I could really use a wish right now.....

Today I got on an airplane and left the state of Utah, not to return for the next 6 months. I'm actually shocked that made it on the airplane in the first place. Here's a kind of summary of my trip:

Last night, about 9:30: I finally decide to start packing. It was incredibly daunting, since I won't be coming back until June, so I basically had to pack my entire life. I don't know how, but I somehow managed to pack 120 lbs of absolute necessities into two suitcases, another 35 lbs in my carry-on bag, and probably another 15 lbs in backpack that I didn't weigh. The rest of my stuff fit nicely into 6 boxes that I am leaving in Utah. I am seriously confused about where I got so much stuff and how I ever fit all of it under my bed.

Dear stuff,

Where did you come from? Why have you chosen to attach yourself to me so insistently? Please get out of my life. ......Oh no wait, don't go! I might need you someday!

Love,

Heather

Today, 8:00 am: Wake up so I can be ready to leave at 8:30. My flight was at 12:40, but I wanted to visit Jake's family before I had to leave.

9:30 am: Kelly and Dahl pick me up and we drive to Lindon.

9:50 am: We arrive at Jake's house and get to visit for a little bit. Halli made us pancakes, which was so nice, especially since I hadn't eaten breakfast yet. Dahl took the car to get the oil changed, since it was making a weird sound and he didn't want to have to replace the engine.

10:40 am: We say goodbye to the Crafts and head towards the airport.

10:45 am: Dad txts me to ask if I am at the airport. I say no, we are just leaving Lindon. He says that we better hurry, since my flight is at 12:05.

10:46 am: Panic.

10:47 am: Feel better because there is literally no traffic. We are making excellent time!

11:15 am: See the signs for the airport. Rejoice that the traffic has been so spectacular.

11:16 am: Pull into the drop off area. Drive past the Southwest drop off because every car in the state of Utah is parked there. Pull up to Jet Blue's drop off and get out of the car. Dahl helps me get my suitcases out and we run inside.

11:17 am: Walk past a huge line. Feel sorry for the people that have to wait in it. Walk past bag check stations for two other airlines and come to Southwest's bag check station. Realize with a sinking feeling that this line is your line.

Dear all the residents of Utah,

Why did you decide to fly at the exact same time and on the exact same airline as me? Our schedules can never be this similar again. Let's coordinate a little better next time.

Yours,

Heather

11:19 Accidentally say a bad word. Quickly wonder if anyone heard and look around for people who might be judging me. Realize that I have bigger problems. Feel panicky.

11:20 The following conversation ensues:

Dahl: This is your line. You have to get in line with someone.

Me: But....I don't know anyone in this line!

Dahl: You have to flirt with someone. Here....flirt with these boys and get in line with them.

Me: What!? No, I can't do that.

Dahl: You have to. You'll miss your flight if you don't.

Me: Maybe we can ask a security guard.....

Dahl: They won't help. Talk to these boys. Look, go flirt with them.

Me: I can't, I can't! What about him? Can I flirt with him? (I pointed to a kind of insecure looking boy in a hat, thinking he would not be brave enough to send me unsympathetically to the back of the line. Dahl was wanting me to flirt with some college boys who were wearing ski hats and looked way more confident. Dahl shook his head and pointed me back to the skiers.)

Dahl: I gotta go Heather. Give me a hug.

Me: Wait....Dahl where are you going?

Dahl: I have to go trade places with Kelly so she can come say goodbye to you.

Me: What....what do I say?

Dahl: Just ask what time their flight is. You can do it.

Me: I can't!

Dahl: See you later, Heather.

Me: Ok....okaaaay byyyye, thanks Dahl.

And then he walked off, leaving me with three suitcases, a backpack, and a rapidly sinking heart.

I made eye contact with one of the boys. "What time is your guys flight?" I asked. I felt awful about what I was doing and right after asking this question, my face spasmed into a worried expression.

Dear self,

Please learn how to flirt in a more carefree manner. And on that note,

Dear face,

Please do not spasm when I am trying to flirt to accomplish a purpose.

Sincerely,

Heather

"Uhhh, ours is at.....12:35? Yeah. 12:35."

"Ohhh," I said, looking at the clock.

"What time is yours?" he asked.

"12:05," I said. My face involuntarily spasmed again.

"Ooooh," both of the boys said together.

"Mine too!" said the lady standing behind them. "Are you going to Denver?"

"No, I'm going to Baltimore," I said. Then, talking to the skier again, I said, "Do you think I could like....get in line with you guys? Is that okay?"

He looked around and then said, "If no one sees, sure," and scooted up in line, smiling.

I think I almost started crying, I was so relieved. I grabbed my suitcases and scooted in right behind him.

11:30 am: Kelly comes in and sees me in the line. "Whoa, how did you get so far in line??" she asked loudly. I could feel a million eyes belonging to people I had just butted turn to look at me. I cleared my throat and said, "Hi Kelly. Do you want to come stand by me?" She nodded, considering the line. "Okay. But that's crazy, how did you get there so fast?" Pulling her in line with me, I quickly explained that the really nice boys in front of me just let me get in line with them. I tried to talk loudly enough so the boys in front of me would know how much I appreciated them, without anyone behind me hearing and getting mad.

Dear people behind me,

I'm sorry I butted you. I know that you had flights to make, too, and I should have gotten to the airport sooner. Thank you thank you thank you for being so nice and understanding! (Or just for keeping your annoyance to yourself.) It was awfully Christmas spirity of you.

All my gratitude,

Heather

11:32 am: Kelly leaves me in the line. I don't want to talk about it.

Dear sister,

Ytb! Ily s m f. Ty f b m t t ap t m!

