How delightful

Sometimes, at random points in my day, I will feel bursts of excitement, for no reason in particular. I hope you know what I'm talking about...when you feel just thrilled to be where you are, to be so unalterably you, whatever the circumstances.

Here are some things that make me feel like this more often than not:

1. Popsicles. I don't know what it is about them, but popsicles can make my day instantly better. They are so delicious and not even really bad for you. I get one every time I take a test and now, I actually look forward to going to the testing center because of them.

2. Letters. I usually feel a little sick when I'm walking to the mailbox, because I am disappointed more often than not :( But on those days that I actually do see my name on an envelope casually leaning against the wall in my mailbox, I get so happyy. I can't stop smiling and I usually can't wait until I get back to my apartment to open my letter.

3. Walking through campus. Today I had one of these moments when I was walking from the back of the library to the front of the library. I realized I was walking among amazing people, and I got goosebumps at the thought that I was allowed to be in this place that I love so much.

4. Kisses. I think kissing is fantastic. I don't do it very often, because I'm really picky about who I kiss. Like, reallyy picky. But maybe that's why I like it so much; I've never had a bad experience with kissing.

5. The Cougar fight song. Last night the Cougars took on the San Diego Aztecs in basketball, and I was in attendance. I had heard it would be a really intense game and I was not disappointed. Usually I think of human sacrifices when I think of Aztecs, but our boys were far from being sacrificed. Final score? .....Not sure. BYU scored 80 points, so I got cake. And that's what is really important. Anyway, every time we sang the fight song, I just felt this huge sense of pride. I'm here, I'm in college, I'm a cougar, and I'm sO happy about it :)

6. Motorcycles. Ever since I was little, I have LOVED motorcycles. When I see a boy on a motorcycle, he is instantly 5x cuter than I might otherwise think he was. Wrapping my arms around one of those boys and zooming off through traffic gives me such a high. And when I get off the motorcycle after my ride, I have to consciously hold myself back from kissing the boy. It's embarrassing. We won't even be dating, I won't even like him, and for some reason I have to actually remind myself of this so I can stand up straight.

7. Giving blood. Last time I got so excited that I had to come back 2 days later because my heart rate was too high. That's how much I love giving blood.

8. Pickles. I am seldom happier than when I am eating a really good pickle. I get one every Wednesday at the Blue Line Deli and in those moments when I am eating it, all my problems disappear.

Of course, there are other things that make me feel happy, content, or pleasantly surprised. I love talking to my parents on the phone. I enjoy working out. I'm pleased when I do well on a test. I used to like driving and singing along to the radio, when I had access to a car. I love holding babies when they're happy. I like getting new clothes. I think it's fun to get dressed up and go to dance parties. But these aren't the things that randomly thrill me, that make me so happy that I am myself. I guess it's the little things that really do that!

"Today you are you,
That is truer than true.
There is no one alive
That is you-er than you." ~Dr. Suess

Oh heyy, Heber.

This weekend was very eventful. On Friday, I went to the same pool party I went to last week. It was even more fun this time because Winnie, Kelly, Jackie, and Jackie's roommates all came too. Next week, we might have even more girls! The actual party was fun, but possibly the most memorable part happened while we were driving to the party. We got lost and pulled into a correctional facility to figure out where we were. The only thing I could think of in that parking lot was the trailer for that new Leonardo DiCaprio movie "Shutter Island," and I kept expecting him to jump up and stare at me through the car windows. In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have mentioned this in a car full of girls, but I did, and within seconds we were speeding out of the correctional facility.

On Saturday, I went to the Cougarette concert! It was a very last-minute thing and I'm lucky that everything worked out the way it did. Kelly told me that she was going to usher so she could get in and watch the concert for free. Since Victoria was performing, I had really wanted to go, but I hadn't gotten a ticket in time. Kelly said I could come, too, and in the end, it was me, Kelly, Sterling (who told her about the opportunity), my FHE brother Nate, my FHE husband Tor, and his girlfriend Brooke. Ushering was the easiest job in the world. We walked in, approached an authoritative-looking person, and were quickly given our responsibilities. My post was at the doors upstairs on the right. As soon as the lights went down, I closed the doors and joined the audience. Victoria did a great job and it was a really fun performance!

On Sunday, my roommates Chelsea and Crystal horribly abused me.

Today, I had the craziest day. I woke up at 8, did homework, ate breakfast, got ready for the day, and took the 11:12 bus to campus. Once there, I hurried to the testing center, looked over my New Testament notes for 10 minutes, and took my test. I got 100%!!! It was my first 100% in the testing center and it was so exhilarating that i took a picture on my phone :) I didn't have much time to revel in my accomplishment, though, because then I had to go to my humanities class. I had to run out of there to print off my English paper and go to my English class, and then I was heading to my D&C class. I had lunch with Kelly, Winnie, Danielle, and Kelsey at 3, but it wasn't very exciting because I was studying for my floral design test. I studied for an hour, and then it was back to the testing center. I swear I have taken more tests in the last two months than I took in the other3 semesters of my entire career as a college student combined. I don't really mind I guess, since every time I take a test I buy myself a black cherry-pomegranate Popsicle, but it is still kind of hard to keep up with all the tests. Because I am there so frequently, I just made Heber J. Grant a Facebook page and put myself in a relationship with him. Anyway, I was planning to take the 6:15 bus home, but the test was going so well that I finished in time to catch the 5:45 bus if I hurried. When I got home, I figured out some last-minute stuff for FHE and then went over to my husband's apt so we could all drive to the bishop's house together. In my ward, one Monday each month is for dinner at a member of the bishopric's house. They are always so delicious and fun, and this time was no exception! When we got home from that, I went to Tashi's birthday party and then finally got home for real.

