Monday, May 30, 2011

Mikelle

Oh, the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person, having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all out, just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and with a breath of kindness blow the rest away.
-Dinah Craik

Change has never been terribly easy for me. I tend to panic and dig my finger into whatever I had before, even if it was only just okay. In this case, I think I'm doing admirably at adjusting to the concept of marriage and then living with a guy and then babies and then not Utah. The night I got engaged, I went over to Mikelle's house. She is my little sister and best friend. Having her here at BYU has been a dream come true, something that we planned and schemed about for about four years before it actually happened.

When I told Mikelle that I was engaged, she cried. Not entirely a happy cry, and I understood. Up until now, she'd always just been a step or two behind me, and I'm always turning around to cheer her on - "Come on, just a little farther, and then we can be in high school together!" "Next year, we can take classes together at BYU!" I've always wanted her with me, to laugh with me about the weird guys we meet, to tell me to stop gossiping, to just understand me. In college, you are recreated. Seeing people from home can bring so much comfort as you reminisce about your hometown and school days. Seeing someone you can't remember life without? That grounds you and reconnects you to your true self.

So now I'm getting married and to say that I will miss Mikelle is just insufficient. I don't know what life holds for the near or distant future. I invited her on our honeymoon, but she's being all weird about it. Her loss, I say. I guess now I'll have to reach back and yell "Come on, Mikelle. Just find the right guy and we can start this chapter of our life together." My life is complete when she's in it.







Kelly Clarkson on the Y, Remember, Kell?


Thursday, May 12, 2011

One Of Those Awful Wedding Posts

Probably the only thing I have been doing consistently during the last three weeks, besides missing Luke, is planning. Before I left Provo, our wonderful friends, Lisa and Tyler Lewis, created a beautiful design for our wedding invitation. I printed tons of those, and then my mom printed tons of pictures and now we have a complete product.

Isn't that just great? I think we're pretty classy.

Yesterday, I went over to the house of my dearly beloved sewing teacher from years ago and watched her make a veil for me. The idea was that she would help me make it, but I forgot that she is the nicest lady in the world.

She added those beautiful flowers and pearls and shiny things, and even wearing it in my unwashed hair with jean on, I felt surprisingly princess-esque.

That picture is so tiny because I took it on my cell phone, turned around backwards in the mirror. It was was reminiscent of my Myspace days, when angles were everything.

While in Georgia, Andy and I worked on wedding decor nearly every day. I will probably post picture of the crepe paper flowers and branches and birds when I actually put it together, but it will look something like this. In the meantime, here are the letters we made for the favor table:


I had never used a Cricut before, and it was a singular experience. I imagine the birds on either side of the letters, maybe holding up some kind ribbon, I really don't know. I think I just keep imagining those birds on Cinderella that are always in pairs and carrying things around.

Andy made this amazing little plaque/board/sign thing for me to display at the wedding, and then take home and put in the house that I will share with a man (that concept is still pretty weird for me).

I feel like I cannot long delay the day when decor that is not of my choosing will adorn the walls of my house, gifts from those who don't know me well or products of Relief Society activities.

mmmm....thanks. also, you really can find anything on Google.

But until then, I can look at my cute little board and know that it is exactly what I want. I have so many great people helping me out with all those oddly fun girly stuff. Life's pretty great.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Home

Let me tell you how wonderful it is being in Washington. I feel like it adds days to my life. It is probably going to be the last time I visit home as Marlee Nelson, and I know that marriage and babies changes relationships with siblings. Mostly for the better, but after spending a few days here, I feel grateful for this short time I get to have with my brothers and sister as just Marlee.



The oldest sibling at home is Seth. He is brilliant, athletic, outgoing, hilarious - altogether much more ready for adulthood than I was (am). When I flew in on Saturday afternoon, he had just driven his brothers home from a camping trip. He is taking one of the cutest girls in our ward to Prom. In a ward where parents tell their sons to go on cheap dates so as to "not spend money on someone else's wife," Seth is planning a wonderful evening, and is genuinely excited to make this lucky girl feel special. I love his laugh, and how he sees humor in everything. He's such a good friend.



Next comes Brian. He has totally surprised me this trip. He is so helpful and generous, not at all the whining, teasing brother I feel like I had just a few months ago. On Sunday, determined to make a beautiful centerpiece for the dinner table, we searched for budding branches and then clippers to remove them. He's quieter now, reminding me more of Eric, and is often deep in thought. He's also super tall, reminding me of some non-Nelson tall person. He's so cute and interesting. I can't wait to get to know this new Brian better.



Oh, Marielle. The youngest girl, surrounded by brothers. She is so unique. I don't think she's ever picked up a Barbie in her whole life, but she can name all the feral cats that roam our 20 acres. As soon as I walked in the door, she whipped out a guitar and showed me how she had learned to play one of my favorite songs. She keeps a low profile, but she's stubborn as all get out. When I tried to put make-up on her, she said very matter-of-factly "I think I'm pretty enough the way I am." I love her.



The youngest and smallest is Peter. This brown-eyed, brown-haired boy adds such a spark of life to our family. He loves telling us about his life - his teacher, his thoughts, his convoluted dreams, his friends. On Sunday afternoon, he begged and begged me to go out to the hammock with him and I finally consented. He said, "Okay, now we're going to tell each other the scariest stories we can think of. I'll go first." He continued like this for an hour, asking questions, and then answering them immediately. The best one was "What was your favorite miracle that Christ performed?" He is great.

