Memoir of a Couch

Stress Relief

It's been a stress-filled week-- the shooting out of bed, heart-pounding at 5 am kind of stress.  My to-do list has been rather hefty, but certainly not more than I've had to tackle before. I've never experienced jittery anxiety quite like this before: hands quivering, mind whizzing from one thing to the next like a hummingbird.

Luckily, the move across the country during my junior year of high school honed my coping skills.  And I've picked up a few more since moving to Provo.  Here we go:

1. The Office

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This show has gotten me through so much. No joke.  One episode and several laughs later, I can't help but feel better, my mind carried ways away from the present worry to the lovely town of Scranton. And before I know it, one episode turns to six. . .

2. Hot drinks

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Originally the drink of choice was hot chocolate (with a Harry Potter book in hand), but I've since opted for the healthier option of herbal tea, peach being my favorite (and college reading requirements have stifled my beloved Harry Potter sessions). 

3. Running

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Doesn't always sound good, but always, always works.

4.  Phone calls

 Julie and mother dear have been on the receiving line lately. (Thanks & much love).

5.  Naps on a soft couch in the warmth of a sunbeam

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Need I say more?

6.  Watermelon

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This is a new one, but so soothing.  I think I have possibly single-handedly consumed four watermelons in the last month.

7.  The Book of Mormon

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When nothing else works, this does. The spirit of this book has comforted and lifted my heart and brought light to my life when I needed it most.  Learn about it here.

8. And ok, I won't pretend this doesn't happen. Often. 

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A Dash of Cinnamon

This week happiness tastes like a piece of peanut butter and banana toast with a dash of cinnamon.

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I know this is not a groundbreaking concoction, but I tried it for the first time today and oh my, I am in love.   Like, I-can't-wait-to-sleep-so-I-can-wake-up-and-reunite-at-the-breakfast-table kind of love.


It looks like:

Wonderful roomies, including Clarissa who is missing from this picture.

And sounds like:



Country?  Yes, I am feeling it this week.

And the mysterious city? Here it is--I'M GOING TO CHICAGO!  I recently got the good news about an internship I applied for earlier this year. You can view a news release about it here. Look for updates starting the beginning of June and wrapping up mid-August.  I will be armed with a new camera in hopes that I can adequately capture in word and photo the essence of this amazing city and the incredible organization I will be able to be a part of.

(Life) - (Statistics) = so good.

Sophomore

I love these girls.  Loved living with them, loved growing into my new-found independence with them.

 I cherish my memories of late-night soul-searching and feeling absurdly adult-like pushing a grocery cart through Macey's with Julie (who kindly put up with my scattered papers and shoes and well, everything).

With Lindsey, movie nights, giggle fits, fantastic music (and honestly Linds, one of my favorite memories is when we washed the dishes while listening to Saturday General Conference. And the time you took me to get a slurpee that night when I thought it could only get worse).

With Rachel,  slamming tim tams, sharing missionary stories and learning from her how to be gentler, more soft-spoken and thoughtful.

Spring semester has commenced and I have officially spent one week in my new digs with my new roommates.  There is Michelle, the vivacious returned missionary, Clarissa, the sardonic novelist (a not-so-hidden part of me wants to be a sardonic novelist one day, but first I'll need something to be sardonic about), and Katie, the sweet country girl.

I knew we were going to be great friends the moment Clarissa described the shower water as being "tepid," the moment Michelle suggested we go for a midnight run (and turned up a copy of Ender's Game that she brought to college) and the moment I walked into the kitchen to find Katie eating oatmeal with fresh blackberries.

The new ward's great--I'm only in danger of not getting my statistics homework done.  In exactly four hours I will be waking up to volunteer for a marathon with some of my ward-ees. The things I will do to get to know people.

And in the way of marathons, I did half of one last weekend, checking one of my goals off for the year.  My blonde stunner-of-a-friend Tawni and I had been training for it since January, but she tragically sprained her ankle the week before so I had to run it alone.  Whole marathon next?  We'll see.

This is the part where I would like to say something profound about my freshman year.  But it is 1:26 am and I am now getting up in three and a half hours.  I'm older, marginally wiser, and a whole lot more sleep deprived.  I am blessed with so many wonderful friendships-- thank you, thank you, for making my life so rich.

