Always a little awkward when....

....you go to the Jordan River temple and the guy doing confirmations asks why you aren't in school and you know (because you have the Spirit with you because you are in the temple after all) that he thinks you are a high schooler.

....and you also know that you can't just say, "I got a substitute," because then he'll just think you're a high schooler who saw that there was a substitute and decided to skip class.

....and you can't think of a subtle way to casually let him know that you are a teacher, so in the moment you throw all subtlety down the drain and just blurt out "I, uh, I'm a teacher, I left early, I have an interview."

....it is 10:00 in the morning and already 4 children in your class have cried.

....this note is in the nice notes box:

....and everyone denies having written it. (And also, it is eerily similar to the very first nice note you wrote to The Boy once upon a time last semester....)

....there are 8 girls at a table at B-Dubbs, surrounded by wings and big-screen TV's, and not one boy is there with them.

....and although it may look like a clever "go where the men are" kind of girls' night out, not one of those girls is there because she wants to get hit on, either.

....a box of crayons sets off an entire string of events that your team dubs "The Foot Saga."

....and said saga is still ongoing and you get the idea that it will continue until the end of the year.

....you go to Zumba and feel all excited about it and enjoy your time there, and then the next week when it's time to go again, someone has chest pains and someone else has no gas in their car and someone else has no motivation, so that's the end of that short-lived reign of fitness.

....boyfriends can't say anything without best friends knowing about it, and even if some quotes don't make it to the Man Board, they do make it into our normal conversations.

....some idiots come over to your apartment and interrupt The Bachelor because they are playing Bigger or Better and they are wondering if you have anything you would like to trade with them? And you can't even talk to them because, excuse me, it's The Bachelor.

....you see police lights as you come in your apartment and catch a glimpse of someone who you think you recognize and jump to the conclusion that your Relief Society president has been in a car accident, so you decide to bring her some cookies, but then as you walk over there, the police make you nervous, so you go to her apartment to make sure that it is in fact her....

....and some boys are walking away from her apartment carrying the front door??

....and you don't stop them.

....someone thinks that it is okay to lock a shopping cart to the stairs outside of your apartment and actually they are right, that is a little okay, but what is not okay is rattling it around at 2 in the morning when you are trying to go to sleep.

....you go in for a job interview and wonder if someone accidentally told the guy in charge of the interview that he was just there to interview himself, because truly you feel more like an audience member than a job applicant.

....you live in utah and all the cars like to remind you.

Lumberjacks

Some people put up fake Christmas trees. Some people put up real Christmas trees. I'm not saying that one is better than the other.....but let's be honest. Real Christmas trees are better than fake ones.

Some people buy real Christmas trees from a lot. Some people chop down their real Christmas tree. Again, I'm not saying that chopping down your own Christmas tree makes you better than other people. But it might. 

This weekend, Kailyn, Caitlin, the Jew, Erin and I ventured over to the far corners of Utah:

That's right. We went to Richfield, Utah.

One-stoplight-town, Farmville, home-on-the-range, we're-from-the-country-and-we-like-it-that-way, Richfield. We made a brief stop at this place:

"Are we going there someday?" "I don't know, you tell me...."

Once we were done there, nothing could stop us from getting to Kailyn's beautiful home! Except for the one stop sign in the town. We met her family, talked up one of our friends to make a good impression on Kailyn's family in his absence, and then took a nap, all of us piled on Kailyn's bed.

When we woke up, something was different. We didn't have facial hair or rough, callused hands, but an unmistakable change had taken place: our nap had turned us into lumberjacks.

There were about 8 trucks in the driveway - Kailyn's family believes in trucks - so we all climbed in and struck out for the mountains.  First, the trucks did the hiking. Eventually, we had to get out and do the rest of the hiking ourselves. K-Mom gave us one piece of advice: "When you bring the tree back to the truck, you'll want to carry it down the mountain, not up the mountain. So go uphill to find it."

