Kindness

I recently came across this crumpled piece of paper as I shuffled through a box of old memories.  It was a copy of a monologue that I performed for the middle school and my high school during my senior year.  I stood up in front of that 200 some odd people and said,
"You know what I think has gotten devalued in the twenty-first century? Kindness.  It's sort of gotten to be a second-rate virtue.  You know how people who don't think you're pretty will always tell you you have nice hair?  Now they say what a "kind" person you are and then they never call back for a second date.  So I started asking people if anything nice had happened to them this week and everything they mentioned was a form of kindess, you know, somebody picking up something they dropped or walking them to a place they were trying to find or taking the trouble to return a lost item or incorrectly addressed piece of mail, and I though, everybody loves it, they've just forgotten its name.  So I started applauding.  Whenever I would see a kindess done I would start applauding and when people asked why I would tell them, and this guy I applauded had a drive-time radio show and he put me on and the next day I saw someone else applaud and then someone else and then there was a bumpersticker, 'Applaud Kindness,' and about a month later this older man applauded and then everyone else on the street did too and this guy who had stopped his car so this lady could push a stroller across got out of the car and bowed.  It was fantastic.  So anyway I don't know why I brought this up, it's old news by now...but it was really nice of you to listen all the way through. [applaud]"


Everybody loves it, they've just forgotten its name.

Things to Say

Goodbyes are hard.  Mostly because at that moment you feel the need to say something, profound, important, memorable.  But some things are hard to say, and how do you fit into to one potentially final moment everything that you feel, everything that you've ever wanted to say, anything that you haven't? At that very pivotal moment, with those words at the very tip of my tongue, I suddenly feel vulnerable, and I've caught my breath and left things unsaid.
So, this is everything I should have said:
I should have said goodbye.
I should have told you how much you mean to me.
I should have said, I'm sorry.
I should have told you that I love having you as a best friend, love the way you make my laugh, and let me be me.
I should have told you how happy I am for you.
I should have said, don't marry her.
I should have told you that you put my life into perspective and helped me see the world differently.
I should have told you that you taught me so much.
I should have told you how proud I am of you.
I should have told you how much you hurt me.
I should have told you that you made me feel safe.
I should have told you I would have stayed if you asked me to.
I should have told you that I trust you.
I should have told you that I admire you and everything that you do.
I should have told you that you inspired me to be better.
I should have told you that you helped me out of one of my lowest moments, I don't think you even know.
I should have told you that I appreciate you.
I should have said, thank you. for everything.
I should have told you I wasn't fine.
I should have told you I miss you, how much I'm going to miss you.
I should have looked you in the eye and said, I love you because you changed my life.

Freshman Antics

BYU is tearing down Heritage Halls (Freshman housing).  The rubble-making started about a year ago.  Next in line is building 8. Penrose Hall.  A very special place that a small group of girls picked for no particular reason at all.  I picked it because it sounded the pretties, Penrose, why not?  And it was right near the middle.  Little did I know, with such reasoning, that this would be the place.  This would be the place that would change my life forever.  It became the place where I grew up as I sometimes acted like a little kid, the place where I claimed independence while learning to sometimes lean on other people.  Here, I met my best friend(s). Here, I have the fondest memories, and some of my worst.
So we all met up at that special place, spent one last hurrah! before, after three years, we go our separate ways, and this place can only be kept inside of us, preserved by too many albums on facebook.  We drove through the parking lot where we would have dance parties in the bed of a Truck.  Walked along the sidewalk which we decorated with chalk.  We reenacted roommate pictures outside with an updated wardrobe.  We entered the lobby where we "weren't allowed to have dance parties or watch movies", and went out on the balcony where we would release our craziness.  I remember 1 song dance parties in the middle of late-night study sessions.  There was the hallways that we filled with out mattresses on Friday nights, the walls covered in butcher paper and favorite quotes.  Our first discovery was the panic cupboard, I ended up there on the first day.  Our true bonding experience was a death-march to Albertson's, we only walked a few miles in the wrong direction, and took the short way home.  We had shopping sprees at the mall at the end of every semester, and sometimes in the middle when we were sad at boys.  I remembered the spot where my first college boyfriend kissed me.  That year we were in the middle of a prank war, and found a belt in the middle of a cake.  There was the grass where we always brought our food, pot and all and had a picnic on warm Spring afternoons, where we devoured Creamery shakes, played soccer, jammed on the guitar, laid out under the stars, rolled up as a burrito.  I remembered family dinners every night, and after dinner left overs for our seventh roommate.  Every week was planned family meeting on Sunday night and one day a week we floundered.  There was a little spot out back where the water would collect when it rained, it formed a small lake which I jumped over one night with someone else.  And our back steps were covered in brownie, one time we forgot the eggs and ended up throwing the dessert at each other instead of eating them.  At the end of the hall we had a giant family clock, at one point I was on a date for at least a week.  Through the kitchen window we posted messages, asked to borrow rice cookers and wished happy holidays.  Through the kitchen window we could see right into the guys apartments; they always kept their blinds down.  One week we rearranged the furniture and made a "big bed" to have one giant slumber party, I stayed up until 3 am smiling about potentials.  We shared a back door with our neighbors, soon enough we had 12 roommates and a heart attack one February morning.  We instated Easter Mexican Fiestas.  It was the year that Shaun White won the Olympic gold medal before he even took his last run.  We all wore different colored chucks, matching plaid, and ski goggles when we cooked.  Our bedroom doors locked, and sometimes we got locked out.  My roommate and I would have adventures late at night, trying different beauty products, facials, nail polish, hair dye.  One incident went amiss and someone's hair ended up orange, so naturally, we all dressed in orange, ate only orange food, and threw a party; there was more orange than cones in the construction zone.  We used to get all dressed up and go out, after cheering at every single home football game.  Somedays I went to the Creamery more than once, more than twice, more than three times... My roommate and I covered our walls, and built a giraffe army.  We had "funky jello" in our fridge for an entire semester.  We screamed aaaaaaaahhhhhhh at the end of every word.  Every inch of the place was tainted with memories, and it all came chaotically back, in certain spots, snippets, still frames, faces, moments, ideas, songs, jokes, quotes, and laughs.
Walking around that place watching all of my memories, it seemed so far away, and I felt so big;  I guess I've done a lot of growing since then.  And now life moves even further on, even further away, but Here was a good starting place, a place that sent me in the right direction.

