A nomad

I ever wonder if I am always just writing about the same thing. 

Girls. That's what I spend the majority of my time thinking and talking about, when not working or at school (And even then, I still think and talk about them). Obsessed? Probably. A good thing? Maybe. 

It's like this never-ending quest to find someone to love, someone to trust, someone to take care of. The ultimate best friend, who I want to spend every moment with. 

Who is she? What is she like? I ask myself that very consistently. Sometimes I feel like a scientist conducting an experiment with new specimens that I fancy as they cross their path. But the tricky part, is they have feelings and thoughts too. It is a two-way street, although the initial decision is really up to me if I want to drive down that street. And then what happens if you want to change the sceneary, or you're not a fan of the city? Leave, find a new one.

I feel like the nomad who wanders, trying to find a home, a place I can actually want to settle down. I'm tired of getting bored of cities after two weeks... it gets old. The good news, is that I am learning a lot about the type of city I want to help build. 

The Universal Zone

So there's this weird thing called the friend zone. For whatever reason, girls that I have become really good friends with, that I can pretty much talk with about anything, are just friends, and probably will always just be friends. I think it has something to do with expectation, safety, and comfort. Sometimes I think these are the girls I am best suited to know, care for, and love, yet, it's a strange relationship that takes a lot of mutual effort to change. Mutual effort that I often think both sides don't want to risk in the event that love doesn't blossom, and you lose a friend.

We trust what's safe, yet we want what's dangerous. It's dangerous to share everything about yourself with someone new that you're interested in, or someone old that you're interested in again, because you don't want to be rejected. Because when you are rejected, (yes, everyone is rejected at some point or another, and if not, I hope that you are so you can learn something about relationships), there's a choice you can make. Take it personal by not wanting to share as much next time, and be a little more cautious, or accept it as an opportunity to open another door.

I've always thought I'm about opening new doors, but at times I've realized I'm tired of all the doors I've tried to open, that have been locked, or closed on me. Truth be told, it's often felt like they keep getting closed. Now this is the victim inside of me feeling this way, but it's an honest, true, feeling. How hard could it be to find a door that I would love to go in, and the person inside the room would love me to join them? In theory it's completely simple, but in reality, epics, ballads, stories, and wars have been fought over this notion, this idea of love, of finding your soul mate.

Now there's always the discussion "there are lots of people you can marry out there" which I agree with to a point. But, I found someone once, who changed my universe. It was as if every star, planet, and galaxy came together and made it possible for love to happen. Then life happened, and things changed, and the universe went back to its normal self, waiting again for the opportunity for the cosmos to change for two people to come together. I know it'll happen again one day, and it will be completely new, refreshed, and even more epic then the last time.... it always is.

So in this way, I continue to come up with new theories, to try new keys to lock new doors, and for the sake of the universe upheaving itself and turning inside out, for my sake, I will be ok. I'll keep knocking, I'll keep walking, and I'll keep walking into new rooms, until one day, I find a person to share it with.

The Bad Boy Experiment

For some reason, it always seems like girls like the bad boy type. The dark, mysterious, troubled, super hot guy, who ends up either being the biggest jerk in the world, or the nicest guy. When you talk to girls though, they always talk about how they want the guy who will support them, love them, be kind to them, bla bla bla bla bla. Conclusion: Women don't know what they want!

Well, since that's not any new news (we've all known that for the duration of mankind), I'll share my bad boy experiment, and how it kind of failed.

What do Tom Cruise, James Bond, and Will Smith have in common? They all rode motorcycles once upon a time, and it made them that much hotter. So what do I decide to do (mind you this was coming for a few years thanks to the big bro), get myself a motorcycle.

After driving by a group of girls I know in a suit and tie on my bike, I got ranted and raved over. Success? I thought so. I came in the next night, asked my friends Emma and Carmen if I was rising in my bad boy points, and casually they answered, "Phil, you'll never be a bad boy."

Fail.

Dear (codename) Muriel

So it's been a while since my last post - took a sabbatical from blogging (my last 3 posts took a lot of effort, let's be honest). This blog is dedicated to my good friend, (codename) Muriel.

Before I begin, I want to clarify. Code names are the greatest thing in the world. Most women of interest or potential interest in my life have received a code name, often with the help of friends or my brother. These code names allow the open conversation about these people in public, without anyone truly knowing the identity. It is a common practice between my friends and I, and I think many people can relate. Some code names include:

The Ice Princess
The Mockingbird
Coheed and Cambria
The Professional

And the list goes on, and on.

But there's one code name, that I have learned recently. Her name is Muriel (Muriel's real code name has been slightly altered for sake of anomisty - I don't want anyone finding out Muriel's secret by revealing her true code name). Let me tell you about Muriel... and what I've learned about life from Muriel.

Muriel has a secret identity, if I told you it, I would have to kill you, but I probably wouldn't have the chance, because Muriel might just get to me first. I met Muriel when I was 18 years old, within the first week or two at BYU, and we've always had an interesting relationship. Sometimes, I wonder if Muriel is the female version of me (with slight personality and quality differences - she's a much better person than I am myself)... which has proved to create an interesting friendship, to say the least. After my mission, I took Muriel on a date or two, but I was previously attached to another person at the time being. My potential romantic history/future (remember, potential being the word) isn't the point of this blog however... and no Muriel, (yes she will be reading this), this is not an undying confession of my love for you. Sorry.

I thought I knew Muriel however, until one day, she let slip that she had a blog under a secret identity. Her secret identity, being Muriel of course, was a way for her to blog about the events in her life, her many escapades with boys (trust me there are many, many, many stories), her obsession with key historic figures in our nation's evolution, amongst other uplifting and entertaining things. To say the least, I feel like I have read Muriel's diary, and frankly, it's made me realize something.

Muriel, I don't know if we could ever be. (Ok so maybe this did have a romantic flavor). I wear skinny jeans, cuff my pants above the ankles, am growing my hair out, I get mushy pretty fast, don't play rugby, don't really fish anymore, and I don't wear baseball hats.

BUT - I often am told I have a resemblance to Peter Pan, I don't ever want to grow up, and I do have this obsession with heights, tree forts, and going on adventures. So Muriel, this one's for you!