Love,

Heather

11:35 am: I make it to the front of the line! A nice flight lady with a Christmas sweater helps me print off my boarding pass and weighs my bags. One bag is 63 lbs, and the other is 57. I ask if I can just be charged for one bag being overweight, but she says no, I have to put 7 lbs from the smaller bag into the heavier one. I start switching things around.

11:40 am: I have two suitcases, one that is 69 lbs and one that is 51. The Southwest worker winks at me and says that is fine. I pay for the extra weight and take one of my bags over to the little conveyor belt where you leave your bags with the security officers.

11:41 am: Take my second bag to the same place. Look around for the skiers so I can kiss them, and feel a little sad when I don't see them.

Dear skier boys,

You saved my life today! I would never have made my flight if it were not for you. Thank you for being so nice even when my face spasmed twice in our conversation. If you ever see me again, I owe you.

Gratefully,

Heather

11:43 am: Get in the mile-long line for security. Realize that there is no one I can butt this time. Panic. Txt Dad saying I am going to miss my flight. Almost flip out when the girl in front of me is met by her boyfriend and they start making out and he is not cute enough for her. Realize that I am being irrational. Suddenly get bombarded by 4 txts from Dad, who is also freaking out.

11:47 am: Get ready to send my things through the scanners. Take off my coat and boots and take my laptop out of my backpack. Feel sick because my flight is surely boarding right at this minute.

11:50 am: Get to the front of the security line. Throw everything in the plastic bins and run to the scanner. Look a little over-eager when I jump in the scanner.

11:51 am: A security guard lady asks me if I have anything in my pockets to hold it in my hands. I pull out my cards and hold them in one hand. I remember my bobby pins in my other pocket and pull them out too. The security guard remembers that she forgot to re-calibrate her machine. I have to step out while she pushes some buttons.

11:52 am: The machine is ready! I jump back in and get scanned. The security guard asks me to wait on a mat until she gets confirmation that I am not a terrorist. I stand on the mat, kind of dancing around.

Dear people who are concerned about TSA full-body scans,

I would just like to re-direct your energy to the outrageous lines at the airport. This is a real problem that is of greater concern to me than the full-body scanners.

Cordially,

Heather

11:55 am: I am cleared and allowed off the mat. I throw on my coat, shove my feet into my boots, grab my backpack and my rolling carry-on bag and start towards the escalator.

11:56 am: I run back to the table for my laptop, which I accidentally left.

11:57 am: Kelly calls me. I abruptly end the call as I run towards my gate, B22.

Dear Gate B22,

I really think you and Security need to make up and move back to being closer to one another. This long-distance relationship isn't working. I know I'm just a third party, not really involved in the relationship, but did you know that there are 2 escalators and 21 terminals between you two? Please work on fixing this, because it has started to affect other people who want to see both of you at the same time.

Respectfully,

Heather

11:58 am: Run past gates B1-B10.

11:59 am: Run past a Santa Claus taking pictures with a huge crowd of people. Feel annoyed that everyone in the crowd seems to want to get in your way.

12:00 noon: Keep running. Panic.

12:01: Consider stopping off at another one of the gates to ask a worker to call my gate and tell them that I am on my way and to please wait for me. Decide that there is no time for that. Keep running.

12:02: Wonder why I had to go up an escalator if now I am just going down one to get to my terminal.

12:04: Somehow arrive at gate B22. See that the door is open still. Wonder if I may have actually made it. The lady checking boarding passes called out to me as I got closer, "Are you Heather?" "Yes!" I said, relieved to be there. She smiled at me and gestured through the door. "Go right on in!" she said.

Dear stewardess lady,

You are the kindest ever. I wish I had given you a hug, too.

Sincerely,

Heather

12:05: Walk down the aisle until I see an open seat in the middle of a grandpa and a high school boy. The grandpa winked at me and pointed to the seat in the middle of their row. I ask if there is room in their overhead bin. Just as I had been hoping would happen, the high school boy offered to put my bags up for me. I gladly accept. Once I am seated, the grandpa leans forward and says to the high school boy next to me, "You can pay me later."

12:10 We depart! And I am actually on the plane.

Finals can make you write pointless blog entries.

Today was a confusing day for feelings.

I said goodbye to my friends at the Writing Center. (Kind of sad but I had so much fun today so, not too sad.)

Then I walked to my last final. (Excited! Almost done!)

Then it took 2 hours. (Oh. My. Goshhhh.)

But then I was done! (Yay!)

Then I called my dad. It stressed me out because I still haven't sold my contract and he got stressed, so I got stressed. (Sad slash stressed.)

Then I got home. (Tired.)

Then I saw that I had gotten a package! With presents for my friends! (Excited!)

Then I saw that none of my roommates were home. Larissa was out with friends, Caitlin is now in Maryland, and AnnaLisa was still on campus. (Looooonesome.)

Then I saw that That 70's Show was on! (Whoa excited!)

Then That 70's Show was over. (Tired.)

And then I just felt really tired. And I wrote a crappy blog post. (Dissatisfied with myself.)

As you can see, it was a confusing day for my feelings. I think the reason I wanted to blog in the first place was just to say that I think I've been really lucky this semester. I have loved my ward, loved my roommates, and loved both of my jobs. I've had awesome home teachers and a wonderful bishop. I've had so many people treat me kindly and befriend me. So I think that, I am actually lucky to be a little sad to be leaving. If I was 100% excited, maybe it would be because I wasn't so happy where I am now.

Regardless, I am excited to be going to Disney World. I decided today that my word that I am going to live by next year is going to be "adapt." No matter where I end up, or what happens to me, I am going to love it. I am going to go new places and do new things, and I am going to be just ridiculously happy about it.

