Writers Block

For the past four days I've been trying to write a blog post about how I feel. And I have three drafts in my posts all about the same thing. You. And I can't post them. Because they suck. And because you give me writers block.

You give me writers block because all I can think about is you and I don't know how to put that into words. 

All I ever want to do is be around you and hug you. And just talk the day away with you. We can talk about Star Wars or the past relationships we've had. Or we can talk about how amazing the one we have right now is. Because it is. Because we are practically the same person. And we love all the same stuff, and that's wonderful, but the exciting part to me is all the new stuff that we'll discover we love together. I know that if we do that, we won't ever get bored with each other. Even if we are the same.

I want to watch every single movie on our list. Every single movie musical, every single comedy, drama, tragedy, whatever it is. I don't care about the movies. I care about YOU sitting next to me watching the movie.

I want to go on long drives and hold hands with you on those drives because that's my favorite thing to do. I want to Skype you and text and snapchat and all that stuff. AND I WANT TO WRITE BLOG POSTS ABOUT YOU. But you give me writers block. And you leave me speechless. Typeless. Whatever.

You're amazing. Oops. I wrote that. 

And I want to play video games with you. Does that make me trash? Maybe. But YOU haven't picked up an Xbox controller in five years and I need someone to play Lego Star Wars with. You can be Obi-Wan. 

You make my heart and my mouth go a million miles an hour because I can't help it. You fascinate me and you turn me on (in the most non-creepy way possible) and you make me feel different feelings than any of those other girls I used to date. All the ones that hurt me and made me super afraid to even talk to you. But boy am I glad that I put on my big boy pants and grew some balls so I could have the courage to talk to you. I will be forever grateful for H&M and that blue dress. Forever.

I will be forever grateful to Japanese food and Sushi. And I will be forever grateful to the Book of Genesis in the Bible. I will be forever grateful to FitBits for running out of battery and public high school concerts that happen in the gym. And I'm forever grateful to In N Out shakes for being thick. And I will be forever grateful to blue hearts for being the best thing in my life right now. And I will be forever grateful to you. You amazing, funny, sweet, caring, gentle, beautiful person. 

Well, there it is. The blog post that's been waiting four days to happen. And I know you're reading this. So, hi. You're really cute and beautiful and I like you a lot. So here's to you. And here's to us. And here's to writers block.

My Little Lea

Hi, my name is Ardon Smith. And if you know me, or even if you've read my blog, one of the things you know about me is that when I become a father I want to have a girl. My wife could tell me she wants to have a million kids (please no) and if that's what she wanted she would have my consent and every right to name all of them and do whatever, but I want to  have the privilege to name our first girl. Whether she's the oldest, the middle, or comes last, the one thing I want to ask of my wife is to be able to name our girl. And I want her name to be Lea Marie Smith.

A lot of people ask me why I want a girl so bad. And it's not because I have the perfect name or because I'm in theater and I hang around girls all the time or because I don't have a brother and I grew up in a house filled with girls. It's not that.

I want to have a little girl so that the first time I hold her I'll know that she'll be one of the most important girls in my life forever.

I want to have a little girl so that the first time she gets a nightmare, she can sleep right next to her daddy and feel safe in my arms.

I want to have a little girl so that whenever I come home, she can get a big smile on her face and say "Daddy's home!"

I want to have a little girl so that when she falls and scrapes her knee, she can come to daddy knowing that he'll make everything okay.

I want to have a little girl so that on the first day of kindergarten I can hold her hand and walk her to school. 

I want to have a little girl so that when she asks me "Am I a princess?" I can say "Yes, you're a princess." 

I want to have a little girl so that when gets old enough to go to middle school, she'll start to put on make up and I'll tell her "You don't need that." And she'll shrug me off and apply it anyway, but she'll know I meant it with all of my heart.

I want to have a little girl so that when she talks to her mom about boys I can get a headache.

I want to have a little girl so that when she brings her boyfriend to the house I can get sick to my stomach and really nervous. 

I want to have a little girl so we can get into fights over nothing and then cry and hug it out later.

I want to have a little girl so her mom can hate me for secretly spoiling our daughter behind her back.

I want to have a little girl so that when she is about to leave the house for Prom I can think "They grow up so fast."

I want to have a little girl so that when she leaves the house, I can hug her and pretend that I won't cry the whole time but as soon as she leaves, my wife will have to buy me 10 boxes of tissues.

I want to have a little girl so that when she graduates college I can say "That's my daughter."

I want to have a little girl because when she gets married, she'll be the most beautiful woman on the planet.

I want to have a little girl so that when she has a little girl, she'll know what it's like to love someone that much.

I want to have a little girl because she'll always be my little girl. 

The Night I Danced With a Paraplegic

Here's something you might not know about me...

I hate school dances.

I don't hate them because I hate dancing or because I hate big smelly rooms full of high school kids trying to grind on each other. NO. It's not that.

(Actually it is that.)

But I got the opportunity to go to a school dance one day! It was so long ago that I'm surprised I remember. It was way back when.

It was last week.

Anyways, it was a girl's choice dance, so I got asked by this really nice, fun, and pretty girl. She asked me in that Utah way where you have to ask someone in this elaborate way. I'm sorry, but why is that a thing? Can't we all just nervously go up to someone and say "Um... Can you... Maybe... If you wanted... There's this thing... Where you go into... A... Gym and just... Uh... Dance?"

Where have our roots gone?


So, anyways, we went to dinner (which was way nice and fun) and then we drove over to the dance. Oh, by the way, our driver almost killed us.

Can I just say that I need to exercise more? I danced through a song and I almost died afterwards. ONE GODDAMN SONG and I was already out for the count!

But anyways, we were at the dance, and I started to slowly realize that this would not be like any other dance I had ever been to. The thing was, my date couldn't dance... Or walk.

Well, she could, but she was in a wheelchair for the dance. She got surgery on her legs or something like that, and I remember her telling me that "The reason I'm walking like this is because I just barely got surgery." And I replied "Well, are going to be able to dance at the school dance this week?" And she said "Oh crap! I totally forgot about that!"

I felt two things when she told me that.

1. YESSSSS I DONT HAVE TO DANCE AT THE DANCE! I hate dancing. Not that I don't love BIG SMELLY ROOMS FULL OF HIGH SCHOOL KIDS TRYING TO GRIND ON EACH OTHER. No, it's not that, but school dances have just never been my strong suit.

2. Aww man. This really kind of sucks. She's a great dancer and I don't want her to miss out! She may not be able to walk now, but when she can dance, she can bust a move!

Regardless, we went to the dance and we asked for a wheelchair. The school principal was more than happy to help, and we were graciously accommodated. 

So we're just dancing to Lady Gaga or One Direction or something (every other song), and we're having a great time. Then "I Wont Give Up" comes on, and that song is pretty much the epitome of songs you slow dance to. 

There was a moment where we both thought "Well what are we going to do about this?" 

My first impulse was just to grab her hands and step side to side. So I did that, but... Then I realized something. Even though she had no real strength to dance with her legs, she danced harder and had a lot more fun than half the people at the dance. Even though she was in pain every time someone bumped into her legs, or every time she walked after her surgery, she still found a way to put a beautiful smile on her face. I was so grateful to experience this, because it really made me believe that people who had REAL strength existed. That made me really happy.

The fact that half the people there gave her a lap dance was really funny too. 

Thanks again,

-Bennett