proportionality.

Sometimes all you need is to stand on the edge of a large body of water and just feel, small.  Sometimes you need a lot more than that.  Perhaps the Great Salt Lake isn't big enough.

"Everything is AMAZING, and nobody is happy"

They say that living in Provo, UT is like being inside of a bubble.  That's not really a good thing, seeing as we aren't talking about soap bubbles or bubble gum, but it's a bubble nonetheless, a very small suffocating bubble, one that I quite often find myself enclosed in, and I can't quite remember how long I've felt trapped.  But when I come to this realization, notice my complacent captivity in this mythical sphere of fake blondes, misperceived perfection, and deceiving superficiality, I have to make a dramatic escape.  It took me an hour and a half to travel from Salt Lake City, Utah to Oakland, California; that's it, a cat nap (in honor of my roommates infatuation for cats) and a few chapters in my book and I had traveled out of this bubble and into a surreal weekend.  Sometimes I don't feel like I'm really living my own life, sometimes it takes me a moment to take a breath and realize that everything around me IS amazing and that I should be happy.  That realization makes me smile because I am happy.  And sometimes one just needs to step out of their bubble, take a little vacation, and see that their is life outside of Provo.
And when I did this, I found myself in a whole different world.  I found myself in the middle of a brand new city to explore and found myself in love with it.  I found myself in a car full of hipsters listening to European electronica.  I found myself taking a deep breath of crisp and humid ocean air after splashing through frigid waves.  I found myself laughing, uncontrollably at everything.  I found myself watching a movie about super heros.  I found myself sitting out under the stars with a best friend, talking about everything and anything.  I found myself comfortable, relaxed, happy.  And then I found myself back in Provo, back in the bubble, back to work, back to reality.  But it's nice to realize every once in a while that even living in a bubble, even sometimes letting myself be content in that bubble, I'm not stuck.

Everyday.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, "do one thing everyday that scares you".  Yesterday, I squashed two spiders so I could get in the shower without them.  I think that was just about enough terror for the week.

Change, but not useless pennies.

There came a moment, sometime in the past few weeks when everything in my life changed.
It all started one night as I sat in the middle of my bedroom floor.  I was the eye of a perfect storm of pictures, clothes, books, accumulated junk and all that lay chaotically around me.  I looked at the mess around me, and focused on the last thing still left in place: the walls, the dreary cement blocks I had artistically, and not so tactfully, plastered with a collage of posters.  I had had my walls decorated with these pictures of famous boarders, gear ads, winter scenery, and neon quotes for the past three years.  Each year a little different, but still the same collection presented in the same way.  I examined closely how they were pasted crooked and overlapping one with another.  My first thought was about the patience it would require to carefully detangle the delegate sheets of paper for a third time, peeling away tape and sticky tack without tearing corners, or what was left of corners.  As I thought about that, I found myself in the middle of a much larger dilemma than the mess of just packing, should I take everything down carefully with the intention of putting them back up, or should I tear everything down and start again fresh.  And as I mulled this over in my mind, I couldn't make a decision.  Then I realized this really had nothing to do with the posters, this was about how my life was about to be dumped upside down.
That's when all this change started:
I took all those posters off of the wall, and didn't put them back up again.
I moved into a new apartment.  Different place, same kind of idea.  With roommates I didn't know.
I'm sharing a room with someone different, my first new roommate since my very first day at BYU.  (I mean, why would you move if you lived with your best friend?)
I'm no longer taking classes, just working full time.  I can't remember the last time I didn't have homework.
I wake up at 6:50 every morning.  That's never happened before.
I have a new job, and a new set of coworkers.
I have free time in the afternoons.
I'm blogging (okay, that's not really different anymore)
I painted my toenails Times Square Tangerine.
I'm learning to cook and successfully added two new dishes to my repertoire this week.
I'm reading a book, just because I can.
I write in a journal.
I wore pants yesterday. all day.
That's just the beginning, I know everything's going to be changing a whole lot more soon.  I'm going to have a different wardrobe, different roommate, going to be speaking a different language and living in a different country.  After all of this, I am going to be a very different person...

mistakes.