Everybody's Gonna Love Today

You know what is really great? My morning playlist. Waking up to Mika, Britney Spears, Flo Rida, Michael Jackson, and Justin Bieber just makes life so much better. And it makes it so I end the semester on a really good note.

Why My Life was Awesome on Thursday:

1. Theresa brought raspberry muffins into the Writing Center today. She made them from scratch. They are the best muffins she has ever made. I loved them. And her.

2. I tutored a Brazilian. He was from Brazil. He spoke Portuguese. He had a Brazilian accent. He was Brazilian. I tutored him.

3. I had lunch with Kelly. We have had lunch almost every day this semester and I realized I am going to miss it so much when I am in Disney World! Right now, this is what our lunch goes like:

-I txt kelly and say, "Lunch at 12?" or whatever time.

-She txts me back and says, "Yes :)"

-We meet at the CougarEat and get in line at L&T. Or wherever.

-She talks. I talk. We talk. Sometimes our conversations are random, sometimes organized. We kind of just go back and forth and it doesn't always make sense if you are just listening in.

Here's what I'm wondered my lunch will look like in Disney World:

-me to random friend at work: Hey, do you want to go get lunch?

-friend: yeah sure!

-We go to a random cart or restaurant. We order our food. We sit.

-And sit.

-me: So. Work is fun today huh?

-her: Yeah. I love Disney World, don't you?

-me: Yeah.

-We sit.

I am just so worried that it won't be as fun!

4. I had my last health class. I loved this class, even though it was only once a week and we missed like a whole month of classes, since my teacher was sick or there was a holiday or I had my sister's wedding or whatever else. Anyway, today we got our final and it is going to be so easy and I am so excited about it.

5. I sent Crystal a letter! We were roommates last year and it was so fun. We are kind of opposite but somehow we became really good friends. Unfortunately, she moved to Hawaii to go to school there, so now we only get to communicate through txting. We've been talking about being pen pals all semester and I finally got around to sending a letter today. It was so exciting! Sending letters is really one of my favorite pasttimes.

6. I took a nap. I love naps with all my heart, might, mind, soul, brain, strength, bosom. Everything about me loves naps.

7. I worked with Jackie. I was planning on going 80's dancing but that fell through, so I went to work at Coldstone instead. It was really fun to work at Jackie because I haven't seen her in forever! She left at about 10:30 and Ashlyn covered the rest of her shift which was also awesome because I haven't seen her in even longer. Like, since we went mancamping.

8. As roommates, we decided to do a dare of the week, every week. We had to complete the dare by the week and then report back to each other. We are still on our first dare because Caitlin and I, who have been named the social ones of the apartment, are chickens and cannot bring ourselves to compliment a random boy on his physical appearance. Not sure why this is so hard but I've tried to do it like ten times and every time, I get super-nervous and just look away. Or run away.

This made the list of things that made my day awesome for a reason, I promise.

It's because today, this boy came into ColdStone. He was a college student and was with two other friends, a girl and a boy. He had pretty eyes that went really well with his shirt. I thought about the dare. I tried to work up the courage to tell him that his eyes looked pretty.

I opened my mouth.

"Um, do you want this in a waffle bowl?" I asked.

"Oooh," he said. "I'd better not. It's probably a lot more calories, huh?"

I shook my head. "No!" I said. "The waffle bowls are zero calories!" I say this every time a customer asks me about calories because it is so obviously false. You just need to not think about calories when you are in ColdStone. It's the only way to be happy. (If you want to be miserable, you can look at the nutritional information here.)

Anyway, he believed me for a second. He said, "Really?" and seemed to be considering the waffle bowl. A split second later, I started shaking my head on accident (I'm a really bad liar) and he stopped believing me.

"No, waffle bowls have calories. You're full of crap," he said. I put his ice cream in a boring old cup and brought it down to the cash register. He handed me his card and I rang up his ice cream.

"I can't believe you just said I'm full of crap!" I said. We talked a little bit more and I noticed that his eyes went really well with his shirt. I got really excited because I could easily say, "That shirt really brings out your eyes" and then I would have done the dare. I would probably never see this boy again anyway!

I opened my mouth to say my compliment, but before I could, he said: "Has anyone told you that you are really cute?"

I closed my mouth. "Um.....like ever?" I said.

"Like, today," he clarified.

"Nope, not today."

"Well I'll say it. You're just, really cute."

"Thank you!" I said. "That just made my day." So I appreciated the compliment, but I never did get to do the dare. I think I just need to learn how to compliment boys, besides saying "You're looking dapper today."

Awkward

Today, I went to the Creamery on 9th. This is what I needed to buy:

and .

Oh, also:
.

Whatever. I am a twenty-year-old woman. Making this kind of purchase does not bother me. I am far too mature to be fazed by such a responsibility. Except, I have never had such an awkward experience with it as I did today.

My first priority was getting paper plates, for a class party we are having on Wednesday. Then I picked up some conditioner. Then, as I walked confidently towards the section for feminine hygiene, it happened.

The creamery was suddenly swarmed by all the freshman boys currently living at Heritage. Seven of them, all about eight feet tall, nonchalantly set up camp right in front of my targeted purchase. They looked around, discussing how they should be at Subway instead. I couldn't have agreed more. I wanted them to be at Subway, too.

After idly looking over the hair products for a few minutes, I got tired of waiting. I marched up to them, determined not to be awkward. "Excuse me," I said.

"Oh, sorry," said one of them, and started to meander away. His friends turned to look at what I needed. Twelve eyes fell on the tampons, six necks turned red, and six awkward freshman boys scattered to all corners of the store. I might as well have been buying the antidote to the plague.