Good night!

Retrospect

An excerpt from a post I wrote to my best friends May 8, 2010:

As my plane lifted off from the Salt Lake airport, I didn't feel angry or miserable or jealous. I had a distinct feeling that I didn't belong there right then. I feel like I've been anchored somewhere new and I know that it's a blessing that I'm starting to see it as a blessing.

It's hard to think that our day-to-day interactions will inevitably change...
I often find myself believing that I will ship off to college THIS September.  Living vicariously? Just a bit. One thing I know for sure-- living across the country hasn't weakened the friendships that matter.  Quite the opposite!  I'll always be there for you, I'll always love to talk to you, I'll always want to know that you're alright. 

I love this quote by President Monson:
 
Fill your minds with truth
Fill your hearts with love
Fill your lives with service

It's my new little mission statement.  My hope... is that I can be the kind of person I needed most in the darkest moments of last winter.


The piece pinpoints the time when I began to accept my new life in West Virginia. It's interesting to see how my perceptions shift as the years pass,how something so devastating one year morphs into something I can see in a positive light months and years later.  


It's a good reminder to me as I face challenges here at university.  The things that keep me tossing and turning in my bed late at night I'll likely look back on as insignificant, or character building months later.  If I even remember them at all. 


This too, shall pass. . .

Not Out of This Mouth

Inspired by Paige and Lindsey, I give you my Things I Will Never Say list:

"Extra cheese, please."
"I wish I didn't have to sleep so much."
"His bad breath makes me want to lean in."
"Can I please write your paper for you?"
"I wish people would stop using you're and your in the correct context . . ."
"I'm really stoked for our cleaning check tonight!"
"I hate the city."
"Classical music is boring."
"Wear some camo with that!"
"I'm totally into this televised football game."
 And in the same vein. . .
"Go Utes!"
"Ke$ha?  My idol."
"Channing Tatum is my ideal man."
"I need to hit the tanning salon, I'm so disgustingly pasty."
"If I could, I would wear sweats all. the. time."
"The Harry Potter books? Not that good."
"Am I too tall in these heels?"
"Whyyyy am I not marrieeeed?"
"Please oh please let there be a quiz in class today!"
"No, I would not like a stick of your gum."

And borrowed from my girl Lindsey: "All I want to do with my life is clean my house, cook dinner, and have babies."


It's in the life plans, of course,  but I have a feeling that's only going to be half of my story. 

Snow Canyon and My Weekend in George

I loved this desert-y escape from reality. Trip complete with blasting music and cruising cars, famous frozen custard, hot tubs and freezing pools, homemade pizza, glow-in-the-dark caves and soaring red rocks, funny boys, quote-able movies, endless rounds of murder in the dark, tennis on a blustery day and no chance of melanoma (or a beautiful, glowing tan) thanks to the overcast weather.

Half Moons

Her sparkly brown Emma Watson eyes transform into half moons as her face lifts into another freckles-and-nose-crinkling smile.


I wasn't expecting this. 


Not the half moons or the ready smile, but the secret behind them.


Secret sorrow, 
Sparks our neural fibers,
Ashes penetrating the temporal lobe
Never fall deep enough to undo the memory of
Mental fire


Secret tallies of the invisible battle
Of shame and loss, trial and error
Intricately etched between each rib
A visceral reminder with each breath
If only In were not so intertwined with Out
Without.


I just didn't expect to learn her secret so matter-of-factly, so simply, it was so. . . different from the girl I had seen. The one who flicked her cascading brunette waves and had every male in the room quasi-hypnotized.

 I saw her pictures from the month it happened. The half moons were still there and if anything, she was glowing. It wasn't just her face, but her.  Her kind smile emanating from her innocent, open face.  I couldn't and still can't find any darkness about her.


I'm sorry?  That's the best I could do?

Nobody prepares you for the moment when someone says "My dad died of cancer a few months back."

"I'm sorry," that trite phrase, stale on my lips. A nervous sigh. Trying to muster the right amount of empathy in my eyes, without bordering on pity.  She must have seen and heard it a million times before.

And that's what humbled me.  No self pity, no gushing, no anger or annoyance.  A soft, sad smile and then a brighter one, moving forward.