Don't go back and try to take chances you missed in the past.   They were opportunities that aren't there anymore.  They were choices you'd already chosen  They were the mistakes you didn't make.

Waiting.

One year ago, I was waiting for a name tag.  Waiting to see, in a matter of months, counted down by weeks, a little black name tag engraved with Elder on it.  I spent each day in suspense of that name tag coming off, because I was waiting for who I thought was my best friend, my better half, a guy that I thought wasn't anything like anyone else I had ever met.  When the moment came, it wasn't at all what I expected, wasn't at all what I thought it would be
I didn't expect to find myself, a year later, again waiting for a name tag.  But this time, the name tag is mine, a little black plastic square reading Sestra Compare.  And this time, I'm waiting for that name tag to go on.  And when the moment comes, it probably won't be anything like I think it will, but that's to be expected.

"But I can only tell you through a song..."

"But I can only tell you through a song..."
These are little snippets to songs that I love, lyrics that have hit me, encouraged me, expressed exactly how I felt at the moment I listened to them.  Because I don't know how to say it, and these songs just said it best.  Each of them hold a very close memory for me, a vivid moment in my life.  10 points if you know the song, 10 giant hugs if you know the moment.


"How beautiful do I have to be?"


"East Coast feeling, stuck in my head"


"There's just nothing that I wouldn't do, to make you feel my love"


"I think I lost myself in your deep blue eyes"


"I'm getting into you, because you got to me in a way words can't describe"


"I would let you know, you cannot walk away, 'cause there are things left to say"


"We're so, so close, we're staring at it.  Please don't go...we'll make it happen...I'm staring at the only love I know"


"Ask me how do I feel"


"If I could gather up the nerve, I'd put my feelings into words"


"I'm in a foreign state, running late, I'm all alone, wishing I was home with you baby"


"When I arrived in my old set of clothes, I was half a world away from my home"


"My love's too big for you my love...if I were stronger I would tell you no, and if I were stronger than I would leave this show...but here I am, and here we go again"


"Through the rain and the snow, we're gonna make it"


"I'm only gonna break break your, break break your heart"


"You could be the hero, and I could be your sidekick"


"Baby you're pretty, but I'm pretty sure I'm over you"


"What should have been, could have been, a happy end"

"I came here with a load, and it feels so much lighter since I've met you"

"You make breaking hearts look so easy, seems like you've done this before"


"Just one more plane ride and it's done"


"Welcome back winter once again and put on your warm fuzzy sweater because you'll feel much better when snowflakes fall"


"When things went wrong, you always had a song that seemed to make things right"


"I was praying that you and me might end up together, it's like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert" 


"Don't worry about a thing, you know your path is true, just ease your mind, have a banana or two"


"Oh, you don't know what you're doing to me"


"my steeze is gonna be effected, if I keep it up like a love-sick crackhead"


"I would like to hold my little hand"


"Love is a luxury, I'd rather be in love than dead"


"someday you'll see there's a reason for everything, someday you'll see there's a reason for you and me"

Every Semester

Every semester should have at least one...

-inside joke used on a daily basis
-good movie night
-camping trip
-weekend get-a-away
-new promise
-big step
-learned song on the guitar
-bas case of butterflies
-all-night-er
-pure heart break
-new friend
-midnight adventure
-failed exam
-perfect paper
-long phone conversation
-plane ticket purchased
-life changing letter
-perfect powder day
-justified cry
-discovery of a new band
-awkward elephant
-new outfit
-concert
-grand adventure
-reconnection
-tearful goodbye
-package in the mail
-laugh attack
-rejuvenating run

and a whole lot of memories

Vulnerability

This woman inspires me; she may or may not have just changed my life.  

You should watch this:

I hate feeling vulnerable, it's one of the biggest struggles I have.  I'm afraid to open myself up, because when I am vulnerable, I shrink back into my shame, embarrassed of who I am.  You know the feeling: you said too much, you acted too honest and you shouldn't have done that.  But, we need that experience; we need to embrace our vulnerability because it is the essence of human connection.  Take a chance, take a risk, just to be yourself.  "All you need is 20 seconds of courage" Even if you get hurt.
I can't even tell you how directly applicable this message is to my life right now...

Joshua Radin Says It Best

I've been contemplating this idea for a little while now...and maybe such a post is perhaps inappropriate.  These are memories that I hold very dear to me, manifestations of how blessed I am, and how incredible the people around me are.  I'm completely spoiled by my friends, I don't deserve everything that they do for me.  Or maybe, I just don't want anyone to be jealous because their friends aren't as cool.
Sometimes I have bad days, sometimes I have good days that are just made a whole lot better.  Here are a few of my favorites:

I was having a really rough week, and my friend has invited me to go up and visit her in Salt Lake for the weekend; I just couldn't do it...I had too much homework and I was too stressed to let myself take the time off and leave everything behind.  She nagged me about my weekend plans ALL week, and I felt terrible! Friday night rolls around and my friend is still calling me trying to find me a ride up to SL.  I had just gotten back from climbing and I was making dinner when she calls me and abruptly hangs up after having me explain that I really can't come.  Two minutes later, another friend is at my door whisking me away on her Boda.  I'm thoroughly confused as to why my dinner is sitting untouched dinner on the kitchen table, and why I'm riding away from it on the back of a motorcycle.  But we end up at a taco shop, with friend number one waiting to surprise me.  She'd been scheming the kidnap all week and came down just because I was having a bad week.