Still, in my earnest desire to avoid awkwardness, I took my time to make an educated decision about exactly which brand and box I wanted. I then walked up to the cash registers, where I was rejoined by the six giant freshmen, still talking about how great it would be if they were at Subway instead of the Creamery. I don't know what was keeping them there.

I put my conditioner, paper plates, and tampons on the little conveyor belt. The lady at the register snatched the tampons off the belt, scanned them, and threw them in a bag. Then she smiled sympathetically at me. "How is your day going?" she asked, her voice oozing with compassion.

I smiled. "Great!" I said. She smiled knowingly and started scanning my other items. "How's yours?" I asked.

"Pretty good," she said, and told me my total. I paid, thanked her, and left the Creamery.

Never to return again, because I just don't think I can handle it.

Middle School = Jail.

Every time I come home, I like to visit my siblings at their school and eat lunch with them. Since I was home for Kelly's wedding last week, I got to go to both Sarah and Jacob's lunches. They couldn't have been more drastically different.

First, Nicole, Savana and I went to Jacob's lunch. Jacob is in 6th grade. I remember my year in 6th grade as one where kids I had known for years suddenly starting swearing and fighting, teachers suddenly didn't want to take care of me anymore, and I suddenly became very aware of my own awkwardness. All things considered, it was not my favorite time.

In seventh grade, things started to improve. Teachers still didn't want to take care of me, but I didn't mind so much. I got to know Ms. Gottlieb, the GT resource teacher with curly bright red hair who loved me and let me visit her anytime I wanted throughout the day. I joined choir and drama and discovered that I could be a star on stage. I became more comfortable with the people I went to school with.

By the time I was in eighth grade, I loved everything about my life. I had so much fun with my friends in school. I knew how to get good grades and didn't worry so much about it. When I entered high school a few months later, I came into it with such good memories of middle school that I had completely forgotten how miserable I was my whole first year. In fact, I didn't remember my troubles until I went back over Thanksgiving break for lunch with Jacob.

Nicole, Bana and I went into the school and signed in in the front office, like good visitors. The secretaries told us that 6th grade was having their lunch, so we walked towards the cafeteria. It was strangely quiet and I wondered if their lunch hadn't yet started. But no, lunch was just beginning.

As we stepped into the cafeteria, hundreds of bowed heads turned their empty eyes to look at us questioningly. We looked around for Jacob and finally spotted him, sitting at a crowded table by the stage. I ran over and gave him a hug, and then we sat down with him. He smiled, happy to see us, but didn't say anything. Everyone just sat, with their heads down, quietly eating their food. No one spoke, expect Mr. Fairbanks on the microphone.

"The other teachers and I have been seeing some behavior, that we don't like!" he was saying. "We've been noticing behaviors that make us think, we. can't. take. you.....on a three-day field trip, later this year."

I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable as this speech went on. What could these students possibly have done? Outdoor Ed, the 3-day field trip Mr. Fairbanks was referring to, was a time-honored tradition! How could they just take it away from these kids?

"What did you guys do?" I whispered to Jacob. He shrugged and kept eating his sandwich, unconcerned.

Mr. Fairbanks said, "We just had an awards assembly yesterday. And a lot of you said that you like the new independence we give you here. You like that we don't walk you from class to class. You like that we don't try to babysit you all the time. A lot of you said, that you like these freedoms we give you."

(I actually went to this assembly with Kelly. We sat in the meager audience and cheered our hearts out. We danced along to the Jazz Band's songs, shouted our approval of the students' cute outfits, and applauded as their good grades were announced. I think we were more excited than the rest of the audience combined. At the assembly, Mr. Fairbanks read off a few fun facts about each of the students who got straight A's. One of the questions the students had been asked for this introduction was, "What is your favorite thing about middle school?" This is what Mr. Fairbanks was referring to.)

"But some of you are taking advantage of those freedoms!" Mr. Fairbanks continued, his voice rising in indignation. "I see you walking to class and....let me tell you something. You don't have time to be walking in the wrong direction! You have time to walk straight to class and if you're not, you're going to be late. You don't have time to be.....touchin' each other. Sayin' hi to your friends, you don't have that kind of time!"

At this point, I started to feel claustrophobic. And I felt like I was in trouble. And I felt a little bit like crying. But as I looked around, none of the students seemed flustered by this at all! They were acting like it was normal! The most I saw, by way of any emotion on their faces, was resignation.

Mr. Fairbanks prowled through the tables, stopping behind a round table and turning to face the rest of the students to share the following anecdote: "I saw someone today who was passin' around....some birthday thing for their friends to sign, I don't know. You can't be passing things around in between classes! This is middle school and you need to start exhibiting a little bit more responsibility and maturity."

I had to laugh a little at that story. Was Mr. Fairbanks being serious?? (He was.) Eventually, he had said his piece and concluded his speech with, "Alright. You guys have a few minutes left that you can talk QUIIIETTTTLYY!"

The cafeteria started to come alive with little conversations and I felt a lot better. I met some of Jacob's friends and asked them about some of my old teachers. I introduced myself to a kid who has been giving Jacob a hard time. I tried my best to ignore Mr. Fairbanks, who seemed to think that we had come to see him and that it was appropriate for him to put Nicole's hood over her head and laugh at her driver's license. (We did not agree.)

Lunch was over about five minutes after Mr. Fairbanks got off the microphone, so we said goodbye to Jacob and his friends and left. On our way out, we passed several kids who were marching in a circle around the flagpole under the careful supervision of three teachers, all standing menacingly with their arms folded and their whistles clenched in their teeth. We theorized that this was their recess.

