Christmas ambiance

Back in September or October, I had this dream a couple of times: it was December 15 and I hadn't listened to any Christmas music yet. This is the dark stuff of Christmas nightmares, stemming from my irrational fear that I won't have enough time to enjoy the build-up to Christmas.

I've always loved Christmas, but as I've gotten older I've come to love the weeks leading up to Christmas more than the actual Christmas Day. My family didn't have a lot of Christmas traditions growing up—aside from the eight or so family parties we hit every year—but we went all out with the Christmas ambiance: the lights and decorations, the foods and smells, the movies and music, the family togetherness and shared excitement. Living in the higher elevations, we even got more snow than most places did.

Ten years of apartment living has taken a lot of that Christmas ambiance away. Turns out you can still do a lot to create a happy, cozy place to live, but my little basement apartment lacked many of the necessities for a good Christmas season. An exterior to decorate with lights. The absence of city lights so the holiday lights can really shine. A front porch, deck, or even just a window with an unobstructed view of the winter wonderland you're living in. Space for stuff that serves no practical purpose, like 7.5-foot Christmas trees and giant pots for making spiced cider.

I got all that in bursts of Christmas cheer whenever I went home for the holidays. But this year, I finally get to duplicate some of that magic at my new house and enjoy the Christmas mood for longer. There's still nothing quite like going home for Christmas, but finally having the ambiance—at my own home—I've lacked for the last 10 years has felt like living out a Christmas fantasy.

The downside? My hibernation mode kicks into high gear every fall and only increases through January; with all the extra homeyness I've enjoyed this year, I resent anything that drags me away from the coziness of my Christmas lights and fuzzy socks and hot chocolate. During this season of get-togethers and concerts and service, alongside the ever-moving train of work, I've become a Grinch who only wants to stay home, where time slows down and relaxation is only a change of clothes away.

It's the best of times, the worst of times. But mostly the best.

A summer of new experiences

August is just about over, and you know what that means: alternating panic and self-flagellation for wasting another summer.

Except, I'm not getting that feeling. Because I did things this summer. I was too busy living new experiences to be bothered too much by the things I love to gripe about during the summer (the heat, the sleep trouble, the having to go to work—you know the list).

Apartment renter to homeowner

This is the big one, guys—the biggest change I've made since I started working after college. And in almost all ways, it's been a positive one.

But moving from a one-bedroom apartment to a four-bedroom house brings some challenges. Like, finding the energy to vacuum all. that. carpet. And having three levels instead of one—I feel like I'm trekking up and down stairs constantly. And now that I have about 47 closets, it takes me much longer to find lost items (weeks longer, in some cases, because I routinely forget about certain closets). And I have three bathrooms to clean now, because one person definitely needs three bathrooms. Seriously, between the miles and miles of carpet and the infinite number of closets and doors, sometimes I miss that grungy little apartment for its sheer simplicity.

(There's also the commute. Before school started it was long but bearable, but now it adds an extra hour of hell to every work day and I can't talk about it without getting ENRAGED so let's move on.)

But everything else? Awesome. I love how soft and fluffy the carpet is, even if I resent its abundance. I LOVE having a kitchen that's big enough to move around in. No more balancing cookie sheets over the sink or having to move eight things every time I need to cut up some vegetables. I love having a few extra rooms so I don't have to keep all my stuff in my bedroom if I don't want to. I LOVE having a garage to park my car in; it's my favorite adulting thing ever. I love that everything is brand new so I don't have to worry about stuff breaking on me just yet. I love putting any investment into this new space of mine, whether it be cleaning/decorating or putting in a water softener. It's mine to do with what I wish, and there's a certain pride and joy that comes with that.

Another thing I love? I have a library. As if I needed another happy place in this house.

Never been outside the U.S. to world traveler

I finally did it—I traveled outside the U.S., to the exotic land of Canada. Still no stamp on my passport because apparently you have to travel in by plane to do that, but we took many pictures to mark the occasion.

I didn't expect Canada to feel any different from the U.S., but right away I noticed some things that made it feel "foreign." Like their use of the metric system—I'm a dumb American, so I couldn't tell you how much gas costs there in Americanese. You see French almost as much as you do English, and Canadians are super nice. And not in that fake way you get here all the time where we just act nice because we're supposed to, or smile sweetly while plotting ways to murder someone. It's a real, genuine, not-at-all annoying niceness, and I think we should all be like Canadians.

Also, Niagara Falls is incredible. The boat tour was my favorite part of the entire trip.

Singles ward to family ward

This was by far the hardest transition I made this summer, but it had to be done. I may still end up back in a singles ward once I officially hit "mid-singles" age, but for now it's been a nice break from the YSA wards I've outgrown, and it's been a great way to help me get to know my neighbors and actually become a part of the community I live in. Plus, I have family in the ward again, and I was given one of the few family ward callings that doesn't terrify me—primary pianist.