Our tree was living in a little patch of ankle-deep snow when we found him. He smiled at us with his soft, sage-colored needles, and even though he was a little bit balding on one side, we felt in our hearts that he was our tree. (Or maybe it was just getting dark and we weren't sure how long it was going to take to chop him down or if we would be able to find another one if we left him.....)

Lumberjacks have riveting conversations while they chop. Here's what ours sounded like:

"Hold that pose, can you just wait there a second?" "Wait the lighting was weird! Take it again." "Why do I have an alien head?" "Now you two together. Smile!" "Are you still holding onto the tree? Because it's probably going to fall soon...." "Did you ever txt him back?" "Perfect! I love this one!" "Can that please not go on facebook?"

In case you couldn't tell, at least 3 of us were on our phones or cameras at any given time.

Sawing down the tree was one thing; getting it down the mountain was a whole 'nother task. A mother of a nother task. Gravity swung on by to help us, but it still took all of our Kailyn and Caitlin and Erin's strength and muscles to bring it to Kailyn's brothers. Then it took about 1/18th of their strength to hoist it off the ground and carry it on their shoulders to the truck.

So what did I learn from all this?

Sometimes, boys are like trees. And you have to climb a mountain to find one that you like. And sometimes, he is a little bit balding on one side, or his needles are a little poiky, or he's stuck in the spot where you found him, on account of his roots or whatever.

Sometimes, you need your friends to help you saw down the tree that you want. Wing-girls are so necessary.

Sometimes, you kind of love the tree the moment you see it. But then you still have to cut it down and find a way to get it back to your apartment.

Sometimes, trees look a lot taller when they are laying in the snow than they do when they are standing in the snow. Sometimes, you notice the same thing about boys.

Sometimes, you see all these people coming down the mountain with their trees, and you think how easy it must have been for them to just pluck their tree from the side of the road. But sometimes you're wrong, because probably they didn't pluck their tree or their boy from the side of the road, and probably they had to go through the same process that you did.

Sometimes, there's a tree that really freakin' wants to be your tree, but he takes his sweet time coming down the mountain and puts up such a fuss about it that you almost leave him there on the dead log that he's hanging onto. But then you don't, because he really is the most beautiful tree you've ever seen, and besides that he is really good company, and you like it when he txts you and comes over and even when he eats your food, so whatever. You'll drag him down the mountain even if it kills annoys you, because let's be honest: the chances that he'll end up flying off the truck on the way back to Provo are looking pretty slim, and you honestly believe that one day he will look beautiful, all decked out in lights and ornaments and popcorn in your apartment, and you'll forget about the sap and the splinters and the bruises, and it will all be worth your stupid day month as a lumberjack.

Here we are putting up our beautiful Teddy:

Cute bum, where ya from?

And here he is, all lit up and beautiful:

An Attitude of Gratitude

Of course, I am thankful for all the typical things: family, friends, food, the gospel, America, etc. Here's what I am thankful for besides those things:

- roommates who understand that my love languages are food and good parking spots

- boys who have 8-packs

- the Park City outlets

- that the one time I ran into an ex, he didn't know about it

- .....and he looked bad anyways

- 4-hour naps on Sunday - these are so essential to my happiness



- my sisters and their blogs

- the Draper temple

It is beautiful inside, seriously beautiful.

- that one time my mom dropped Crisco on Nicole's foot

- that other time when Nicole said, all nurturingly, "Jacob. When I was your age, I had e-coli." And Jacob replied, "What? Whose poop did you eat?"