Later in the afternoon, we went to the elementary school for Sarah's lunch. We walked in, chatted with the friendly secretaries, and made our way to the cafeteria. Thankfully, the atmosphere there could not have been more different than the one we experienced in the middle school.

The students were allowed to sit wherever, moved from table to table as they pleased. The air was alive with bubbly conversations. A few teachers and parent volunteers milled through the cafeteria, making friendly comments to the students.

When we walked in, Sarah ran up and gave us a hug, then led us back to her table. The teachers smiled over at us. Sarah's friends ran over to meet us and try to claim a seat near us. We were thrilled by this welcome. Sarah took me by the hand and walked me from table to table, introducing me to her friends who weren't sitting with us. When the teacher in charge reached for the microphone the first time, it was to announce that snack was served.

The next time she took the microphone, she said, "Okay, it's almost time to clean up! If everyone can be quiet and helpful, we'll get to listen to the music."

All the kids were acting really excited about this, so I wondered which nursery rhyme we would listen to and followed their example in putting up my quiet sign. Apparently this was a really dumb thought, because the first song that came on was "Just the Way You Are," by Bruno Mars.

The kids happily sang along and ran around, wiping down their tables and throwing away trash.

One little boy made his way up to the teacher with the microphone and asked her a question. She looked out at the rest of the students and said, "OK, I've had a request for Dynamite, is that what you guys want to hear?"

A cheer went up in the lunchroom. Then everyone threw up their quiet signs so they would be allowed to have music. In a few minutes, "Dynamite," by Taio Cruz, was playing, and lunchtime became dance time. One boy threw away his trash and then dropped to the ground to do the worm. Everyone threw his hands up in the air at the appropriate time. They sang and danced all the way back to their classrooms, where we said goodbye to Sarah and went back home.

I'm really glad I'm going to work at an elementary school, and not at a middle school.

My Life Be Like......

Here is my life right now:

Every morning, I wake up in a panic, wondering if I am late. If I am, I panic for a few minutes and then calm down. I consider how much my grade is going to go down for missing class again. If I am not late, I catch the bus ten minutes after waking up and get to campus every day by 9, either for class or for work.

During class, I write letters to missionaries and revise my to-do lists. Except in Brother Bott's class, in which I pay very close attention to the lesson. Also, in my dance class, where we skip around the room and make twisted shapes with our bodies.

During work, I bond with the other tutors who I work with. On Thursday, we make crafts for Craft Corner Thursday and eat yummy snacks, usually muffins that Teresa makes from scratch. I tutor people and fill out goldenrods and sometimes, when there's no one there, I do homework. Otherwise, we have very deep and intense conversations.

I eat lunch with Kelly every day. Usually Winnie also eats with us, and sometimes Kelsey, Christine, and Jackie join us. I try to get all my homework done on campus. I like working in the LRC the best, because I can listen to music in there. As I walk from class to class, I feel seriously annoyed by how cold it is. 12* is unacceptable. I count the days left until I am in Florida. I feel sad and a little excited.

After all my homework and classes, I take the bus home. I hang out with my roommates and eat and watch TV and do more homework. Or, cut out more paper snowflakes. I stress because I still haven't sold my contract. I update the news board. My roommates and I laugh at ourselves. We think about how we should work out. We go to the creamery. We check the mail. We eat more food. We look up some workout video that shows how the Victoria's Secret models get ready for their big fashion show. We consider doing it. I practice juggling the soccer ball. I catch up on my TV shows. I stress about how much I have to do! I make a to do list and calm down. I go to bed and stress about how I will probably not wake up in time for class or work.

Pretty soon, my life is going to change a lot. In a few weeks, finals will be over and I will be flying in a plane back to Maryland. I will play with my family for almost a month. Then, I will fly in another plane down to sunny Florida. I will meet up with Jackie and Christine at the airport. We will take the shuttle down to Disney World, where we will check in. We will get our apartments assigned to us, get our costumes, and start training for our jobs.

I will spend four months in Florida, soaking up the sun, trying to get my tan back, working as a fairy godmother-in-training at the Bibbity-Bobbity-Boutique and playing all the time, all day, whenever I'm not working. I will live by a beach and go there whenever I want. I will make new friends and learn to call another place home. I will laugh really hard and I will take tons of pictures and I will have tons of cool experiences and I will do crazy things and I will love my new life and I will miss Provo like crazy.

Thanksgiving with the Pooles

I'd like to call this, "Arizona Turkey."

Once upon a time, there was a depressed family called the Pooles living in Pennsylvania. It was nice that they lived so close to the Connors, because that meant that they got to spend every Thanksgiving together. This year was no exception.

The Connors planned to leave at 4:33 am on Wednesday, but as was tradition, they did not leave until 5:21 pm. They were just too busy trying to run, moon their teachers, and pack the police officers in Coco that it was difficult to get out the door. However, they were finally able to get on the road.

As can be expected around a holiday, traffic was fat! In Dad's car, they passed the time by listening to music from the sphincter checker and waving at hookers in Hummers. In Mom's car, everyone enjoyed (or ignored) an iridescent reading of Pride and Prejudice by Nicole. They may or may not have been treated to a surprise visit from Ecoli Imishi, who left everyone's pinkies prancing.

When they got to Aunt Carol's house, the first order of business was to go and watch "Tangled," a gaseous new Disney movie about a princess, poison sumac, a ghastly outlaw, and a wicked witch. Everyone agreed that it was a great movie. Afterwards, they brought Israel into the football room with some delicious taco salad. They finished up the day with movies and visiting, and then all the girls fell asleep on a nitrogen-filled matress with a fire by their breasts.