Still, my heart goes out to any LDS single (sorry, Latter-day Saint single) making this transition, because it's rough. I hated feeling like I couldn't blend in anymore, and I really missed quiet sacrament meetings. (Still do.) But it got easier, and eventually I started believing what I kept telling myself—that everyone else is too wrapped up in their own lives to notice how different mine is, and that I share more similarities with these strange married people than I realize.

But, there is one thing I'm not sure I'll ever get used to: calling people Brother/Sister So-and-So. One of the many great things about singles wards is that everyone addresses each other my their first name—like you would in literally every other adult situation—so going back to the Brother/Sister thing feels archaic. It's not quite as strange when the primary people call me Sister Carter, but I'm still holding out hope that this weird cultural thing will die out.

4-time Convention survivor to 5-time Convention survivor

Nothing new about this year's USANA Convention experience, other than it was an easy one for me. ("Easy" being an extremely relative term here.) And that I broke my single-day steps record (22,000). And that I somehow still had the energy to smile on Saturday morning.

Pardon the bags under the eyes. They're part of the Convention uniform.

Cheers to an abundant summer. Even if your summer wasn't abundant, take heart in knowing that the best season has only just begun.

The longest wait

Five months. The longest wait of my life.

Buying a house is something I've wanted to do for years. It was a new year's resolution more than once, but every time I started to move forward, I panicked and decided it could wait another year or two. #CommitmentIssues

But when the time was finally right, it happened fast. As in, less than a week after I started searching for reals, I signed a contract.

The way everything fell into place so perfectly and so quickly is a post for another day. Because this post is about waiting.

A theme I'm quite familiar with.

Since the townhouse I bought wasn't built yet, move-in day was still a ways out. And the combination of my excitement and complete readiness to move on with my life actually caused time to slow down. (You'll be reading about the effects this is having on global warming, the economy, politics, etc. soon.) Even as I write this, I'm not convinced my house will ever actually be ready, because by then time will have slowed down so much it will have stopped completely, leaving me stuck in the waiting period between two lives.

The slab of cement to the left of Jeremy is mine. Jeremy kind of looks like a giant in this picture.

Figuring out how to live in the present the past five months has been a challenge. There's a reason I needed a change; I no longer felt like I belonged in the YSA Midvale life. Being forced to stay put when I knew I had a ticket out just rubbed salt in the wound.

At first I resolved to make the most of my dwindling days in SLC, particularly my singles ward. I would magnify my calling I felt wholly unsuited for and make one final push to establish strong bonds where I was at. All so I could make the separation harder on myself. I joke, but I yearned to leave something behind as evidence that I had lived here.

And sometimes I succeeded at going out in my blaze of glory. But the closer May became—the month my house was supposed to be finished—the less motivated I was to engage in my current life at all. It's been so frustrating wanting to give up on singles wards once and for all but still needing to feel like I was contributing where I was at.

One of the ways I coped was by crocheting. I've crocheted three rugs so far to put in the bathrooms, the kitchen, maybe I'll do one in the library—the important thing is that it's allowed me to work toward my future in a small way while getting my mind off everything else.

Winter slowly turned into spring, and my house started to take shape. Even though the wait has been torture, it really has been fun to see my house at every stage of the building process. My favorite was when it was all just wood, because it took me back to the days when my childhood house was being built. I was only 4 at the time, but I remember scoping out the territory a few times. (The giant pile of dirt in the front yard was a memorable highlight.) And then years later when Dad was finishing the basement, my sisters and I spent a lot of time downstairs roller blading in and out of all the wooden pillars.

One of the three bedrooms. It's going to be so weird to have so much space.

So I was a little sad to see the wood covered up, but eventually you have to let your babies grow up.

Funny story: when a bunch of us went to tour our houses (I bought the townhouse next to Kimberly and Jeremy's), we had our houses mixed up. So when we were exclaiming over my spare rooms, we were actually walking through Avonlea's and Conrad's rooms. So I flipped this picture because I know it'll drive me crazy in the future seeing us waving at each other from the wrong directions.

And life resumed its snail pace. They built the roof, I started binge-watching one of my comfort shows, Once Upon a Time.

They installed the drywall, I got really into watching the Jazz in the playoffs (I've never been this excited and hopeful for the future of this team).

I was most distressed when I arrived to see the construction crew at my house, which meant I wouldn't be able to explore inside. :(

They started painting, I read my first Stephen King novel.

I did not get to pick the exterior color, so I was a little bummed to see we got tan instead of the blue/gray I was hoping for. But it does remind me a bit of the yellow house I grew up in.

Attempts were made to actually live life rather than just escape it, but I've been trying to close this chapter of my life for almost a year—I have very little left to give at this point. Just let me embrace my role as the spinster aunt already.

I'll lure my niece and nephews in with empty promises like "Someday, all of this could be yours."

The builders tell me they're on track to be finished by the end of May, but I'm having trouble feeling any excitement about this news. Because, like I said, time will have stopped by then.

This is what waiting does to you.