I really don't mind being busy. I actually really like it when I can look back on a day and name a long list of things that I did in a span of just 24 hrs. It's encouraging and empowering.

However, I do mind being tired, so I'd better get to sleep.

Real quick shoutout to Julie and Jacob!!! Julie just turned 16 on Sunday, and Jacob just turned 11 on Friday. Julie is beautiful, kind, talented, funny, and really sweet. She is fun to talk to and fun to watch movies with. Her smile is infectious and I love being around her! Jacob is a darling boy. He will go out of his way to help people and is friends with everyone. He is clever, amiable, and pure-hearted. He never tries to hurt people and he is generous and thoughtful. I love both of them so much and I can't believe how olddd they are getting!

The Importance of Ratios

In my humanities class, we are learning about Ancient Greece. One of the things we learned is that their sculptures started out very mathematical. In fact, they had a particular ratio that they called the "golden ratio," because everything looked so good when based on this ratio of 5:3. I've actually heard about it in my humanities class, my floral design class, and my history of creativity class, so apparently it's kind of a big deal.

Here's a ratio that I like even moooore than 5:3.....40:7. That is the approximate ratio of boys to girls at a party I attended on Friday, and in my opinion, that is better than 5:3. Like no offense to Euclid....I'm just sayin'.

The party was a pool party that I heard about from Troy. Troy is one of the boys who sold pest control over the summer and one of my absolute favorites. He is from Montana and the very picture of a mountain man. At first we thought he was grouchy and unpleasant, but eventually we discovered that he is actually a giant teddy bear. All gruffness aside, Troy is a sweetheart, and I completely adore him. He is the one I will be calling if I run into any more LoveSac douchebags. (He is also the one who will be DJing at my wedding!)

To give you an idea how close Troy is with our family, he came to our house for Sunday dinner every week. He set me up on a date with one of his mission friends. He frequently has lunch with Kelly and I, now that we are all living in Provo, and makes an effort to keep in touch with the other siblings via facebook. Over the summer, his girlfriend, Heather, came out to visit him, and he brought her to meet us. Mhmm. We are important people in his life. We definitely approved of Heather. She is also a sweetheart and they are so good together.

Anyway. Two weeks ago, Troy called me and asked if I wanted to go to a pool party. I couldn't, but I thought it sounded fun. This week, he told Kelly and I that he would be picking us up at 8, and we didn't really have a choice....we were going to the pool party. It was hosted by a 39-year-old man who sold pest control and is now retired. He has a wife, one 4-yr-old daughter who is adorable, a poolhouse with a pool, hot tub, heated stone floors, and changing room, a Ferrari, a Viper, a Cobra motorcycle, some other car that was covered, an elevator, a theater, pool tables.....basically a perfect life. I think the only thing he doesn't have is hair, since he was bald. He has parties every Friday and just invites a bunch of college kids who might be interested in selling pest control for him over the summer. Well, I'm not interested in that. But I ammm interested in boys that are interested in that, so I was pumped out of my head for this party.

The party was very fun. There was a ton of pizza and soda, and a ton of boys. The lights in the pool house were turned down so no one could tell that I haven't been tan for months. I was planning on just sitting on the side of the pool and cheering for the cute boys playing basketball, but that dream was shattered when they started playing volleyball and I had to actually join in. I am terrible at volleyball, so I was concerned that everyone would regret asking me to join as soon as they realized my lack of skill, but I guess I forgot to take into account the whole ratio thing. Being one of only about 7 girls at this party, they were thrilled to have me. Whenever it was my turn to serve, I got at least 3 tries to send the ball over the net. If it came close, a boy in the front would benevolently tip it over, and play would continue normally. If it went over, I was enthusiastically applauded. Throughout the game, I was profusely praised for merely looking in the right direction. If I stood there stupidly while the ball came sailing right at my face, undoubtedly one of the boys would lunge in front of it, valiantly trying to save me. If this attempt failed, the boy would apologize for getting in my way when he should have just let me have it. From a totally objective standpoint, I was not the team's most valuable player. But based on how quickly the game of choice changed from volleyball to basketball after I left to sit in the hot tub, you might think I was. It all goes back to ratios.

There are going to be pool parties every Friday at 8, and if anyone following this blog wants to come with me to one of them, just let me know :)

Soliloquy

For my History of Creativity class, I had to write a soliloquy in the style of Shakespeare. It could be about love, university life, duty, or something else. I chose love :) We also had to include two words that we made up. I put the new words at the bottom of my soliloquy. Here's what I wrote:

Here

It’s so comfortable now, right here in his pocket
I’m snug and I’m warm right here in his palm
There’s a picture of him right here in my locket
I’m feeling excited, nervous, and calm.