- that time when Julie was squinting at the menu at Disney World and this employee came along and kindly handed her a menu in Spanish

- all the times when we have started singing at the table, quietly, and then Nicole has joined in, a little louder, so the rest of us have stopped singing, and my dad has looked up from his meal and gotten upset at Nicole

- the mental image I have in my head of Nicole in seminary

- Antoine Dodson....I know this was like 2 years ago but I still want to thank that guy for the hours of entertainment he has provided me with

- that I know how to make frittatas, lemon glaze, meatballs, parmesan broccoli, paper snowflakes, Hootenanny pancakes, and a plethora of other things

- that my roommates can make even more things

- that I don't have a unibrow

- Cassidy Jane Carbaby

- that one time when my dad started singing about a lemon tree at the dinner table

- that one of my students came in on Friday and gave me a piece of paper with a note that said: "Miss Connor you are the best teacher thanks for being my teacher see you after school!" and had a purple jolly rancher taped to it

- Owen Wilson

I don't know what it is, but I love him. And I am indeed thankful for him. 

TO DO

Off-track is a funny thing. I have three weeks of vacation that no one else has. So, while everyone else is still going about, living their lives and fulfilling their obligations like normal, I am living my life and fulfilling all.....zero of my obligations.

But a life of idleness can be just as exhausting as a life of industriousness, and is much less satisfying. So in order to guarantee my own satisfaction, I have been putting together TO DO lists (I am obsessed with these, so it's really nothing new....) for each day. I'm checking stuff off like a BOSS. Here's today's TO DO list, in case you were wanting to sit in awe of my gumption:

TO DO

- go to the temple with roommates
- make some more punkin seeds
- get from the kitchen to my bed without touching the floor
- practice piano
- download Taylor's new songs
- be nice to Shannon
- organize boots and coats
- grade some shtuff
- figure out my Halloween costume for Friday
- maybe do some step-aerobics if I can find something that will work as a step
- eat some muffins
- set up visiting teaching
- shower
- put on makeup
- go to a concert? with free hot chocolate and free henna tattoos??
- blog
- go to the dolla theater and watch a 3D movie in order to get some 3D glasses
- floss
- buy milk, eggs, bread, laundry detergent, and sugar
- make a TO DO list for tomorrow

I think that a person's strength of character really shows through when they do things that they don't have to do. Here are some of the things I don't have to do that I have already done at some point during this off-track anyway:

- wake up before 10
- wear pants
- floss my teeth
- memorize "Good Feeling" by Flo Rida (actually I'm still working on this)
- listen to Taylor's new album
- about 24 times
- go to class with Caitlin
- go to class with Christine
- grow out my bangs
- make the most bomb amazing punkin seeds of history

Yep. Based on this list, I think my character is pretty strong.

"Eventually!" Freaks Yelp

The whole week at EFY is super spiritchal, but Thursday is the spiritchal day. *Note: I do know how to spell spiritual, but because of this lady, I always think it's funner to spell it like "spiritchal."*

Anyway, Thursday was full of wonderful things. We went to classes, had a "Living Christ" activity, and learned about what a testimony is. I think my favorite class was Brother Huso's. The Husos the session-directing couple and I want to be just like them when I grow up. 

They are the quintessential Mormon couple; she is tan, blonde, and teeny, he's tan, muscular, and kind-smiley. They both have perfect teeth and do things like hold hands in the hall and fall asleep on each other during the variety show. He runs Iron Man competitions and is a high school principal, seminary teacher, bishop, and swimming enthusiast. She stays at home with their 5 (obviously beautiful) kids, runs marathons, and is an adorable session director's wife. I could go on. 

This is the Husos with one of my girls :)

So as I was saying about Brother Huso's class: on Wednesday, he came around and asked all the counselors what their group needed to hear, and what he should talk about. He started off by showing our answers, and almost every single counselor said something about how their girls needed to know that they are beautiful and awesome and have self-worth and blablabla. 

Then he showed a picture of the Mesa, Arizona temple. 

"So, we're from Arizona," he said. "And this is our temple. And I hate our temple." There were a few gasps and some nervous laughter. "Look at it," he went on. "It's so dumb. Who designed that? It's all boxy...." He clicked to the next slide.