I missed Free Cone Day; the best day of the year in Vermont, where Ben and Jerry's passes out free ice cream cones at their stores.  It's practically a holiday in Vermont, and everyone made it to Free Cone Day at least once in High School, even if it meant missing classes.  We would have teachers take us to Free Cone Day, no one could miss it! Teachers didn't want to miss it either.  Seeing everyone's Facebook statuses about Free Cone Day, made me a little nostalgic, and a little more homesick than normal.  I got home from my days adventures to a box marked special delivery! To: Clara, From: Vermont.  Inside were ice cream cones and little cartons of Ben and Jerry's.

One of my favorite songs for a rainy day is called "Sunshine" by Atmosphere.  If you can get past the interesting beginning, it's really the perfect happy-song.  My favorite line says, "If I could, I would keep this feeling in a plastic jar, bust it out whenever someone's acting hard"  look it up.  My friend brought me a plastic jar, with that line written on the top, and it full of little pieces of paper covered in just lovely little things.  It's brilliant.

Playing the guitar outside, I walked away from my tuner, phone and capo for 2 minutes.  I came back to a carton of Orange Juice covered in rose pedals.  Nothing says love like Orange Juice, and best friends.

My friends make my life beautiful, with cute little notes, surprises, kind acts, long laughs, midnight runs, hugs, and love.  They make me feel special, important, worth it.  And I know it's cliche, but I couldn't do it without them, I wouldn't be here.  My life wouldn't be the same without finding keys under my doormat, having someone's couch to crash on after a long day, yelling across the complex, and just plain being around people that make me comfortable enough to be myself.  So Kudos to you guys! and Thank You for making the world around you such a wonderful place.  You are more than I deserve, but someday I will maybe be as good a friend as you are.

I can tell a whole story without the word like...

I can tell a whole story without the word "like"
...it just might take me a very long time.

my WHOLE life

My friend (I feel like a lot of blog posts are inspired by said friend; she definitely inspires a lot of things in me.) asked me, "what's going best right now?" To which I responded, "MY WHOLE LIFE!"

I don't know if that is necessarily the whole truth. Oh, now a little more of the real story comes out... I've never before felt so overwhelmed with school work. With finals and the end of the semester looming in the not so distant future, I can't believe how many papers I need to write, papers I haven't even had time to think about. I feel like I'm failing all my classes, and I'm never quite sure what is going on. My life has become a whirlwind of absolute chaos. I have too much weighing on my mind, you'd think there wouldn't be anything to tip the scales.

And yet, I feel so at peace. At peace with my life and my decisions. I've never felt so happy before. And this calmness hasn't come from a lack of opposition in my life, oh we all know there is plenty of that, but it's a stillness in the the eye of the storm. I'm content with where everything seems to be going. And I can't stop smiling about the little things in life: still finding a key under my doormat every morning, having a carton of Orange Juice in the fridge, finishing a paper before I crawl into bed, being able to breath through both my nostrils and laugh without feeling like I'm going to lose a lung, catching up with old friends, not putting any make up on in the morning, the first day without pain, a renewal of hope, running again, and eating dinner. I mean, life doesn't get much better than that.

scuffed sneakers.

Everyone has something that they notice in other people.  Before you think that this going to get scandalous, let me assure you that, if I am checking you out, I'm looking at your shoes.
I think you can tell a lot about someone by the shoes that they wear, tell a lot about their personality.  You can tell how much of a tool they are and how hard they try.  I can pick out the boys whose mothers still dress them.  I see the whole range of athletic types, and those who wouldn't know a basketball if it hit them in the face.  I can tell who is adventurous, and who acts like they are.  Personalities definitely shine through shoes.  I know, I know, you think I'm judgmental.  But let me remind you that there is a difference between being judgmental and merely being observant. perceptive even.

But after analyzing the footwear of my fellow classmates, I took a look at my own feet, my torn up, two-toned grey vans and asked, what do these say about me?  Well my shoes show that I give into fads (I mean, vans were all the rage two years ago), but I don't stress about preserving the fresh-out-the-box look.  In fact, I hate it when my shoes look too new, means they haven't been broken in, don't embody my memories or my personality yet.  These shoes are a clear documentation of the last 2 years of my life: they have a little sand in the bottom from hiking in the desert, holes from trying to climb in them.  They were once water-logged from getting caught in the canyon when a violent thunderstorm hit and it started pouring.  I've made them match almost every outfit I've ever worn (some more coordinated than others).  I've worn them on dates, worn them to class; I've taken them all the way home with me and back again.  I guess I hold on to the past, perhaps a little bit too much, and keep memories in the strangest of objects.

They say you shouldn't judge someone until you've walked a mile in their shoes.  Well judge me all you want because I'm not giving you my shoes. I like my shoes, like the way they fit around toes, perfectly broken in.  I even like the road that they are carrying me on.  So I'm going to wear my worn out shoes, keep collecting memories in them, and keep running forward.