Her eyes transforming from half moons to crescents.

February: Lived It Up, Wore it Out

February was a month of heavy-duty homeworking and work-working with some high points on the weekends.  A few highlights:

One of several dances this month, this one being on the more formal end.  How could we tell?  There were chocolate fountains involved. 

 Valentine making with thumb prints just like the second grade :).

An excellent apartment-wide late-night discussion aided by Julie's D.I. purchase of 365 Questions for Couples. Hilarious.

 And don't forget Apartment 262's monthly playlist!  We had some memorable lines this month:

Luke Bryan in honor of Lindsey's lovely new car and joy rides:

You've got your hands up, you're rocking in my truck, you got the radio on, you're singing every song.  I'm set on cruise control, I'm slowly losing hold of everything I got. . . 


Carly Rae Jepson in honor of the pick up line of the month:
Hey I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe?


And finally, an ode to the mental and physical taxation of three midterms in three days:

Pieces of a Long Weekend

Watching this lovely movie at one in the morning with my roomie and reflecting on Summers and Autumns.

Cruising through this 1,045 page novel, and enjoying it. 

Getting the sounds of Tyrone Wells stuck in my head in preparation for his upcoming concert--with Joe Brooks!  Tickets here.

Dancing the night away (literally, we were on our feet for a solid 4 hours) at The Loft.

Seeing my first violin student hold up the violin like a pro.

Training for this baby.

Reading this beautiful blog post by my favorite Wily Brunette:  these are the ways you love yourself. (to forgive).

"The only way to know the story is to go out and write it. live your way into it. ferociously. begin to live and work and fight and love with an unparalleled ferocity. let fear dictate nothing. unfurl your chest, you have all the armor you'll ever need. see with wide eyes and don't forget to laugh."

Love in a Box

Today was so crazy.

Aerobics class. Work training. Bus.  Home. ShowerPackLunchReviewforQuiz. Bus. Media Writing avec wet hair. Housing research. Nap on a couch in a bathroom. Symphony rehearsal. Peer mentor meeting. Bus. Home. Dinner. Homework. Bus.  Public Relations class. Bus.  Home.

Not to mention a million emails and phone calls filling in the gaps, trying to plan ahead for my life when I can barely see past today.  The bathroom nap was quite delightful, actually.  Book of Mormon class was cancelled so I decided to celebrate my new-found spare time in a deliciously unconscious sort of way.

The highlight of all of this was a quiet little gap amidst the packed schedule (see "Dinner"), which included listening to this lovely band:





And eating these:

Sweet potato fries.  My go-to comfort food as of late.  Recipe and picture found here, although I prefer to use garlic salt instead of brown sugar.

I ate and listened and realized I was doing just fine.

Rainy Day

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Eating toasted peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, letting semi-sweet chocolate chips melt in my mouth as I'm

Reading King Lear, curled up on a pile of fleecy blankets before I

Set the book down, close my eyes and daydream about someone to dance in the rain with as I

Slip into a deep mid-afternoon nap with the

Rain pattering soothingly on my window.

January's Playlist

Maybe you can tell we went to see Footloose? 

Mantra

Via Pinterest.

P.S. Peach herbal tea is divine.

A Peculiar Craving

**Disclaimer: I am not pregnant.

Probably not the best way to start out a post, but trust me, it's all uphill from here. So here it is, I'll lay it out for ya:

This week I have had an incessant, thought-consuming, saliva gland inducing desire for. . . peppers. Yep. Green, yellow, and red, fried up in some olive oil with garlic salt to taste. It just hits the spot--it's rich, sweet, slightly salty, yet light and smooth and warm. And it feels so nice in my stomach.

I was thinking about peppers all day today, planning to bike to the grocery store in the dark through the chilly January air to pick some up. I thought I'd try the Creamery first, spare myself a miserable trip, and I lucked out--sort of. I might have spent $2.80 on a single red pepper.

But it was goooood. 

I don't know what this is, a vitamin deficiency maybe? But at least it's vegetables, right?

All part of a nutritious meal.

