The Yellow Cardigan.

The truth about this culture.

2012-01-09T21:24:00.001-07:00

There's something different about Provo....

For so long I thought it was the result of the honor code and obvious sexual tension of the campus, but I was wrong. I mean they explain the surface difference, but there's something more. There's more to it.

It's perfectionism. Girls have to be Betty Crocker, Twiggy, Hermione Granger, and Taylor Swift in the same moment. It's nuts! I can't stay Twig skinny (Twig. Twiggy. Get it?) while I'm trying to win over someone's stomach. And I most definitely can't be a know-it-all in my classes if I'm staying up all night writing cute and articulate melodies with my crush's first name.

Note my second epiphany: GIRLS, WE DO IT TO OURSELVES.

(And if you are reading this saying, "Duh, I figured this out a lifetime ago" .....well then, I feel a little awkward and embarrassed, or rather awkwardly embarrassed. Evidence that I've been far too caught up into this worse-than-reality-tv nightmare.)

Why else do I put up arms every time another girl walks into the room? And why is it that I'll proceed to pull out my imaginary shotgun and vicious eyes of death if she doesn't comfortably fall behind me on my perceived perfect-girl criteria rating?

I probably shouldn't even be admitting this...but maybe doing so is a step in the right direction?

Since I already did my homework AND made a delicious chicken entree for dinner, I guess I'll go back to my library of self-produced lyrics now....ha.

2012-01-05T00:59:00.001-07:00

It's a new year and I want to start it all caught up.

Aside from my many adventures in Europe that tripled (or possibly even quadrupled) my total post count, a lot has happened. But for unabridged record keeping's sake, a little re-cap:

             -TEN countries in FOUR months:
                    Scotland, Wales, United Kingdom, Ireland, France, Holland, Germany, Czech Republic, Belgium, Italy
             -SIX musicals
               Billy Elliot (twice), Mama Mia, Les Miserables, Wicked, Legally Blonde, Dreamboats & Petticoats
             -SWAN LAKE ballet
   -MADAME BUTTERFLY opera
   -COUNTLESS museums
             -ADVENTURE with my mama
   -NEW YEAR'S in HOLLAND, ST. PATRICK'S DAY in IRELAND, and GOOD FRIDAY in ROME

You would think life just couldn't get much better than that......only it does.

1. Became an officer in BYUSA. (BYU's equivalent of a student government.) This has meant an unbelievable amount of hours, but rewards in the form of great friendships, superb leadership training, fun retreat adventures, and parade inclusion.

2. Sat in the President's Box at a BYU football game. This was truly momentous; I met Elder L. Tom Perry and conversed with President Samuelson, among others, whilst enjoying fine dining.

3. Attended my very first Parachute concert. They are my absolute favorite band and after the misfortune of missing them earlier in the summer, I relished every moment.

They did a post-show jam session. Though it was great, it didn't quite make up for the fact that my sister betrayed me by getting a picture kissing Will on the cheek at the earlier concert I missed. She deserved coal in her stocking for that one.

4. Was a counselor to a group of freshmen at a leadership conference. The "Sunny Buttahs" had it going on.

5. Enjoyed a brief stint living with my sister. She thinks she's too cool for me now because she landed herself a boyfriend and is now practically Martha Stewart when it comes to cooking. I only publicly announce this in the hopes that it will win me points for another sushi night.

6. Went to a RASCAL FLATTS concert. We got there late and were frustrated with our lawn seats when a member of the crew gave us EIGHTH ROW seats. It was a total Justin Bieber movie moment, only better because it was real life and was happening to yours truly. In another life I'll thank him, and my roommate who gave her ticket to me. (She now regrets it.)

7. Went to many football games with family and friends. In fear of an uprising from the common football folk, it was as enjoyable as inside the President's Box.

8. Received tickets to General Conference in SLC.....enlightening to the core, as always. And I ran into this guy, in the flesh!

9. Attended my very own surprise party. (Thanks Brandon and Jen.)

10. Boogied in my seat at the So You Think You Can Dance 2011 tour. (The highlight of every year.) They changed it up a little this year to be even more of a production....and I'm not complaining!

Note: As always, tears were shed. Also, Jess is sublime in person.