Can you remember the things you have done in your shoes?  All the places they've taken you?

THIS IS BETTER THAN CAMPING!!

"...actually Clara, this is camping..."

I'm pretty sure this trip was worth it...

...after listening to Rusted Root on the highway passing through Spanish Fork.
...after embarrassing stories...
...after telling a whole story without the word "like" -20 minutes later-

...after snacking on crackers and cheese.

...after standing on the edge of a cliff in the pitch dark, imagining how incredible the view is suppose to be.
...after having a cuddle puddle in the middle of a deserted gas station's parking lot.

...after finding firewood in the middle of the desert.
...after determining what's figurative and what's literal.
...after going to the bathroom behind tumble weed.

...after a colorful variety of conversation topics because talking about anything becomes socially acceptable when camping.

...after rolling out a sleeping bag under the stars.
...after a contagious fit of laughter over a great idea.
...after switching sleeping bags.

...after squeezing through a slot canyon.

...after rolling down a sand dune.

...after packing for a vacation...

...after getting lost in the middle of the afternoon.
...after asking repeatedly, "who's winning?"

...after walking across an arch.
...after realizing that it doesn't matter what we do, as long as we do something naked.
...after learning that "roommate" is only one word.

...after having a panic attack in an underground cave.

...after being covered in glowstick goo.

...after befriending an elephant.

a trip that resulted in a malfunctioning camera and a album of priceless photos.

Sometimes it's good to just give yourself a vacation, call it a Spring Break. Turn off your cell phone, breathe some fresh air, and experience the world around you.
It was better than camping.

Elephants and Peanuts.

The best way to coax an elephant out of the room: peanuts. I mean there's no sense in soffocating under such a large animal. Unless the elephant sits and eats your snack, then he'll just get fatter.

Perfect TIme

After months of the constant inner turmoil of decision making, pressured by ex boyfriends, inspired by best friends, and being jealous of freshman, I did it. I decided. I decided that I wanted to serve as a full time missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I decided I wanted to share a name tag with JESUS CHRIST, to bear my testimony and I wasn't planning on doing this for anyone else but Him. I thought long and hard about my decision, prayed everyday. I literally cried, "what do you want me to do?!" and I feel like Heavenly Father lovingly chuckled at me and answered, "you get to chose my child". And so I chose. Sometimes we make choices in our lives. Sometimes we make sacrifices for the things that mean the most to us, not because we have to, not because we should, not because we feel obligated to, but because we want to. So I will sacrifice myself for a year and a half, sacrifice a summer job, being here for all my buddies' homecoming, calling my family on a regular basis, listening to my favorite bands, snowboarding, rock climbing, playing sports. I will give up any opportunity that I might have had, because I know that He’s not going to let me miss anything that I’m suppose to have. I will not be deprived of blessings or experiences because I’ve decided to go serve a mission.

I wasn't quite sure how it was all going to work out, but I moved forward anyways. I started getting up at 7 am, crawling out of my bed with my blankets wrapped around me, finding a key under my doormat, shuffling next door in my moccasins to read scriptures with Cecilly. I went to the doctors too many times in two weeks, disclosed all personal information from blisters on my feet to my proficiency in the French language, and then turned my future over my Bishop, Stake President, the Quorum of the 12, and the Lord. Cecilly and I held hands through the entire process (figuratively, not literally because we all know she won't let me hold her hand). But we took each step together; talked through every uncertainty and all the excitement. Wednesday February 8, 2012 we each met with the Stake President and officially submitted our mission papers. Two weeks later, early afternoon, I was at work when Cecilly g-chatted me. "Clara" she said, "it's here". I panicked!! I had 2 hours left in my shift, and I was dying. If Cecilly's call had come, I was certain mine would be there too. I rushed home after work. I would have run, but everyone knows that running with a backpack is awkward. Cecilly met me on the way and escorted me to my mailbox. My hand was shaking as I turned the key. I could barely catch my breath, and I felt sick to my stomach. I slowly opened the door to find...nothing. Just Macey ads …and more macey ads?

With one more week on the horizon, and possibly more, I cursed the doubts I had of not being ready. But that week gave me the chance to watch the beautiful moment when my best friend opened her call, that moment I wouldn’t have traded for anything. Even among the hooting and hollering of the slightly chaotic and excited crowd of spectators, the Spirit was so strong, and I think everyone in that room felt what I felt; felt how right it was and how much of an incredible missionary that girl is going to be. I think about how much she has changed my life in this past year and a half. Now she’s on to the next year and a half, and I think about the remarkable change she will continue to influence, in my life and in the lives of the Honduran people.

Luckily, I only had one more week of suspense. The next Wednesday afternoon turned into a stake out by the mailbox (until I fell asleep on Cecilly couch that is…) I was exhausted because I may or may not have chased a few mail men down the street. Testing my patience, the mail didn’t arrive until after five, but I was certain today was the day. Infamous white envelope in hand, I threw my toothbrush in my backpack and we took off in a storm. My heart was racing, and I don’t remember anything but the smile and squeals, and for a moment I couldn’t breathe.