Extreme Photography

Today I'm defining extreme photography as:

-Taking pictures while moving 55 miles per hour
-On a rumbling snowmobile
-Driven by a nineteen year-old male
-Through four feet of powder
-Across the winding slopes of the Uintahs

I think the age and sex of the driver in question should be particularly noted; it seems to me that those characteristics fall into a higher risk-taking bracket.  I drove as well, and although my confidence was shaken by a near run-in with a pine tree and a stint in some deep powder, I was cruising by the end of the day. Snowmobiling is no skiing. . . it's louder, and, well, yeah.  Louder.  More passive. Less in-tune with Mother Nature.  But there's undoubtedly something enjoyable about moving fast through the wilderness and whipping through the air.

With that being said, you can't blame me for only taking these two:

And an obligatory nature shot:

On a somewhat related note, I recently entered one of my research papers into a university writing contest.  If I luck out enough to get a cash prize, it's all going towards a camera. My current one is functional, but not much beyond that.  It still runs on AA batteries. And I'm still a far cry away from purchasing my dream model, so if the contest doesn't work out, good old saving it is. Wish me luck.

Also.  I adore Missy Higgins.  The hair. The accent. The spunk and soul. 

Song of my week.

The Lining is Silver

I've found a new fool-proof way to boost your mood from a downer 2 or 3 to at least a solid 6.5

Step 1: Put on running shoes and prepare iPod with this song:


Step 2: Soak in the lovely, harmonious sounds of Relient K as you pick up speed and get on the running trail of your choice.

Step 3: Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Yes, exactly four times.

Step 4: Take your headphones out, tuck your iPod away in your pocket. Take in the sounds of passing cars, rustling leaves, and whirling breezes. Return a smile and wave to the cute guy (or girl, depending. . . ) running by. Breathe deeply.

Step 5: Sprint the last leg home. Gulp a glass of ice water and cook up a hearty meal.

Step 6: Recognize that you can't trust anyone to sustain your happiness for long. Except you. And maybe Relient K.

I love how Meg Fee said it:

i don't want a life that's perfect. where every day is good. where happiness never falters and gives way to longing or loneliness or pain. that doesn't interest me. why try and hide what makes us human? show me that. give me that. offer up your humanity, your fault-line of divinity, and i will spend each day forging forward into that land where language has no meaning. to that place beyond words where we find and love each other wholly and simply.

First Week in Numbers

16.5- The number of credits I'm enrolled in this semester.
5- Classes to attend on Mondays and Wednesdays
11-hours spent on campus on said days.
15- Clementines I've consumed this week. They're my new apple.
4- Mugs of peach tea (instant relaxation and deliciousness to boot).
10- Hours on the new job.  Getting paid to learn new technology?  I'm down with that.
1- Application submitted to the Department of State.  Summer job in DC?  We'll see.
1- Trip to Urgent Care.  An eye infection.  And one wild bike ride to the clinic with only one functional eye.
3-Awesome professors.  I'm excited for Media Writing, Intro to PR, and World Lit.
1- No, let's make that. . .
2-Beautiful outdoor runs.

Au revoir!

Unfamiliar Familiarity

There is something strange about coming home after four months.  It's unfamiliar familiarity.

You step through the threshold and the aroma of the house floods your nose, strong enough to evoke emotion-memories, subtle enough to prevent you from ever being able to recall it anywhere else.

You have to re-adjust your habits: simple motions and repetitive actions.  The microwave is too high, the counters are too low.  You grope around in the dark, swatting at the walls, trying to remember where the light switch is. Your foot rises and falls on level ground--you imagined an extra stair.

As I return to old places, detailed memories I'd let go flood back.  Stepping into my room, I'm reminded of the new-house smell that marked my first months in West Virginia.  The smell of paint and new carpet, blended with the memory of the music from my alarm clock, wearily sounding the return of another 5 am morning.  And other vague sensory details associated with the swollen heart and twisted gut I thought would never fade. 

My room heater hums and I think of lying on the floor, soaking in the heat like a reptile, phone practically melded to my ear, mouth spewing nothing and everything. Which reminds me of my first winter here: the endless snow days, trudging through a forest knee-deep in snow, sledding and eating pumpkin waffles with good friends. Beauty that I didn't fully see until it had passed me by.

 Friends come and go.  Years melt together.  A little pain here, a lot of joy there.

Time, rolling forward, never stopping before the unfamiliar becomes the familiar, and the familiar becomes the unfamiliar again.