11. Saw Parachute A SECOND TIME, but with VIP passes this time around. Well worth the $$. These guys are the greatest thing since Animal Crackers.

12. Spent the holidays at home with the people that matter most--family.

PS. I promise I don't wear that shirt every day....

And the holiday's best picture:

.....Classic.

D4K

2011-09-19T14:05:00.000-06:00

I haven't blogged in months. This time instead of having nothing to say or feeling too overwhelmed with backlogging, it's that I just haven't had time. No time to shower, no time to socialize, no time to study, nada. Life has turned absolutely crazy, and I don't even know how it happened.

Basically, I came back up to Utah and something happened:

DoForKids: I more or less started a non-profit with four of my girlfriends.

Wait.....what??

I still can't believe it's all happening. It's our version of education reform, which we think is pretty innovative and....do I dare say it.....genius. (I said it.) We just rocked a presentation to Teen Mobile so I feel so inclined as to not be modest...

In a few words, kids utilize their networks (both tangible and in the social media world) to fill out surveys for interest in our sponsors' services they use everyday (internet, cable, cellular networks, etc). They are required to pick up the call with a price estimate and the kid gets $5.....which obviously translates into a lot more money with a bigger network. That doesn't include the donation and other incentives to the school or organization, either. No obligations, just a lead call.

I spent way too much time fussing over tired products I had to fundraise for my cheer teams....and in which my mom was forced to buy entirely to meet the set quota.

I'm really proud of it. Check it out here.

Utah introductions.

2011-06-26T00:24:00.000-06:00

This little lady just graduated....and is officially all moved in.
With me. In Provo. For the summer. Oh blessed summer classes.

It's been quite fun. Everyone and their hamster asks if we are twins....and if she's older. But I'm not quite at the stage of life where that's a compliment, at least not yet. You see the problem..

She has honestly been having the time of her life. And I'm not even remotely exaggerating by saying she has gotten a surplus of attention.

Tonight one of her dates came by to see her. I was in the process of cutting a watermelon. He politely introduced himself upon hearing I was the (currently) not-so-famed older sister. So I offered my hand forward for a friendly handshake. Only I was still holding the large knife.

It was totally and completely unintentional. Of course.

All about Dad.

2011-06-19T22:22:00.003-06:00

*In a puffy black vest, jeans, ultra-durable tennis shoes, and 2+ headlamps attached to his forehead.

*In a white robe on the couch eating fancy, protein-ambushed eggs while watching the morning news.

*In pristine, ironed golfing attire and an obnoxiously big golfing club as an accessory, practicing his swing in the family room with the professionals (boringly) doing what they do on the tv screen.

*In a white lab coat and freaky magnifying glasses peering into my mouth with an odd instrument at his office.

*In my high school stadium wearing red attire and a paparazzi-status camera lens...taking flip-book like pictures while cheering/graduating.

These are the images that flood my mind regarding my dad. My sweet, can-talk-to-anyone-in-the-elevator, athlete obsessive, too-kind-to-yell-at-a-fly, and tells-his-patients-more-about-me-than-I-know-myself father. He's the absolute best. And I want to celebrate him on this Father's Day. Because he is extra special to me....and he deserves to know that.

Dad, thanks for being so supportive, loving, and generous. Thank you for specially ordering my personalized license plate HAYBAY, that I now get teased for as an aspiring young professional in the university world. Thank you for only getting truly mad at me once, that being when I destroyed my front bumper after accidentally driving into a center divider. Oops. Thank you for selflessly financing all of my worldly adventures. Thank you for shedding a tear (I can almost swear you did) at my graduation...adding to the only other two times you've cried on record in your life (while watching the movie Field of Dreams and when Magic Johnson announced he had AIDS). I guess mostly, thanks for being you. I love and adore you more than High School Musical, more than So You Think You Can Dance, and more than my mascara--which really means a lot because there are very few things in life that can compete with the three.

I love you, Dad.

And I hope you've had a wonderful, stupendous, LOVE-filled Father's Day.

xoxo.

The final chapter.

2011-06-13T18:41:00.000-06:00

Of my bragging travelogue, at least.

The biggest, baddest (the good kind of bad), and the best: Rome.

They say you could visit for two whole weeks and still not be able to see it all. I don't know who we thought we were trying to cram it into forty-eight hours. It really is overwhelming. We were running around like an episode of America's Most Wanted.

