does nothing for her self-esteem (which is already not the greatest). She gets to thinking very quickly that if you wanted to talk to her, you would talk to her, and she is making an annoyance of herself. Daisy girls are not exactly glamorous, you know. Awkward was probably the word you were looking for. We have strange quirks that make our roommates laugh and say, “Oh, that is so you.”

We are the girls without boyfriends. Most of our experience in the dating world has been facebook stalking while being stuck solidly in the friend zone. And we are lonely, although we don’t advertise the fact. As wonderful as chocolate and Wuthering Heights are, they do leave something to be desired. We have started coming up with names for the twelve cats that our Cat Lady future holds, and use humor as a coping mechanism.

Sandpaper guys, I salute you. Heaven knows that there are not enough genuinely good guys in this world. In your own words, you are “Too good to settle for the easy ones, too stupid to go for the right ones, and too cowardly to go for our dreams.” But if you won’t go for your dreams, who will?

“One day our time will come. One day…”

Believe me when I say that I understand how this feels. But if you won’t do anything about your singleness, I guess we’ll all have to be lonely forever.

You admit that girls probably like you, but that you are “too nice to try.” Try! You are over intimidating yourselves! Daisy girls don’t want to end up with the “smooth” guys, anyway. We don’t need the most creative date in the universe, but we do need you to set up that date. As much as I’d like to break the touch barrier by jumping into your arms and exclaiming, “I’m already in love with you, just don’t screw it up!,” that’s not how it works.

Look, guys, I know I'm not the most gorgeous girl you will ever meet, or the smartest, or the most talented. But you can rest assured that I will see you in a way that rose girls won’t. A rose girl may take your efforts for granted, but I promise I never will.

I am a daisy girl. And when you love a daisy girl, she gives you her whole heart.

Monday, April 16, 2012


I can't stop pushing Replay (seriously, I've probably listened to this thing fifty times in the last two days). I adore Beethoven, and I fell in love with "Secrets" almost two years ago (that can't be right. I'm not that old.) Combine the two.....perfect. Beautiful.

“Don’t only practice your art, but force your way into its Secrets, for that and knowledge can raise men to the divine.” -Ludwig van Beethoven

Speaking of beautiful, I just finished a book about Hedy Lamarr, popularly known as the most beautiful woman in the world, during the forties, at least. And I must admit that I would have written her off as a gorgeous know-nothing had I not learned more. She helped develop the technology that today makes usage of your cell phone and GPS possible, as well as military grade communications (though they never publicly acknowledged or thanked her) and the scanner at the grocery store, among other things. You go, girl.

"Any girl can be glamorous. All you have to do is stand still and look stupid." -Hedy Lamarr

I'm sorry I judged you, Hedy.

Thursday, April 5, 2012


Spring is here, and change is in the air.

I'm starting a new job as a banquet server at the Lion House; I was officially hired today. I am psyched for the whole not working on Sunday thing. I haven't been to my ward in a long time, and it's an awesome ward. I am also looking to pick up a second part-time job, and I have positive feelings about one of them. We'll see.

I am *so* close to being done with War and Peace. Only about two hundred pages left. Yes, a regular novel may *be* two hundred pages, but when you've got eleven hundred under your belt, two hundred doesn't seem like much. I kind of want to linger in it, though, because there's nothing like reading a really good book for the very first time and honestly not knowing what's going to happen. You have your desires and fears, but you don't know. And then there's a plot twist, and you're like, "Whaaa?" I wish I could remember the feelings I had reading the early Harry Potter books for the first time. That's been so long, I can't remember not knowing what happens in them.

General Conference was so good. Lots of emphasis on families and service.

I shared the awesomeness known as Cinder Edna with my roommates Amber and Jill tonight. They loved it. I honestly think every young woman should have a copy of this book. Fantastic. If I can find The Rumpelstiltskin Problem I'm going to lend that to Amber. Might have left it at home, though. That reminds me, I need to get a copy of Howell's Moving Castle. It's been a while since I've read it, and I LOVE that book.

So, yeah. I'm not the depressed emo that I sounded like in the last post. Not all the time, anyway, haha. Sometimes you have to let out the sadness, otherwise half my music library wouldn't have a purpose for existing.