Wrapped up in his arms, I can’t help but shiver

I shimmy and dance right here under his thumb
I see bursts of light but the moon is a sliver;
I’m happy and full from just one little crumb.

How quickly he thinks of these calliverbations

That all at once serve to excite me and soothe

And slow down my reckless heart’s quick palpitations –

My thoughts are all jumbled; his speech is so smooth.

If I could, I would stay right here in this bubble

I cannot be free if not trapped by his gaze.
I’m dizzy and breathless—I know that he’s trouble
But life makes so much sense in his beautiful haze.

Here with him I say things without even thinking

Words born in my heart still sound new to my ears

Each statement of love feels familiar as blinking
This continued amoralogue stifles my fears.

The sun in his smile is clouding my vision –

I’m all tangled up in his mystical art;
I cannot avoid this oncoming collision,
So I’ll pull up a chair for him, here in my heart.

Calliverbations = beautiful words, eloquence. (calli = beauty, verb = words)

Amoralogue = expressions of love. (amor = love, logue = speech)

I really wish I could play the guitar. I would put this to music and feel totally legit.

I should be studying for Humanities now.

But i can't. I can't look at another naked man. And they are all over the pages of my humanities book.

From the very first day of class, I have felt out of place. Why? Because when the first nude sculpture flashed up on the screen, not a single comment was made. There was a wiener staring at me and I was the only one feeling mildly anxious about it. There were no nervous titters, no awkwardly darting eyes. I was the only one who looked around to see how everyone else was handling this. And they were all handling it splendidly. Our teacher might as well have plastered a picture of a gourd on the screen for all the excitement it stirred up.

Since that time, I have seen countless depictions of male genitalia, Roman and Greek. I was not aware that this is what I was signing up for when I registered for Humanities 201 last November. I think I am the only one who has been a little bit fazed by this in my whole class. Am I just really immature? I never thought this was the case, but maybe it is. I am just not comfortable analyzing naked men and their junk for an arts credit.

Well that was refreshing. I'm going to actually study now.

Holy Mole-y!

My body hates my moles. For whatever reason, my skin has launched a full-frontal attack on these little guys. One by one, a white circle forms around my moles and they get smaller and lighter until they are completely gone without a trace. Sometimes, when people notice one of them, I say it's a hicky, because that's kind of what it looks like. Only, it's a lighter spot of skin rather than a darker spot of skin.

A mole on my neck was my body's first victim. I didn't think much of it....I've never been particularly fond of my moles. In fact, when I was younger I was glad that we weren't allowed to wear bikinis because I was so self-conscious of one particular mole right next to my belly button. It's not like it's abnormally shaped or hairy; it's just your average, run-of-the-mill brown splotch, but for whatever reason, I used to thank my lucky stars that belly shirts were no longer in style because of it. Anyway, I didn't mind when the mole on my neck disappeared forever. I still didn't mind when similar white circles had formed around four of my other moles and the process of erasing them from my skin had begun. I mean, they weren't doing anything to me. I wasn't suffering any funny side effects, so why should I care?

It was my parents who insisted that I see a dermatologist, anxiously expressing their concerns about cancer and gangrene all the way up until I was seated in the office of a friendly dermatologist with wide eyes and shiny pink lips and nails. I showed her my moles and answered her questions. Her diagnosis was quick and definitive: the moles were called halo moles, and there wasn't any problem with what they were doing. She explained that sometimes, when people have a really good immune system, their body just decides to attack and get rid of their moles. It's not a problem, really, and it is in no way related to cancer. She did say, however, that this happens to very few people, and the people who do get halo moles usually only get one. Sometimes a person will get two. I have five or six, and she said she had never seen or heard of anyone getting so many. She concluded that I must have a really hyperactive immune system. I was very pleased with this diagnosis.

And now we come to the point of this post. Why, if my immune system is so fantastic that it can take time out of its busy schedule to address such a minute cosmetic concern as my harmless little moles, can my body not fight a common cold?

Today I woke up at about 9:30 in the morning, which is fine, since I didn't have class until 12. Then I realized that I was coughing and snotting like an entire waiting room of a doctor's office and went back to sleep until about 3:30 this afternoon. It was a fitful sleep that I woke up from several times throughout the day, feeling disoriented, short of breath, and clammy. Hello? Why is getting rid of my moles a more pressing issue than this? I think my immune system does not actually have its priorities straight.

I think I should be better by tomorrow, at least better enough to go to school. I really hate being sick; I think it is a phenomenal waste of time, and you don't even look cute. There is one upside though that I just discovered: when I am sick, I turn into some sort of culinary genius. (Which is really too bad, because you probably shouldn't be handling other people's food when you're sick, since who wants your germs, anyway?) But today, I made a coddled egg without even realizing it. Yeah. Maybe I am disproportionately proud of this, but "coddled egg" just sounds so domestic to me.