{The Chick-Flick Syndrome}

What is romance exactly? According to Webster's dictionary it's a "marked by expressions of love or affection."

I was conditioned early to believe romance is what the media defines it. "Chick flicks" have convinced the female population that romance is writing ones name in a book to serendipitously find one another the day before one's wedding. Or perhaps falling in love with a woman who was the recipient of your dead wife's heart. Girls today spend way too much time swooning over the heroes in these movies. Thirty years later, still swooning, they are still waiting for Patrick Dempse to sweep them off their feet (he was pretty smooth in can't buy love). I like to refer to this as the "chick-flick syndrome".

Are there truly couples living a chick flickesque fantasy? Truthfully, in my youth I believed that love was some mystical, magical affair full of moments that took your breath away. As an adult I view romance and love a little differently.

McKay was the biggest blessing in my life and I love him dearly. Do a herd of butterflies let loose in my abdominal cavity each time I look at him? No. But sometimes in the morning when he is still sleeping I catch myself looking at him and wondering how I got so darn lucky. Do we spend our evenings dancing in a candle-lit, rose petal scattered room? Not as of today (not sure it's physically possible for us to dance due to our foot plus height difference). Usually I fall asleep giggling over some humorous declaration McKay has made (last week he boldly pronounced "I'm bringing cannibalism back"). McKay doesn't leave me love poems, he does something even better. He tells me at least ten times a day he loves me, is constantly doing thoughtful things and makes me feel like I am the perfect girl for him. I sure am glad my romance is not a replica of the most recent chick flick.

Sometimes I worry about the way romance and love is portrayed by the media. Working with the youth, I have seen how easily they are influenced. They learn that love and relationships are lustful, physical and perfect (this is my major problem with a popular book, now movie series which shall remain nameless). If they are not grounded by good, realistic influences they may rush off and jump into marriage unprepared and with an expectation of grand romantic gestures and a perfect life. I am not saying chick flicks should be banned from society (I am not a major fan of chick flicks, but there are a handful with redeeming quality and can definitely serve as a good source of entertainment). Do these unrealistic ideas of romance become embedded in our subconscious and effect our expectations of marriage and love? At the first sign of difficulty are some dreams of a fairy tale relationship crushed and a relationship become irreparable? In a world where divorce is rampant, does real love really stand a chance?

Perhaps I am being a bit dramatic. I guess I must have a little Christina in me after all.

Ah, romance at it's finest.

{I owe my great biceps to my books}

9 books. 53.6 lbs. $612.34.

15 weeks.

Hundreds of hours staring at the mac.

16 pap smears.

One week, two written tests, and one head-to-toe exam and I will be a free woman. My month of freedom will involve lounging on the sofa indulging in my favorite soaps (luckily, nothing new will have happened in them since I last watched 6 years ago).

Semester in review, things I've learned:

1. Online discussions bite.

2. Each class possesses at least one know-it-all (the one in my program frequently uses the word "eloquent". Nothing in healthcare is eloquent, especially a prostate exam).

3. After only one semester, friends and family consider me a full blown provider, thus ensues a plethora of phone calls and endless medical questions. It's really quite flattering.

4. No matter how many times you swallow, I still can't feel that dang thyroid.

5. I heart learning. Cheesy though it may be, I have loved this new educational chapter in my life.

6. I really hate the Twilight series (though this has nothing to do with my education, it is something I've learned this semester).

*SISTERS*

Sisters rock...especially mine. Of course my sisters were not always my best friends.

Between ages 13-20 Christina's picture would have been found under "MOODY" in the dictionary. What can I say, the girl was certainly mercurial. Some days we did not have sisterly love. Despite her erratic behavior I always worshiped my older sister. She was popular, talented and was always being chased by a small army of good looking boys (one even climbed our front porch one night in a romantic pursuit to enter her second story window. The attempt to woo my sister ended dramatically when my father stormed out the front door with a gun). Did I mention she had a vast assortment of very flashy braziers? Over the years the moodiness was exchanged for passion. Anyone who knows my sister will eventually get an ear-full of opinions about this-or-that. I love this about her. She is also the fearless mother of two very rambunctious and unpredictable twin girls. I simply could not do what she does.