On Thanksgiving day, Uncle Brett and Jacob went to play lacrosse. It was sleeting police women outside, so Melody farded about Jacob all morning until they got back. She knew that he was wearing nothing but a tenta (tank top) and must be freezing! Luckily, Jacob was too manly and was fine.

Right after breakfast, the preparations for Hannukah dinner began in earnest. Everyone pitched in, whether they were making an oil & sweets salad like Heather or breaking onion soup dressing on the rolls like Julie. The meal turned out absolutely pretty, and all agreed that it was a Temple Square turkey year. From the 1,000,042-lb turkey to the beautiful fuscia corn to the fierce company, everyone had at least 8 things to be thankful for!

Speech! Speech!

I gave a speech the night before my sister's wedding, as the MOH.

Here's what I wanted to say:

Can I have everyone’s attention please?

Hi. I’m Heather Connor, and for the past few months, I’ve been introducing myself as the Maid of Honor, or the MOH, but today, I don’t want to do that. Today I just want to introduce myself as Kelly’s sister.

I guess everyone here already knows that I’m her sister, but I just wanted to say it again. As much as I’ve loved being the MOH, being Kelly’s sister is one of my favorite things that I’ve ever been.

She’s always been there, ever since I can remember. She was my best friend when we were little and is still my best friend now that we are….old. When I have something exciting happen to me, she’s the one I want to tell. When I am upset, she can always make me feel better.

I’ve always really admired Kelly and wanted to be like her. That’s why, whenever we would talk about the kind of man we wanted to marry, I always thought that Kelly had better marry the best man ever, because anyone else wouldn’t deserve her.

That’s why I’m so glad that she found Dahl. I watch the way he treats her, the way he talks to her and looks at her, and I know that they are perfect for each other. I never worry when she is with him, because I know that he will always be good to her.

And I know he’ll always be nice to me, too. He’ll always let me talk to him about what I did in school, or take me to work if I miss the bus, or listen to me babble about my boy problems. I’ve never had an older brother, and I am thrilled that now that I do get one, his name is Dahl Q. Salmon.

So I guess all I’m trying to say is, I love Kelly. She’s one of my favorite people in the whole wide world. She’s always been happy, but I’ve never seen her as completely happy as she is now with Dahl. I think them getting married is just the best idea ever.

Dahl, you belong with Kelly. I love you both! Congratulations!

Looks good, huh?

Here's what the speech sounded like instead:

"Um. Ummmm. Whew. So for the past few months, I’ve been introducing myself as the Maid of Honor, or the MOH, but today, I don’t want to do that. Today I just want to introduce myself as Kelly’s sister." Sniffle. Rapid blinking. "Whew. Ummm." Wobbly voice rears its squeaky head and I bumble through the rest of my speech.

The Essence of Moisture

Recently, Utah has been getting a little bit more rain than it usually does. I don't really like the rain here in Utah, and here's why: when I hear that it is going to rain, I get ready. I put on my black and white rainboots and make sure that my jacket has a hood. I leave my apartment, armed with my polka-dotted umbrella (ella, ella, ay, ay), ready to meet the rain head-on.

And then it doesn't rain.

Instead, the sky kind of glares at me, annoyed that I somehow managed to thwart its plan of ruining my day with its cold raindrops. It spends all day, gathering up gray until I go into a building for class, or until I go home for the night. And then, the second I step through the doorway, it starts to rain.

You might be wondering why this would bother a person. You might be thinking, "how wonderful, to have the world so in your favor that it never rains on you." But that's not really what bothers me. I am bothered because it never rains on me when I am prepared for rain. I am bothered because then, I carry around an unhelpful umbrella. I go out of my way to find puddles to splash through with my rainboots. My hood flops uselessly against my back. I was all ready for rain and it never came.

This is not so much a problem as what happens when I am not ready for rain. Sometimes, I get tired of hearing about the rain that is coming, because I've been wearing rainboots all week and have seen nothing but sunshine. Sometimes, I just don't remember to call the Utah Weather Phone and the rain takes me by surprise. Whatever the reason, there are some days that it rains that I am not sufficiently prepared.

On these days, I am greeted by an enthusiastic gray sky as a splash of water as soon as I leave my apartment. I walk through campus, head bowed, resigned to my situation. I look around at all the others students, happily shaking off their umbrellas and stomping their cute boots, and I wonder why the rain couldn't have come at a time when I, too, was wearing boots and toting around an umbrella.

However annoying this is, the thing that bothers me the most about rain is this thing that people seem to really like doing in Mormon culture. It's called, being grateful for the rain.

Not trying to hate on anyone's prayers, but I have to say that this has always seemed weird to me. Whenever it is a rainy day, or it is the day after a rainy day, people will invariably work that into their prayers somehow. It usually sounds something like this: "And we thank thee for the rain," or, "We thank thee for this good moisture we have received," or, "We thank thee for the moisture and ask that it can go to the places that need it." There are many variations of this idea, but it bothers me every time, no matter how it is worded.

I just have to wonder, why is anyone grateful for this moisture? We have sprinklers. Utah has been a dessert for.....ever, and everyone has got it under control. When I was graduating from high school, and I told people I was going to be going to school in Utah, many of them said something about how I would miss the greenness of the East Coast. But I haven't actually missed it that much. Utahns water their yards obsessively in the spring and summer, as soon as the snow disappears. They get fancy sprinkler systems that will water their grass every 6 minutes. The drought situation has been stabilized.

It also confuses me when people say this, because I don't hear anyone saying, "Oh, I'm so glad it's raining today! This is great that Utah is getting some rain!" (except when they are being self-righteous). More often, you hear people saying, "Look at my hair, I hate this rain." "My shoes are soaked, I should have worn my rainboots." "I just want to go dry off, this rain is ridiculous." That doesn't sound very grateful.