Friday, May 6, 2011

Billie Holiday and Other Idols

I took a history of jazz class once. I can't remember anything that I learned except that most every musician does exorbitant amounts of drugs and that jazz music soothes the soul. I was always drawn to Lady Day aka Billie Holiday aka Eleanora Fagan. Her voice lacks the melodic quality of Ella Fitzgerald and the raw power of Etta James, but there is something haunting and beautiful. She was arrested for drug possession as she lay dying. Tragic




She came to mind today because I went to the Georgia Museum of Art today and saw this painting:
I liked it, but it was the high point of the museum. The security guards were super old and scary. I feel like I added some class to the job. I wanted to stick up my nose and say "you don't have any real authority. I know all about it. And you call that sweater vest a uniform?" And then do my best impersonation of Caroline Bingley and make them feel vastly inferior.



"Surely, you caaan't be serious."

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

May the Fourth (Be With You)


I wrote this whole witty post about Star Wars and stuff, but it got deleted (I'm pretty new at this) so I'm just going to sum it up.

1. This is awesome mostly because of the love handles.

2. Luke Bangerter is a huge Star Wars nerd and I love it.

3. I went to the Zoo Atlanta (weird Georgians and their trendy word arrangin') and took this video for Mikelle.



4. My sister-in-law and I have been working on some cool wedding decor, which will be the (bantha) fodder of future blog posts.
I'll be heading to Spokane, Washington this weekend. It's going to be great.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Ode to the MOA

When I was 18, and preparing to attend BYU in the Fall of 2007, I applied to work at the Brigham Young University Museum of Art. Fresh out of high school, I was more concerned with abusing my newly found freedom than paying for college, but somehow I landed a job as a security guard (a shallow hiring pool, I'm told.)

Pre-MOA Marlee: Before the pepper spray.

The first thing I did upon receiving my uniform was take some emo pictures to match my new hair.
Not even the toilet in the background can detract from the hotness.

Needless to say, I didn't take the job very seriously. Once the "new uniform" feeling wore off, I mostly just did the bare minimum at work, nose buried in a clipboard. What changed? Firstly, I met this girl:

Jessica Day, as was. She was funny, smart, mildly inappropriate, and also under the employ of the Museum. Unlike me, she valued art and added value to her job. I slowly started to look forward to work, as we became better friends. She would later help me shift my style from emo to hipster, without which I might still be wearing belts donned with bullets and more eyeliner than the average lid can sustain. We should all be grateful for that.

The real epiphany happened when I went home for the summer. Applying at every place in Deer Park, Washington, and meeting rejection, McDonald's was my only option. It was hot, greasy, trashy, exhausting, and just sad.


The uniforms were no longer a crisp white, adorned with badges and glory, but closely resembled the oil vats into which millions of McChickens journeyed daily, under my supervision. I listened to my coworkers talk about the parties they went to, the conquests they engaged in, resulting in a child or two a-piece, resulting in tattoos to commemorate said children. The highlight of my whole summer was the guy who came through the drive-thru blasting classical music and telling me how "awfully cute I was." I smiled for the better part of an hour.

O, how I missed the MOA! I came crawling back that fall, reverently put my
uniform on, and proceeded to guard the art with a new sense of purpose. Okay, that's not true, but I made an important new friend.

Samuel James Dunn, Esq., referred heretofore as Sam Dunn. He would
become one of my best friends at BYU. We both majored in English, laughed at the same things (which, admittedly, is not saying much, since he's a pretty cheap laugh) and had a strikingly similar outlook on life. He would listen to my long rants - usually dating woes - and once popped a gross blister on my foot. I would encourage him to do as little security guarding as possible, and debate the value of modernism. As far as work was concerned, he was an excellent security guard, and it made me at least think about taking my job seriously. We fought boredom valiantly.

My change of attitude improved my relationship with my boss.
Randy O'Hara, who scared me to death for the first year, became the second father that I never knew I wanted. Our list of commonalities was short. Our definition of LDS was as different at our delineation of what Conservative meant, but eventually, that didn't matter. He loved his student employees, and we loved him. He was generous, hilarious, pragmatic, and fair. He told me at least a hundred times that he only hired me as a tax benefit because of my "special needs," but on my last day at work, he got teary-eyed as he told me that I make his heart smile. I love that guy.

One of the hardest things about graduating was leaving the MOA. Obviously, it was time, and my work pants showed the wear of the thousands of hours I spent walking through the galleries, but when I return to Provo, I think I will have to fight the urge to return and reminisce, or at least don and backpack, wield a camera, and give the current guards some excitement. It houses some fantastic art, and employed some incredible people. Thanks.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Dear Everyone,
After thinking about it for about four years, I've decided to start a blog. I like reading blogs. I like writing. I don't know why it took me so long. So welcome to my first blog post.
Starting a blog right now makes sense for a myriad of reasons. I'm at a weird stage of life. For starters...



I'm in Georgia visiting my brother and sister-in-law and their little girls. This is significant because usually I've been going to school in Provo, Utah for the past ever and recently...




I graduated with a degree in English. And that's terribly exciting, but the most significant thing in my life is that...




I am engaged to the most best guy in the world, Luke Bangerter, which means that spell-check will now veto both my first and last name.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that my life is a-changing, and in good ways. I feel like I have things to say, pictures to share, links to post, tears to jerk; essentially, it's a selfish venture. I like it.

Love,
Marlee