Dating to Find Real Love... Someday.

I'm just barely in between where no one wants to date me because dating has become "serious" and they're looking for a future companion and consider me "too young" or they're getting ready to leave on a mission. See, I'm 18. Everyone my age is leaving on missions. Everyone else that's in my ward or back from their missions are looking for someone older that will actually want to be getting married, if it works out.


Then there are the "lists"; what each person is looking for in a spouse. While it can be good to have a general idea of what you're looking for and know what you have found to be attractive in the past, it's fair to say that the odds of finding the "perfect person" are really slim, if not impossible. No one is perfect. Make sure that if you do have a list like that, you're willing to compromise some of the traits. Who knows? You may be surprised and end up falling in love with someone just a little different than the ideal person you imagined. I think that as long as the most important structure for a relationship is met (Real love versus interest, and the core values of what you're looking for) then with hard work, cooperation, patience, etc, it will work. However, it takes effort on the behalf of both partners in the marriage in order for it to work. One person alone cannot make a marriage work, if the other isn't willing to work on it as well.

I'm not going out of my way to look for marriage yet. I, unlike so many of my peers growing up, actually know I have never been in love, and have not mistaken really liking someone for being in love. The warm feelings you get from liking someone isn't usually actual true love. I am looking for something more REAL though, which would eventually lead to me being able to be married in the temple with a worthy priesthood holder.

To me, love isn't the physical aspect of the relationship. It's unconditional. You would love them even if you weren't able to physically express that love, you would love them even if they were to make a mistake. Loving is forgiving. Love is respect, honesty, trust, communication, patience, understanding, friendship, and hope. It's when you know they love you back. Unconditionally. And you know they'll never leave you.

My opinion is that you will marry your best friend. The person you end up marrying should be your best friend. I mean, that doesn't mean you're stuck with marrying who your current best friend is. But by the time you're engaged? That person should be the one you can talk to about ANYTHING. They should be your best friend. And, on top of that, the best relationships form structured around a secure friendship. Friendship develops into real love.

According to a class I took, this is the real love list (as in, real love, not the real list):

1. The person giving the love doesn't need or want anything from me.
2. The person is firm. He does no "please me" or do whatever I ask. He does not go against his own feelings in order to "not hurt my feelings." He is true to himself.
3. I know I am loved because he listens and understands me when I talk or relate to him. He takes turns listening and talking and doesn't tell me what to do or what he thinks until I ask and often I ask. He doesn't always agree, he cares what I think and feel.
4. He hugs me. He holds me. He takes my arm or hand. He is not afraid of physical affection. He doesn't use this for some deficiency of his own. It's never anything to do with sex. It's brother-sister love, human family love.
5. The loving person respects me. He makes me feel there is something inside me that "turns him on." It's a non-verbal thing; a certain "soft" look in his face, a certain tone in his voice, the way he sits or moves - it's all right there.
6. His love is permanent and sure because it's based on his feelings for himself. It's guaranteed he'll always like me, since he'd have to stop loving his own inside self to stop loving mine.
7. He wants to be with me.The loving person is happy when I'm near. He loves to be alone, too. He loves me more than he needs me.
8. I know I am loved because he tells me. The person who loves me is not afraid to say it. He usually tells it like it is; good or bad. You know he'll tell you "where it's at," because he likes the truth better than pleasing or displeasing you.

So, that's what I'm going to be looking for.

My Idea Of An Awesome Pet

 Maybe I really am an oddity. I've always thought of the oddest creatures as the coolest kind of pet. :)

 This is a caracal. I saw it on a nature video, and decided it was the coolest cat in the world. I decided I would have one in the afterlife, but I just found out they are actually something you can have as a pet. Yeeeessss =D Maybe someday :)

See Hermit Crab below? Yeah, I've actually owned one :) I asked my mom for one when I was younger. I thought it was awesome, until I realized, yeah... They pinch... haha

Sugar Glider. I want one someday. My YW leader had a few. Only downside? They're nocturnal. 

I've always thought the idea of having a pet hedgehog is awesome. They're so cute!!!

And yes. A pet ferret would be awesome :)

What An Odd Child Was I...

During Thanksgiving, dinner conversation changed at one point to how horrid I was as a child. "I was so worried about what you'd be like as a teenager," my mom told me, "but as it turned out I had nothing to worry about. You turned out really well." Then the reminiscing came into play. :)

My mom looked EVERYWHERE for me and my older brother, but could not find us for a few hours. Finally, in desperation, she called the police just in case. Going into the backyard in one last effort, she called out, "You two better come out! I called the police and they're going to come look for you!" Sure enough, a rustling sound suddenly came from underneath the camper. James and I came out from underneath. Furious at us for hiding and scaring her like that, she made us sit on the front porch with her to wait for the police to arrive, to explain what had happened. It was silent on the porch for a while, then suddenly I began gasping and crying, until I was full-out sobbing. Confused, my mom turned to me. "What's wrong?" she asked. Between sobs, I told her in devastation, "I don't want to go to prison and hang on the wall and get turned into a skeleton!" My mom said right then, her heart melted for me, and she hugged me and told me it was alright, I wouldn't have to go to jail.