Personally, I am grateful for rain if the following are also happening:

1. I am inside, and I am sleeping.
2. I am inside, and there is cool lightning.
3. I am inside, and all the lights are still on.
4. I am outside, and someone really smokin hot is kissing me super-passionately.

If you also feel like this, you might consider saying thank you for your house, which keeps you safe and warm and far away from the "moisture."

I throw my Pants up in the air sometimes.

When I was in high school, I had a close group of friends who I hung out with nearly every weekend. Our activities were basically the same from week to week: we would all gather at someone's house to eat snacks and watch a movie. Sometimes we would go for a few weeks in a row where the only thing that changed was the movie we watched.


There were a few times, though, that I didn't hang out with these friends. Instead, I wanted to go out with some of my other friends. Invariably, when I laid the proposition before my parents, they would answer my question with a question of theirs. It was the same question every time: What's the plan?


This question annoyed me a lot at the time. "I don't know, Dad," I would say, checking my fingernails. "We're just going to hang out at [fill-in-the-blank]'s house."

"You don't know what you're going to do?" my dad would ask. At this point, I could practically feel the increase in his blood pressure and I knew what was coming next.

"We'll probably....I don't know, we'll probably watch a movie, or play some games? I'm not in charge. We're just going to hang out."


Already, I knew the battle was lost. I felt a strange mixture of helpless agitation as I watched my dad's expression turn from apprehension to exasperation. I scrambled around in my teenage brain for something that sounded plausible as a Friday night activity for a bunch of teenagers in Howard County that didn't involve sex, drugs, or police. None of these things had a place in my life, but for some reason, during these conversations, I could never think of anything constructive my friends and I might spend our time doing.


"Okay so....you're going over to [so-and-so]'s house, and you're all just going to go and....sit."


"No - Dad, no. We'll do something, I just don't know what." At this point I decided it would just be best to shift the responsibility to someone else, someone far out of the reach of my Dad's ridiculously probing questions. "I mean it's not my house, I'm not the one in charge. We'll come up with something when we see what we all feel like doing."


"I don't like this idea, this whole going by the seat of your pants, thing."


THERE. There it was. He said it every time! "Seat of your pants...." what does that even mean?? Before I could catch myself, I felt my eyes rolling involuntarily.


"Heath, I mean it!" my dad snapped. "I mean, it's just stupid. You can't get a bunch of teenagers together with no plan....no plan is a bad plan. You're not gonna come up with something good."


Of course, this was a personal attack. "Are you saying you don't trust me?" I asked, my eyes suddenly widening. "Dad, these are my friends!" The invisible drama-meter in the room shot up to 100 as I struggled to regain control of myself. "Don't you think I can make good friends? Don't you trust me?" I asked. "We will come up with something good!"


"Okay. Why don't you come up with it before you all get together?"


Suchhh an unreasonable request. I was appalled at my father's seemingly relentless desire to completely lay waste to my social life. Somehow, these discussions would come to an end, usually with me promising to come up with an acceptable activity and tell my dad what we would be doing before I went out the next night.


At the time, I saw myself as an underprivileged and mistrusted youth whose parents were purposefully depriving me of valuable experiences to build relationships with the people around me. I'm sure that my reaction was partly due to stress and lack of sleep (which are very real problems in high school, I won't try to downplay that) and partly due to the uncontrolled hormones ricocheting around in my head.


Now that I am in college, I can see my dad's point of view much more clearly. I think that, more than wanting to hang out with my friends in high school, I just wanted to have friends. If we didn't have a plan, it didn't really matter to me, as long as I was there for the hours we were hanging out, however unplanned they were.


Besides, plans seemed overrated to me. Every hour of my day was planned out, from seminary at 5:45 to school at 7:25 to orchestra rehearsal at 2:30 to piano lessons at 4:00 to work at 7:30 to homework at 10:30 to sleep at....whenever I finished my homework. In my mind, plans were equivalent to sleep deprivation and stress. I wasn't interested in any more of that, so I just naturally associated the weekend with no plans and no stress.


College is very different from high school. I choose my own schedule. I live with my friends. I spend my time doing whatever I want. Compared to high school, I have more free time now and fewer obligations. Even work and school are optional to some extent, in that I can usually find someone to cover my shift if something comes up.


With this change in lifestyle, I have experienced a change in attitude. I hate when there's not a plan. I hate just going by the seat of my pants.


Some people aren't bothered by not having a plan. Some people aren't bothered by the people who aren't bothered by not having a plan, but I am not one of them. These people actually bother me a lot.


I was working in the Writing Center a few weeks ago and tutored for a boy who then bought me lunch and got my phone number. He txted me later that night and, after some small talk, asked if I would like to go out with him the next Friday. I was a little annoyed that he was trying to ask me on a date through txting, but he seemed nice enough, so I chalked it up to post-mission awkwardness and told him to call me.


By Wednesday, he still hadn't called and my sister was wondering what the plan was so she and Dahl could plan their weekend, since she wanted to double with us. I ended up calling him. When I asked if we were still on for Friday, he said: "Friday.....ohhh, Friday, oh.....yeah, yes. Friday." This was (a) annoying, since I did not want to be the one to plan it, and (b) insulting that he had forgotten about me. We worked out a tentative plan (aka, I came up with a tentative plan and he said it sounded fun) and I felt a little better.


On Friday, three hours before we were supposed to leave, this boy txtd me and asked if we could go later. I was so annoyed by the whole ordeal that, in the end, I went with my roommates instead. We had a lot of fun and I felt really good about this decision.