But see and experience it we did. It just wasn't on the back of a motor cycle, accompanied by a deceiving Italian pop-star, like I would have hoped....but my time will come.

Coliseum.

Roman Forum.

A taste of the local flavor.

Fountains. Highlight was the Trevi. One of the coolest things I have ever seen.

Sunset.

Spanish Steps.

Vatican.

Coliseum. Again. Only this time, I was listening to a Catholic service in Italian with the Pope. THE POPE! That's Good Friday for you.

Who's one of the luckiest girls in the world? Me.
Who's BEYOND thankful and indebted to her parents for the rest of her life? Me.
Who will remember this forever and ever? Me.
Who's done talking about it? Okay, fine. Me.

Chapter four.

2011-06-07T00:47:00.002-06:00

Two infamous phenomenons come to mind.

One, is that of Disneyland. Anytime of year. Small and crowded. Requires that you look down at the ground while walking to prevent injury from running into another body. Souvenir stands are at every light post, all selling the same merchandise. Expensive and average food--simply because they can and do get away with it. And let's not forget its standing as the mecca for classic Asian tourists. Who wear their new Mickey sweater over their old Mickey tee (the product of their last trip four years ago). We love these foreigners!

Two, is the feeling that permeates when single on Valentine's Day. You can't help but feel pathetic and lonely while watching couples seemingly smother each other with feelings. Even if you really aren't pathetic and lonely. I will not expand. We all know this feeling.
......Right? Riggghhhttt?

Venice. (More or less a combination of these two things.)

Short couples. Honeymooning couples. Terminally engaged, French couples. Pubescent couples. Red-headed couples. Asian-with-matching-visor couples. We saw couples from every stage and walk of life.

And then there was us in the middle of it all. I felt like I was intruding the romantic high by being there. Single. Like the person that shows up to a costume party without wearing a costume.

(Our wannabe couple picture.)

It was a BEAUTY.

Definitely worth feeling pathetically out-of-place for. Like when waiting in the pre-judging tryout room and watching all the other girls on-deck do their last practices--which practice or not make yours look juvenal and you'd rather back out now rather than follow them but you've already signed the contract and paid the fee. So you can't. Just can't.

(I must REALLY know this feeling.)

Ha :]

Chapter three.

2011-06-03T00:35:00.003-06:00

Movies are seriously the devil. They are one of the most detrimental devices to health I can think of. Mental health, anyhow.

1. They showcase these beautiful celebrities that appear to be perfection incarnate....causing you of course to ensue in a chase for a caliber that is completely fabricated. And thus, unattainable.

2. They make you believe it's a completely innate and natural ability for men to sweep you off your feet in some original romantic gesture including, but not limited to, freezing their butt off in oceanic waters and insisting you (as the loved one) use their own, personal raft life-line.. or breaking out in song and dance to you (their high school sweetheart) on a rooftop overlooking the "New Mexico"--but really Salt Lake--valley. How often does this really happen?

3. They make you want to go to Italy. Where dreams are made of. Where love and beauty abounds. And you feel unsatisfied until you get there, even if you are traveling to other exciting places like England....or France. They aren't Italy.

Verona.

It stole my heart. It was so quaint and charming. The perfect blend of tourist appeal and authenticity. And color.

We stayed at the Giulietta e Romeo Hotel, truly capturing the city. Shakespeare's legendary city. Though let's be honest, the only reason I really know this fact is because of Letters to Juliet.

See? It's those movies agian.

Anyways. The markets, the friendly people, the cobble-stone streets, and the letter writing to Juliet's secretaries are the real deal. I did it. And the effect all those cat-calling men have on your movie-weathered self-esteem? It's practically heaven on earth.

PS. I hope she writes me back soon.
PPS. It's fun to see your mom get checked out and hit on. SHE'S STILL GOT IT.

Chapter two.

2011-06-02T00:33:00.002-06:00

"Parlez-vous anglais?"

This is the wisdom I was given by all of my friends that had already made a weekend excursion to Paris--not to assume the French could speak my English language. If I made an effort to accommodate to their culture, they would appreciatively reciprocate.

And let's not forget about the circulating rumor that the metro system was dumpy and smelled intensely of non-artistic graffiti and urine (pretending of course that graffiti has a scent).