Breakdown

Well, here it is, the last two weeks of the semester have arrived!  These past few months have just flown by and I barely know where the time has gone.  It feels oh so good to see the assignments on my various syllabuses get checked off one-by-one.  I'm going to push through two more weeks of partying and studying (er--sorry, other way around, study then party), and then, as my good friend Jack Johnson relates, I'll be about ready to breakdown. Too bad I can't just surf and beach-bum my cares away.  I can't tell you how much I've missed my queen-sized bed though.  It'll be nice to settle between my fifteen pillows, and my huge, heavy comforter, as the snow drifts between the West Virginia hills.  And maybe go to sleep before 2:00 am?  Nahh, probably not.


(Wish I took this--photo courtesy of templesquarehospitality.com)

This Friday some friends and I went to the Gateway, walked around Temple Square and checked out the lights, and even took a trip down memory lane as we drove through my old neighborhood.  This morning I was back in Salt Lake with a fellow Canadian to listen to Music and the Spoken Word in the Conference Center.  It was such a nice way to usher in the Christmas season!  I can hardly believe it's here. Between Relient K Christmas albums, and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, I'm starting to get into the spirit of things.

Here's a blurb from the spoken word portion of Music and the Spoken Word that I enjoyed:

"Observe any family or neighborhood and you will find that the most precious moments usually take place during day-to-day living: a sister helps her younger siblings with homework, a mother tenderly cares for a sick child, a father plays catch with his son, a widow invites friends to her home, a neighbor shovels the snow, a teacher explains a concept at a child's desk.  These events are not to be ignored or diminished just because they seem small or ordinary. They are meaningful in the most profound way, yet they are cloaked in the commonplace, the everyday. . . We may not hear angels sing or see a new star in the heavens, but we can sense in our souls when something significant is happening. When we do, we will find that these are not ordinary events at all."

Good luck with finals and wrapping up school, everyone!  West Virginia, I'll see you soon.

Personality, Professors & November's Playlist

Forever 21 shirt + Pigtails = Halloween costume?

Yesterday I took the Myers-Briggs test for kicks. My results seemed surprisingly accurate:

E- Extroversion
N- Intuition
F- Feeling
P-Perceiving

In other words, not a single letter from the concrete, logical, and grounded side.   Oh dear.  So here it is, according to Myers-Briggs I'm:

Warmly enthusiastic and imaginative. I see life as full of possibilities. Make connections between events and information very quickly, and confidently proceed based on the patterns seen. Want a lot of affirmation from others, and readily give appreciation and support. I'm spontaneous and flexible, often relying on the ability to improvise and my verbal fluency.

I was delighted to discover that my writing professor and I have the same letter combination.  Have I mentioned that I adore her?  She's the kind of person who bakes cookies and brings them to class, who meets with you to go over your paper a second time, who tells funny stories about her mission and shares inspiring, thought-provoking personal experiences that are somehow completely relevant to different writing concepts we are discussing.  She's the kind of person who brings up pictures of her kids and husband, sighs deeply, and says

"Oh you guys, this is what you have to look forward to.  You have no idea how much joy is waiting for you."

I love that.

I love how she teaches for us and not just to us. She doesn't teach down to us, and for that I respect her so much.  Our class is only about twenty people strong so we've become pretty close-knit this semester. We've had some incredible in-class discussions and I've made some friends I know I'll be keeping around.

In a different vein, November's been an excellent month for music.  My tastes have been more acoustic, I've just been flowing with the cozy, chill fall vibe.  I decided that I had a quintessential fall moment which I described in a recent missionary letter:

I am curled up on the living room couch, listening to some John Mayer classics and taking in the smell of delicious pumpkin chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.  When I glance up,the mountains outside the window fill up my view. They have a reddish hue from all of the changing tree colors, but no snow just quite yet. The trees closest to our apartment are bright yellow tinged in brown, but most of the leaves have fallen. The sky is bright blue with no clouds to be seen. It’s a perfect fall day in Provo.

I think Jack Johnson and John Mayer are pretty interchangeable in that first sentence.  They're the sound of deep, slow, rich happiness.

So without further ado, November's playlist (containing much less of the aforementioned artists, but some good stuff nonetheless).