Tonight I am going out with another boy for a late-night date. I think he wants us to get something from Jamba Juice? This sounds like a great idea, except for the fact that we are both very busy people and he will be picking me up at about 10:30. When we were talking about it on the phone, I asked if Jamba Juice would still be open at this time and he said he wasn't sure. Then he said, "Well, if it's not, we'll figure something else out."


In my head, I thought: "You'll figure something else out."


When boys have a plan of what they want to do, it is nice for many reasons. It's respectful of the girl's time. It makes it so I don't feel stressed because I have to keep reassuring the boy that it's no problem that we don't have a plan. Because it actually is a problem.


Also, I feel like my time is valued when there is a plan. I have a really busy schedule, so if a boy is wanting to take me out on a date, I hope that he realizes that I am going on the date because I want to spend time doing something fun with him and not because I want to spend time figuring out something fun to do with someone I hardly know. I can have fun with people without a specific plan, but if I don't know you, I can't always be spontaneous and fun. Sorry.


I don't want it to sound like I'm super anal and schedule-oriented. I just think it's annoying when boys that I don't really know are like "Oh hey, wanna get together and do something fun sometime maybe?" It's frustrating. I don't even like it when boys I'm interested in do this. It's a turnoff. It makes me feel like I'm just there to entertain you.


The important thing isn't even if the plan works out exactly how you want it to. This past weekend I went on a date where literally everything went wrong. My date, a boy in my ward, was an hour late picking me up, because something was wrong with his car, so we missed the kickoff and almost the whole first quarter. His roommate, who was going to go with us, couldn't find his date's house and ended up dropping out, so my date and I had to go and get her. He hadn't bought tickets yet, so we had to get them when we got to the stadium...............


My point is, everything besides the weather went wrong, and I still had a really fun time. Honestly. I knew that he had tried to plan it out, and he was really apologetic about everything. He was very thoughtful in asking me if I wanted something to drink or any food. Things were going wrong, but they were largely out of his control. I didn't feel stressed or annoyed or disrespected, because of the way he handled it.


So gentlemen, please learn from this entry. When you are just getting to know a girl, come up with a plan. Actually, come up with two. Just in case Plan A falls apart. No more going by the seat of your pants.


No more throwing your pants up in the air sometimes.

Boys will be Girls....but only for a little bit.

I've decided Halloween is one of my favorite holidays, because dress-up is pretty much my favorite game. I love figuring out what I want to be, coming up with the design in my head, and then finding all the perfect accessories. I love putting on fake eyelashes and I love spending hours to get ready and I love taking pictures of it all.


This year, Halloween was just as fun as it always has been. I try to dress up in as many different costumes as possible, so on Friday I was Minnie Mouse and on Saturday I was the girl in the song about apple-bottom jeans. Thanks to Kelly for giving me a red-and-white polka-dot dress last year and Nicole for the apple-bottom jeans!


On Friday, Caitlin, AnnaLisa and I went to the stake party with some boys from our ward, and on Saturday, I went to Pirate Island with Winnie, Jackie, Christine, Kristen, C.L., and a few of their friends who I don't know as well. One of the people in our group was a boy named Dallin who dressed up as a Playboy bunny. He wore a short pink tutu, a midriff-bearing black shirt, lacy pink knee-highs, and a curly blonde wig. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so excited to be wearing a skirt.


All night, I watched as he pranced around, twirling his blonde hair around his finger, fluffing his pink skirt, batting his fake eyelashes. When we took group pictures, he felt the need to be in the front, so everyone could see every part of his costume. He wasn't pushy or obnoxious, just excited. Everyone else found him just as hilarious as he found him(her?)self, so we didn't get tired of him or anything. Still, it was obvious that he was proud of the costume he had put together and he wanted as many people to be aware of it as possible.

After the dance at Pirate Island, we all went back to Winnie's apartment and watched a scary movie. Dallin changed out of his costume into some more comfortable basketball shorts and a t-shirt and seemed happy to at last be out of the wig. From observing all of this, I was reminded that being a girl is a pretty great thing.

Despite all the disadvantages that a lot of girls like to bring up occasionally when they are feeling particularly gripe-y or pms-y, I love being a girl! I love the role that I have been given to play by society. I love that I am expected to look pretty and speak kindly.

I love the relationship that I, as a girl, have with boys. Maybe I shouldn't like it so much, but I really like that boys are supposed to be strong and protective and good at math. I like that, when the vaccuum breaks, my roommate txts three different boys in the ward to get them to come fix it instead of asking any of the girls living next door or below us. I like that boys wanttt to fix things for girls. Maybe it's an archaic way of thinking, but personally, I think that I got the very long end of the stick.

Towards the beginning of the night, while Dallin was parading around in his tutu, I thought that he must have discovered how fun it is to be a girl. But at the end of the night, when he had reverted back to his manlier ways, he seemed much more comfortable. When I went camping over the summer with some of my friends, we tried to act as manly as possible. We grunted and made manly jokes and did a manly fire dance. It was fun, but when we woke up the next morning, we were all ready to shower and put on our makeup and be girls again.

And I think that's the beauty of Halloween. For one day, or two, or three, depending on how much you celebrate, you can be whatever you like, even if you wouldn't want to be that thing forever. I believe that the girl described in "Low" is actually a stripper, or at least a pole dancer, which I certainly am not. But I wanted to dress up like her, so I did. It was fun to wear big hoops and put shimmery eyeshadow on up to my eyebrows, but I wouldn't want to dress that way on a regular basis. It doesn't accurately portray who I really am, but on Halloween, it did a great job of portraying who I'm not.

Halloween means that a little blonde girl can dress up as a super-ghetto shawty if she wants to, and a bench-pressing, deep-voiced man can go out all dolled up like a playboy bunny is he wants to.