"At least we don't have to go to the Provo temple though. I mean, is this temple a joke? It looks like a cupcake. And that steeple.  I don't know what the designers were thinking." Click.

"I wish I was from San Diego," he sighed. "They have a beautiful temple. Look at it. It looks like a castle. Wooooow. Now that is a temple." Click.

"Salt Lake has a pretty temple, too," he continued. "People come from all over to see this temple. No one comes from all over to see - " clickclickclick " - this temple."

He turned to the girls. "How many of you wanted to punch me when I was talking about my Arizona temple that way?" Lots of girls laughed and raised their hands. "Good!" he said. "How do you think Heavenly Father feels when you talk about yourselves that way? What do you think God cares about more: bricks, or flesh and blood?" 

During this class, he also shared txts that he had the boys send in with a message that they wanted to give to the girls. Most of them consisted of the words "You don't know you're beautiful!" (very original) or "You are beautiful daughters of God!" 

But one or two said things like, "Sarah, this is Jake, and you're my COW! Here's my number. Txt me!"

And you know I teased Counselor Sarah about that. 

Thursday was also Variety Show Day. My group had the final act and it was awe-some! If you are my friend on facebook, I thinkkk you can see it with this link.

If not, I'm sorry. Trust me that it was awesome. And know that I didn't learn the dance, since every time they practiced it was when I was doing variety show tryouts, but I got really excited when they were doing it, so I just danced along in the back. And I reminded myself of Regina George's mom. 

  

Friday was also full of wonderful things. Such as.....

Finishing our morning devotional and opening the door to see this sign (above) that the boys in my company made for my girls. All together now: awwwwww :)

Hanging out with my broder. Who is so spiritchal and awesome and taller than me?? Yeah I'm still trying to get over that one. 

Taking pictures as a company. This is me with the boys who made that wonderful sign, and shared their soda, and asked me to interpret their dreams every mealtime. 

Being secretly photographed every time Dalin and I sat next to each other. 

Or planned Devotional together. 

Or walked around together. 

Or ate together. 

Sometimes the pictures were taken through the leaves of potted plants.

Dalin often begged my girls to take more pictures of us together. He was loving the attention. 

And thus ended a wonderful week in Cincinnati.

Friendship

Sometimes, friendship means making late-night runs to the grocery store and winding up at the hospital cafe. Where you wind up playing Bingo with the staff. And then you end up winning Bingo, and it ends up being a great night.

Sometimes, it means listening for 20 minutes instead of hanging up when your friend accidentally butt-dials (or booty-calls, whichever you prefer to call it) you. Which sometimes turns into you recording the conversation she has with herself in her car. Which sometimes winds up on your Facebook.

Sometimes, it means going to Little Caesar's for your second dinner in one night.

Sometimes, it means that you are suddenly overcome with the need to eat said second dinner anywhere but at the table. 

Sometimes, it means eating toast and jam for dinner with your roommate and bonding by talking about boys.

Sometimes, friendship is falling asleep on a couch in an apartment that is not your own 3+ days a week. Sometimes, friendship is spending more time at this apartment than the actual residents spend there. 

Sometimes, friendship means that you talk about your feelings a LOT. You also talk about how you're feeling about how you're feeling. 

  

And sometimes, friendship means Temple Tuesdays. At 6 in the morning. Which means I have to be getting to bed in like, negative five hours. 

All I'm saying is, I am super lucky to have the friends that I have :) 

Inner Turmoil

is so fun.

You know what else is so fun? (And by that I mean, you know what actually is fun...)

-Pong Night

-learning French

-working at Coldstone again

-laying out at the pool with Caitlin

-Temple Tuesdays with Rachel

-getting my toes done by Bana

-free food

-indecent news

-gojane.com

-trampolines

-Baachi

-rodeos

In conclusion, SUMMER is fun. I'm just a summer girl :)

(Side note: if you make that song into a pandora station, and you are anything like me, you will be a happy person.)