Sunday Best: Gramps

top: Old Navy, shorts: thrifted, belt: Target, loafers: thrifted, shades: Claire's, necklace and earrings: air looms

A plaid button-up, high-waist shorts, and loafers. . .all I need now is an armchair and the newspaper and you can call me an old man. I wouldn't be offended though. I can see why they wear such things. It's comfortable and automatically makes me feel like I have authority in some sort of laid-back way. 

Win-win.  

Old Folk Know How to Party

I hope everyone had a happy Halloween. I hope it was filled with candy, costumes, and games. And I really hope that today everyone is in a sugar coma. I feel like I might be. Especially since we only had about ten people tops come trick-or-treating last night. So what do I do with the extra candy in our Halloween cauldron? Well, I eat it. I'm a weak-willed person and those fun-size Twix bars and Snickers bars keep shouting my name. 

Brian and I made a pretty good lookin' old couple, I must say. 

And as for our party on Saturday, it was a treat for sure. I'm so glad we decided to put a party on even though we decided to at last minute. You should have seen Brian and I hurrying about all day Saturday. In the morning we went to the store to get a few decorations and treats and ended up with a cart-load. Give us a break, the Halloween stuff was already on a great sale! Plus, years of high school student council and planning assemblies and dances have caused Brian and I to get an itch to put on big parties. We should start a party planning business. I'd be cool with that. So after spending more than we should have on Halloween decor, we spent the afternoon transforming our apartment into a haunted house. Hanging lights here, stretching cobwebs there, brewing up treats, and setting up strobe lights. It was a fun ordeal. When 8 o'clock rolled around, we were pretty stoked out of our minds for our guests to arrive. 

 The turnout was great for letting people know basically the day before, we had about twenty people show up. Games were played, food was consumed, and we had some impressive costumes. Thanks to everyone who came out and brought treats for the treat table as well. We had some awesome homemade treats! Even though I only got one taste of Lauren's bean dip because it was quickly consumed, I think I had an overload on chocolate and peanut butter from Bailey's amazing homemade  peanut butter balls. 

I think the best part of the night was when Bailey and her boyfriend, Jade (Fred and Velma in the pictures below) looked very alarmed when we answered the door for them to come in. Apparently it threw them off to have a little old couple answer the door (I was also holding Luna in my arms). They told us later on in the night that our costumes fooled them. They thought for a minute they had the wrong house. 

Any ways, enjoy an overload of pictures from our party. There were just so many good ones. I couldn't leave any out. 

When I am Old and Grey. . .

Last week, Brian and I went to lunch at my favorite sandwich place (besides New York Deli in Preston, ID), Great Harvest. It just has a nice feel. It is in Downtown Logan, which I am in love with Downtown Logan, and they give you wonderful bread samples the moment you walk through the door. Brian and I sat down at a table and began feasting on our sandwiches, but then I got distracted.

This is nothing new. Distraction is one of my good friends. We know each other well. He visits me often. Sometimes Distraction is bad to me. . .for instance, when I am trying to pay attention to my professor in math. This is not a very appropriate time for Distraction to visit me, but he still comes often at that time any ways. In some situations though, Distraction is one of my best friends. He helps me notice things around me that go ignored by the majority of other people. I am grateful for this, because I feel too many people rush around the world and don't take time to enjoy it. I truly enjoy the world. I enjoy living. I enjoy good visits by Distraction. This visit in Great Harvest was one of those good ones.

Between bites of sandwich, I noticed the cutest, little old man walking slowly to the table in front of us. I instantly loved him. I wanted to hug him. Old people just plain make me happy. Then his little, old wife followed him. She sat down across from him. She was wearing a bright orange coat. It was very old fashioned and classy. As they ate, they smiled and spoke softly to each other. I almost felt like crying, and I don't even know why. I instantly started doing something I do with many people I get distracted by.

I started wondering what their story was. Who were these old people? What kind of lives had they lived? How did they fall in love? Where did they meet? Did they have children? Had they struggled? I wanted so much to know their story.