Poor Amy was my loyal roommate of 14 years. I was no doubt a difficult roommate. As a child I was nicknamed "Queen Marybeth," and for good reason. I always got my way. Amy patiently put up with me as I ruled the kingdom. We were reunited as roommates when Amy came to college, and she quickly became my best friend. We shared a room, a computer (which I inadvertently spilled water on), a fish tank, a few boyfriends and a lot of good times. In ninth grade I wrote a poem comparing my sister to an egg which had not hatched. When the egg hatched, no one was prepared for what came out. She has always danced to her own rhythm. The girl can wear just about anything, even leggings (not saying I am in support of this fashion statement) and look fabulous. She is a designing diva. Once a loyal roommate, now a loyal friend. As when we were children, she will do anything to make others happy.

My third sister, my mom (often referred to as my twin 30 years older). She raised five slightly strange, and pretty incredible children. The woman is about as perfect as you can get. Once grandpa related a story of mom's disobedience. She was out at the local soda shop and did not arrive home at the designated time. Concerned, and perhaps a little disappointed, grandpa went out to find her. Arriving at the shop he entered and stepped on some tacks strategically placed by my mom and company. Pretty rebellious. I don't know anyone that doesn't love my mom. I often suspected my friends liked my mom more than they did me. She is a walking dictionary and a professional shopper. She has read more books than the public library owns and she is always right.

Just a little tribute to the sisters I miss.

*it's a Utah thing...you wouldn't understand*

Recently, I have noticed a few trends that seem to have captured the hearts, and pocketbooks of Utahns. I do not point these out to make fun of or belittle my fellow Utahns (I am guilty of a few as well), this is simply an interesting observation.

1. The interchangeable beaded watchbands. When Amy ventured back home she was alarmed by sheer number of people adorning this new fashion statement. Though none of the Westerberg girls currently model this accessory I understand its appeal. It serves two purposes: a watch (I currently use my cell phone) and a fashionable bracelet that can be swapped to accessorize any outfit.

2. Vinyl lettering. This has truly taken Utah by storm. There are few walls in this state that are without precious, heart warming sayings. If I were to adopt this decor detail, mine would most certainly say, "Take of your danged shoes, I just mopped the danged floor." I may replace the word "danged" with a more colorful word (I am very passionate about keeping my floors clean).

3. Photographers. Is it just me, or does there seem to be a vast number of photographers in this state? I've at least half a dozen friends who've recently launched their own photography business.

4. Signs. I think this trend may be on it's way out. The only people still clinging to this are those who have not yet discovered vinyl lettering. Really vinyl lettering is just an updated version of signs. I must admit I do own two signs, must to my husbands chagrin. While we are on the subject, what's up with the tiles with sayings?

{the goings-on}

What's been going on at the Wilson house? Studying, raking of leaves and frequent use of the cocoa latte machine inherited from mother Julie. Due to the desperate need for an updated post (and nothing to update you on) I have posted a few pictures recently taken.

First snow in Logan canyon and a friendly moose who posed for a picture and remained on the road for what I would consider an unsafe period of time. If the hunters haven't gotten her some unsuspecting traveler certainly has.

The Wilsons at most beautiful spot in the West, Station Creek, Idaho.

{Academia: a black hole}

For those of faithful blog followers who have been checking daily for an exciting update, I apologize. I literally have been sucked into the black hole I refer to as academia. McKay now refers to the computer room as my "cave". I am spending so much time with my computer I think McKay is beginning to wonder if I will leave him for the mac. We are both surviving and enjoying the journey (he still gets an occasional pie so he's a happy camper). Hopefully I will have something new and exciting to post soon (it will most likely be my nursing theory paper on grief and the terminally ill. Certain to be published.)

Where I am imagining myself after 8 hours of vigorous studying.

*A little help please*

I took this from Christina's blog (8 hours of studying a day has made me lazy, what can I say).

HERE is my cousin's blog, where I've just started an auction to help her husband, who is battling STAGE 4 brain cancer. I feel a little shameless doing this, but it's the only way I can help from 2,000 miles away. Visit. Read his story. Bid on something if you choose, or just pass the word for me.
http://bryonscrappycancer.blogspot.com/