"Oh, my goodness. And how bad she was with taking medicine!" my aunt chimed in. "Oh, goodness," my mom groaned, laughing and shaking her head. "Lisa, you were TERRIBLE!!" My mom and aunt then proceeded to recall both of them having to tackle me, sit on top of me, one of them holding me down and the other plugging my nose, forcing my mouth open, and trying to get the medicine in. I would gurgle out the medicine, getting it all over my clothes, and refuse to take it. "You were always either overdosing, or under dosing. We could never tell how much actually went into you, and how much was all over us and your clothes..."

I then contributed to the conversation, laughing over some of the things I remembered from when I was small. "One time, James and I were playing 'runaways', and making believe that we had run away from home and were going to live out in the wilderness. I was maybe 4 or 5 at the time, making James 6 or 7. Anyway, we decided to go live under this willow tree in someone's front yard, and had that be our home. That went well, until I realized I really had to go to the bathroom. "Hey, James," I told him, hesitantly, "can we go back home really quick? I have to go to the bathroom." James adamantly refused to go back home, and told me to just go over there (he pointed to a patch of grass maybe 6 feet away from where we were). Being the ever obedient little sister that I was, I went over there and went. As I was going, I remember feeling a little self conscious, since this was right in front of a busy road." At this point, my mom, aunt, uncle, and cousins were laughing rather hard at my story. "When I got back home, you were so mad at us for running off," I told my mom, laughing, "You sent us upstairs and barricaded the stairs with a couch so that we would have to stay up there." My mom was laughing, then told me, "Well, YEAH. Can you blame me? You two were always running off and getting into trouble, and you were always the perfectly obedient little follower."

Other stories were brought up, and we all laughed at what a horrible child I was. Now, other stories came to mind. :)

I was painting my younger sister's nails when my younger brother, just 3 years younger and next in line after me, came across us. "I want you to paint my nails, too!" he declared. I gave him an odd look. "Mathew, painting nails is a girl thing. You don't want me to paint your nails." After several minutes of declaring that he did indeed want his nails polished, I finally did his nails too. Then all three of us dressed up in dresses and did a fairy dance in the backyard.

My bike had once again made me fall, and I was furious with it. In punishment, I laid it out on the yard and proceeded to bury it in grass, as my way of holding a funeral for my bike. In my mind's eye, it looked at me with sadness and begged to not be buried, that it would do better, and wouldn't make me fall again. "No, I gave you warnings already. That was your last chance," I said aloud to my bike. Just as the funeral was nearing an end (it was almost covered in grass), my older brother called to me from across the street. "Hey, Lisa! Get your bike and come with me to a friend's house on a bike ride!" All anger towards my bike vanished, and I told it, "Ok, fine. You can have one more chance." My bike seemed to be singing in gratitude and happiness as I rode over to where my older brother stood, grateful to not be joined with the dead.

Jacob Levi Aagad

"Hey, Liza! I made something for you!" my younger sister calls from the other room. Not wanting to get up to go see, I call back, "What?" "Come see!" she responds. Getting up, I wander over to the other room, and she hands me a stick figure she has made out of yellow balloons. "I made you a boyfriend," she tells me, the look on her face triumphant. I laugh, then, grinning, take him to my bedroom.
I told all my friends about him, and even kissed him on his balloon cheek with lipstick so it would leave a mark. When they asked me what his name was I asked for suggestions. Teasing, my friend Danny responded, "You should name him Mr. Almost As Good As Danny!" Finally, I opened my Book of Mormon to the pronunciation guide to look up names. Jacob and Levi stood out to me, so that became his name. Jacob Levi Aagad. Aagad standing for Almost As Good As Danny, as a joke. My sister made an orange balloon sword for him, so he could protect me. He guarded my room every night for a few weeks until he popped. I told my friends about it, sadly, then saved the pieces.
A few months later, my friend and I decided to go to Build-A-Bear and make me another boyfriend. We decided that Jacob had to live on - after all, that was a sad and untimely death. Jacob Levi Aagad, my new teddybear boyfriend. :) I was delighted. I even went so far as to list why a teddy bear made the best boyfriend on Facebook:

The best things about my boyfriend being my teddybear: He's always smiling, he gives great hugs, he's always there when I need someone to talk to, and he always listens patiently without interrupting. He doesn't laugh at me when I trip flat on my face in front of him, and he doesn't criticize me for doing things wrong.... He doesn't even complain when I don't feel like cooking. I rest my case. ;)

My teddybear boyfriend was all I could ever hope for. When I had a bad day, he was there to hug me better. When I needed someone to hold me close, I wrapped my arms around it, and neither of us had to say a word. ♥