Half way up to Heber I realized, I FORGOT TO CALL MY MOTHER! And I frantically dialed before I hit the dead-zone in the canyon. No answer. Cecilly and I laughed at the irony, only the most important moment of my life right now and my mother was AWOL.

I finally got her on speaker-phone, placed my envelope next to the phone on the table, my second family surrounding me. My fingers shook as tore the envelope open. I slipped out the papers, and quickly places my hands over the words. Revealing one line at a time, my voice caught in my throat as I read, “Dear Sister Compare, You are hereby called to serve as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the…” I stopped and stared at the next word, almost unsure of how to pronounce it. “Adriatic North Mission” WHAT?! like the Adriatic Sea, Cecilly whispered.

“It is anticipated that you will serve for a period of 18 months. You should report to the Provo Missionary Training Center on Wednesday, July 18, 2012. You will prepare to preach the gospel in the Croatian language.” I didn’t stop, I just kept on reading, reading that I would be an official representative of the Church, that my purpose was to invite others to come unto Christ, and I would be blessed with more happiness than I have yet received if I served with all my heart, might, and strength. And finally, “Sincerely, Thomas S. Monson”. I couldn’t imagine being happier than I was at that instant.

It was the most surreal moment of my life. And that might be the only way to describe it, because it still doesn’t feel real. I had pictured myself all over the world, thought South America was more than likely, Africa was unrealistic, Kansas City was my best guess, and I had braced myself for Japanese, but no one ever guessed Europe. And in that moment that it was found out that I was going to Eastern Europe, the automatic response was, “wow, that is perfect for you”. And it’s true, although the last place I ever would have thought of, I know with every fiber of my heart that that is exactly where the Lord wants me.

The Adriatic North Mission, including Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia & Herzegovina, and Serbia, isn’t one you hear everyday, and so we immediately gathered around the computer and typed it into the Google search bar. The second entry on the page was this: http://ldschurchgrowth.blogspot.com/2012/02/mission-realignment-in-southeastern.html

I was speechless when I read it. Just that week prior, that week when I was disappointedly shutting my mailbox and wondering whyyyyyyyy whyyyyy why do I have to wait longer?!?! The Elder of the Church were busy realigning Eastern Europe and created The Adriatic North and South Missions. Three new countries were opened: Bosnia & Herzegovina, Montenegro, and Macedonia, and at that point the entire European continent was now open to the Church. I still don’t know what to say, I still get chills when I think about the timing of it all.

And so here is to timing, because nothing in my life has ever worked out just as I planned it would, and yet everything has happened at the perfect time, as long as I look at it with the right perspective. Never again will I doubt the Lord’s plan for me, and never again will I question his timing. I’m not even going to question the fact that I have to wait until July 18^th to leave when my availability was May 1^st. There is a reason that I am here for another 5 months. I couldn’t be more excited about my mission, I couldn’t be happier about my decision to serve, but I’m not going to check out early. If the Lord wants me here for another 5 months, then I will be here for another 5 months.

February 14th

Being single on Valentines Day has been socially dubbed as "pathetic". Another year, and yes, I'm single on Valentines Day. Now, your picturing me home alone in my apartment, in sweats, eating cookie dough straight up with my tub of ice cream, box of chocolates I bought myself, watching chick flicks and quietly crying to myself in my humiliation. false.

I'm more than happy to be single on Valentines day. I've actually never felt happier. Even without a boyfriend, it still looks like cupid threw up in my bedroom; balloons, flowers, chocolates, candies, stuffed animals, cards, not much room for anything else with all that love in there. But even besides all the people that bought into the Hallmark Valentines day, I am proud to be single. Being single doesn't make me feel incomplete or inadequate. Instead, I am single because I stood up for myself when I wasn't treated right. I am strong and independent (as cheesy as that sounds right now). I value myself to not settle for anything less than what I deserve; I believe I do deserve more than that how I've been treated in the past. and that's something to celebrate too.

Valentines Day is really just about love. Love from a significant other, love from family, love from friends, love from roommates, love from yourself. So buy candies, cards, and flowers and tell all those people in your life how much you love them, just don't forget to say "I love you" on the other 364 days.

Motives.

I'm a nerd. Which you can't tell by looking at my transcripts, because straight B's does not equal nerd, and you don't have to be a math major to figure that one out. I'm a nerd because I laugh while reading my text books, I get ahead of my homework when I see a major test in the near future, I get excited when I learn how to send print jobs from my personal computer because it makes me feel tech-savvy, I joyfully check things off my to-do list, and discuss the most recent response paper I wrote as I jog home from the gym. Yep, I have nerd written all over me. I even blog in the evenings- and if that doesn't say nerd, I don't know what does. just kidding. I love to learn, and I love that everything I learn makes me a better person, and who would have thought? Who would have thought that I would find the answer to my life problems and perhaps an answer to my prayers in my Political Science class! Of the many Poli Sci classes I am in, I love my U.S. Foreign Policy. This is what I learned this week:

We are in the middle of studying morality, yes in terms of war. Can war ever be moral? Can it be justified? We learned a lot of different theories about morality, from realism, skepticism and state moralism, to idealism, pacifism and just war theory. We then began to analyze the first Persian Gulf War. Without getting into too much of a controversial debate here or taking sides, the professor posed the question, was the war just? Did the U.S. government justify their motives for going into the war? Yes, the United States believed, more or less, according to Just War Theory, it was justified in fighting in Iraq, that it had a moral cause. It was then pointed out that the U.S. was also very economically interested in the area, as Kuwait is a major oil producer, and the U.S. was motived by that too. True. But does that negate the moral justification for entering the war? Could the U.S. be motived by both moral and personal reasons? Exactly, sometimes it's impossible to separate motives. It wasn't until two hours after class that it hit me how powerful this realization was. Let's step away from the Iraq war controversy and learn that mixed motives are still moral. So that means, maybe we have more than one reason for doing something, one is selfless and one is personally beneficial; perhaps there's even more than two. What do you do in that situation? You do it. It's not wrong to have more than one motive. Maybe having one sometimes just isn't enough. Now, stop questioning yourself; you'll know if you're doing it for the wrong reasons.

Midnight Rambles

They say you learn something new everyday. Well...I don't know about everyday single day, but I've been learning a lot of things lately.

I learned that my blood type is O+ which makes me a "universal donor". Why? Because there are 4 types of blood. A, B, AB, and O. Type A blood contains anti-bodies to type B. Type B blood contains anti-bodies to type A. Type O blood has antibodies for both A and B. AB doesn't have anti-bodies for type A or type B, making people with type AB blood, "universal recipients. Interesting huh? Although I have no idea what the positive and negative sign means.

I also learned that the security document which implemented U.S. military build up during the Cold War, which lead to the militarization of the Cold War was entitled NSC-68, not 86. And simultaneously learned that I might be slightly dyslexic.

I learned that pasts are inescapable. We may move on from them, learn from them, grow from them, heal from them, even go as far as almost forgetting them. Your past will never let you completely forget it. But, they will always be there. They will always have an effect on you- for better or for worse. Maybe that's all a lesson I've learned in acceptance. Things are the way they are, so I need to learn to appreciate the growth and healing and no longer be afraid.

I learned that there is opposition in all things. Whether it be cars broken down on the side of the road, miscommunications, pains, cancellations, lost mail, or just uncertainty. The things that are the most important and that mean the most are the hardest sometimes to obtain. But if you can smile through the opposition, if you can jump through the extra hoops, even if a little less gracefully, ultimately nothing can stop you.

I learned from my political philosophy class that, ‎"Everything can't submit to reason, not everything has to. Sometimes just being right is reason enough" and I totally agree. Some people call me illogical. They tell me that my reasoning doesn't make sense. Well, sometimes I don't need to follow reason, because I follow my heart.

I learned that my body actually does need sleep, and that it takes over a week to recover from staying up until 4:30 in the morning.

I learned that people come and go all the time. Their significance in your story may not depend on the amount of time they spend with you. Everyone comes in to your life for a reason, and sometimes once they've made their impact, once they've taught you what you needed to know, changed you into what you needed to be, they leave. I still struggle with understanding why they always have to leave, but I am forever grateful for them having been there.

I also learned that we all really just need to say how we feel and what we're thinking. If you keep it all in, no one is ever going to know. Communication is everything. Honestly and honesty.

I learned that sometimes we have to take the first step before we'll find out if we're stepping in the right direction.

Charity.

Charity...

is love.

is redeeming.

is relieving the oppressed.

is pleading for others.

is giving to the poor.

is giving what you have.

is motivation.

is caring.

is loving even your enemies.

is kind

edifieth.

suffereth long.

is persuasion.

can be put on.

is pure religion.

is undefiled.

comes with a pure heart.

abideth with faith and hope.

is brotherly kindness.

is something all me should have.

is succoring those in need.

needs to be remembered.

is everlasting.

is filling.

saves.

is helping others.

is lifting other's burdens.

is righteousness.

come from the Holy Ghost.

is humility.

is temperance.

is meekness.

is gentleness.

is genuine.

is the pure love of Christ.

small world

They say it's a small world.

But you'd think that on a campus of over 30,000 students, it would be easier to avoid someone.

Moments.

Life is best expressed in moments. I couldn't even begin to tell you about the last few weeks, but here are a few of my favorite moments.

So in busy intersections in New York City they have police officers directing traffic and pedestrians. At one point this woman starts crossing the street at the wrong time and the cop yells, "LADY DO YOU WANNA BE A HOOD ORNAMENT?!" She quickly turned around and the whole corner started laughing.

"World Peace" cookies.

I was at my Gramma's house early one Sunday morning to pick her up for Church. I walk into her house just after my mother and hear my Gramma saying, "and I fried him an egg for breakfast..." I'm assuming here that she's talking about my older brother, who should also be up and getting ready, until I hear my Gramma continue, "and then I thought that he probably doesn't like his dog food, so I made him some toast too, out of that bread that I made yesterday". My bad, she was referring to our dog. That is one spoiled puppy, friend eggs and home made toast for breakfast!

I went up to see the Christmas lights in South Royalton with a friend. We stood on the doorstep of the house where Joseph Smith was born, and took a moment to marvel at the incredible thing that started in that very spot.