Brian knows me. And he noticed from the very beginning how I was watching this old couple. When he finally got my attention, he asked,



"Kelsey, how come you love old people so much?"



I did not answer. Or maybe I replied that they are cute. But even though they are cute, that is not the real answer to why I love old people.

I sat the remainder of the time, asking myself this same question that Brian had just asked me. When we were ready to go, we threw our sandwich bags away and headed outside. As we strolled down the sidewalk, I broke the silence,


"They've lived."


Brian looked at me, waiting for me to explain. I think he has gotten use to my random outbursts by now.


"I love old people because they have lived life. They have really experienced it."




I felt my eyes get big and I smiled at Brian. He just smiled back. Probably because he thinks I am crazy.



In today's world, everyone wants youth. To stay young forever. That's nonsense. You are going to get older no matter what, so just face it. And I do not see what is so horrible about growing old any ways. I think it is amazing. To be born, an innocent baby. To learn and grow.


To experience. And once you have done your learning and growing, you die. And hopefully through all your learning and growing, you teach some other people too, so that they carry a part of your story on.

I am excited to have wrinkles one day when I am old. I googled 'smile lines' a moment ago, just to see what would happen. All the results were about how to get rid of your 'smile lines' and to look younger. Why do we think to be beautiful, we must get rid of lines formed by years of hard working happiness and smiling? I will embrace my smile lines gladly, so everyone will know that I have been happy.


I am excited for the day when I will be an old lady sitting in a sandwich shop, with a story to my life. I am not excited for my body to hurt and feel old. But I am excited to be able to say,


I have lived.

Sorry Girls, Your Life is Not a Chick Flick

Last night I went and saw a movie with my dear friend, Shayla. It was a chick flick. It was entertaining. It made me laugh. But as all these chick flicks are, it was very predictable.

• The couple thinks they're "in love" after about two days of knowing each other

• There is some pathetic problem that arises and about breaks the couple up after about a week. The couple freaks out more than needed and they usually say something along the lines of, "I hate you and never want to see you again."

• Then I swear, the very next day, the couple gets back together and says, "I love you again." They kiss, get married, everyone is happy. Woo hoo.

Girls: Stop wanting your life to be a chick flick. It's what I'd call fake love. If you want to watch a movie that shows you what (I think) true love is, then you choose the most unreal movie out there. It's a cartoon for crying out loud. But when I find the right person, I want to live a life similar to Carl and Ellie's from the movie "UP". If it turns out that way, I'll die happy. I put this clip from the movie on. Watch it. And I'll tell you a secret about this clip. . . . .I cry every time I watch it. I can't help it. It's pretty embarrassing really. But I cry. Because I love Carl and Ellie. I want what they've got. Someday I want that. I don't need to be swept off my feet. I just want to someday marry my best friend. I want every day with them to be a grand adventure. I want my Carl to love me so much that he'd live in a colorful old house with me too. I want to grow old with him. This right here is what I want:

Yep. That's what I want. It's perfect. I've been accused before of not being romantic. And it made me depressed because I thought, "I am toooooo romantic," until I realized, "Ugh. I'm not romantic at all." But I'd like to come out and say, I AM A VERY ROMANTIC PERSON. It's just a little different than other's ideas of being romantic. And I actually do believe in love. Even though I do make fun of it basically all the time. Let me rephrase that actually: I make fun of people that think they're in love. Too often in the world now, people fall into this "fake love". The kind you see on chick flicks. It makes me sad. Because geez, the world is missing out! They're missing out on the real deal.

I told this guy I liked once upon a time that I wanted to one day marry my pal. He told me that was stupid. You don't marry your pal. You marry someone you're in love with. Well, I got news for you. I've got lots of pals, but I'll marry the pal that I fall in love with on top of that. Because if we're pals that are also madly in love. . . .we've got it made, folks. All those people who are madly in love and get married, but they aren't pals. . . .they end up getting sick of each other after a few years. Or months. So the joke is on you, guy I liked once upon a time.

Years from now, that old colorful house is mine. You have my word.