I was working on a bouldering problem at the climbing gym and I kept falling off. This guy calls over, "hey, you're suppose to grab that next hold!" and winks. thanks...

Again, my Gramma coddling my spoiled puppy, "I bet he's hungry, he hasn't eaten anything since his Wheaties this morning"

I was curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a huge comforter and sitting in front of a little space heater reading. My cat crawls over my open book, squeezes onto my lap, flips the book closed, pushes it off my lap, and then begins to purr.

I saw voids where buildings used to be, foundations that were gone, walls collapsed, trees dismantled and toppled, roads cracked, a lot of bits of my old life washed away.

Zappos does free, overnight shipping.

While staying with family, I turned into the guest bedroom for the night. The first thing I noticed was a framed picture of me, holding my two little cousins.

I got up really early one morning to bring my mom to work, and I enjoyed the beautiful orange sunrise all along Rt. 4.

Overheard at a family dinner, "I know it smells like bacon, but don't eat it. it's dog food". I love bacon.

I finished Jesus the Christ.

I went for a run along the Long Island Sound with my Uncle. (to make up for the bacon)

Christmas morning my mom dragged me out of my bed and into her room. Still half asleep I curl up on her bed, but she shakes me awake and says look! look outside, it's a storybook Christmas morning. Big fluffy snowflakes were slowly fluttering around. She was all excited, "that's nice mom, but I don't have my glasses on, I can't see anything".

Sliding along the deck under a dusting of snow. more fun than socks on the kitchen floor.

My Gramma bought my dog a new type of dog food (to see if he likes that better, although of course the dog doesn't eat dog food when he's served fried eggs for breakfast!) "it's organic!" she exclaimed, as if the dog cared about eating organic food. She turned to my mom, "Well wait until Herschel comes up, he likes organic things." I had to intervene, "Okay Gram, you can't feed my mom's boyfriend dog food."

For Christmas Eve dinner we had tacos. Nothing says love like tacos. and family. It was just me, my mom and two of my big brothers. We played Boggle, opened presents and I got one quick picture with the boys in front of the Christmas tree. That might not sound like much to you, but that's my whole world.

Ben and Jerry's posted on Facebook, "Need a date for New Years?"

I went out with a few old friends, dinner and bowling. It's embarrassing how bad I am at bowling, but we had two minutes left on our paid hour, and two more frames to bowl. Just as I was about to go, my friends made me laugh so hard I dropped my bowling ball. Uncontrollably laughing, and barely managed to push my ball down the ally. STRIKE! haha It was one of those, you had to be there moments.

My Gramma's ultimate reason for going and doing anything is, "you never know! you might meet the man of your dreams there!" (girl, if she's talking to my brother). I can't count the number of times she's used this on me, and I've tried an array of rebuttals, but she'll never have it. Finally, she used that line on me, "you never know! you might meet the man of your dreams there!" and I quickly countered, "Gram, what if I've already met the man of my dreams??" She was speechless, "well..." and had nothing left to say.

My mom reprimanded me, "so what?! a little glitter makes the world sparklier!"

That all equals "home for the holidays"

Here's to 2011

It wouldn't be New Years without a little past-year reflection. 2011 was quite a year, maybe not the best year of my life thus far, but a pretty good one nonetheless. How could I sum up such a year in a mere blog post. Well I'm a Vermonter, and Vermonters are survivors, of darkness, long winters, and one devastating hurricane. and 2011 was a year of survival.

I survived a long wait.

I survived year-round school.

I survived two bitter-sweet goodbyes.

I survived the worst break up. ever.

I survived asking for and receiving help.

I survived rejection.

I survived political science 200

I survived sharing my deepest secret.

I survived growth and change.

I survived healing.

I survived a new beginning.

and I came out on the other side, better, stronger, wiser because of it all.

Getting Ready

I don't like packing. Mostly because it's time consuming, and because it makes you very aware of everything you have and everything you didn't actually need.

BESTfriends

People say that I throw around the label "best friend" too casually. Some people only have one best friend, some people have too many. It all depends on how you define the term.

Sometimes your best friend is the person that you call when you are in tears, and they hang on the other line and wait for the sobs to subside so you can tell them what is wrong.

Sometimes your best friend is the person you see everyday, tell all your ordinary stories too, the person you delight with the littlest moments of your existence.

Sometimes your best friend is the person you trust, the person who you tell all your secrets to, knowing that they will listen, unjudgingly, and still love you.

Sometimes your best friend is fuzzy, and spotted, and gives you the most enthusiastic greeting you've ever received.

Sometimes your best friend is the person that has always been there, no matter where you are.

Sometimes your best friend is someone who you share something special with, something that no one else understands.

Sometimes your best friend is the person who never changes, the person with whom it seems, no matter how long it's been since you've seen or talked to each other, you are capable of picking right back up where you left off like not a day has gone by.

Sometimes your best friend doesn't consider you their best friend.

Look at all the ways I define best friends, of course I have more than one best friend. Having more than one "best" friend doesn't devalue the honor. Consider yourself lucky to be one of my best friends. It means I respect you, admire you, trust you, love you, more than I could ever tell you, and that's why I add a "best" to our friendship.

But here's the thing. Sometimes, your best friend is the person that breaks your heart to lose.