For the latter tid-bit of counsel, they were 100% correct. For the former, you would have thought I was obnoxiously flashing THE finger and marching around loudly to the National Anthem for merely being present. It was a definite wound to my supposed wise and well-traveled ego.

I'm not as cool, cosmopolitan, refined, wonderful, and cultured as I thought I was. Whatever.

I retaliated and eventually gave up talking much aloud at all....which is almost a good thing because in France there is almost too much to look at and take in. Such intricate details. To and on everything.

No seriously, everything.

Paris.

Versailles (below) was almost like being on a sugar high from sour razmataz at eleven at night. Talk about nuts.

Let this be a testament that Paris CAN be done in forty eight hours with no sleeping, lots of walking, and frequent stops for crepes, macaroons, and all other delicious varieties of pastry (okay, so maybe I was enjoying Versailles on a sugar high).

-Louvre
-Sacre Coeur
-Notre Dame
-Latin Quarter
-Eiffel Tower
-Arc de Triomphe
-Champs Elysees
-Seine River
-Etc.

While we were trying to capture the Eiffel Tower, one of the street vendors approached us in the hopes of pawning off his keychains for more than they are worth. Taking my new no-talking-to-French-people rule to heart, and my zero tolerance for salespeople that think overbearing persistence will win them every potential transaction, I kept trying to shrug him off. I could make a living off of ignoring someone. My mom on the other hand, blame her faulty kindness or the recent Diet Coke flooding her veins, but she was handing him over a few euros before I could say "c'est la guerre"--the only other French phrase I know. (Read here.)

He took this as grounds to flaunt a victory and consequently, I was called Lady Gaga everytime we passed him the rest of our Parisian stay (which surprisingly was quite a few times in that big city...).

Would you be a little offended?

L*sacde#@blu! I wish I had known more French phrases..

2011-05-31T23:52:00.001-06:00

You know how that ONE time I was a wanna-be European?

Oh, you did?

Well heavens......you didn't think I was done talking about it, did you?

Oh wait. You did.

                        ......this is awkward.....

Forgive my bragging. (Lula, I know you are rolling your eyes this very moment.) But this was just too good not to document. And I can't have my super stellar travel partner thinking it wasn't the best leg of the entire journey yet. Because it was!

I can't even describe to you the feelings I had while watching my mom walk down the custom's terminal to the welcoming gate. I had butterflies, like as if she was my sixth-grade boyfriend Charles Bourdon or something. It was weird. But I liked it.

London.

(I think about this orange scone & clotted cream often.)

Mumzio was game for everything. And she truly tested my walking endurance. Crazy woman.
-tea & the Enchanted Princess tour at Kensington Palace.
-a walk around Holland Park.
-Billy Elliot. (My favorite musical, I couldn't help but see it twice.)
-Harrods window shopping.
-the spots a local like myself only tries their best to avoid: Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, Big Ben, etc.
                 Totally kidding by the way.
-Tower of London.
-Burough Market.
-Mamma Mia (How appropriate. How CUTE!)
-the spots where even locals like to eat: Nandos, Paul Rhodes bakery....you get the idea.

And what would a tour of Lo-town be without saying goodbye to the place that made it all happen?
Goodbye sixty-something stair steps, one working shower, and creaky deaky floors. Goodbye bare minimum bunk bedding, breaded foods, and white alabaster skinned people. Goodbye wearing every outfit you were able to pack three times a week and having your professor walk into you sneaking a mid-night snack with no make-up on. Scary. But really, I will (AND DO) miss you.

...And that's Chapter One. I can't overwhelm my posterity now.

Once upon a time.

2011-05-17T23:03:00.002-06:00

Once upon a time I lived in a foreign place.
I met new people.
I heard new languages.
I learned new things.
I tasted new flavors.
I saw new places.

It was quite the unbelievable and if-this-is-real-please-pinch-me experience.

All too soon, it was over. And I was sitting on a plane towards home next to my long-lost mother, on a spacious middle row of seats we had to ourselves, deciding which of the available fifty or so movies I wanted to watch on my personal tv screen after a four month American-entertainment hiatus, and which (or rather all) of the indispensable snacks I wanted to order in order to enjoy it. (I vow to you with Air New Zealand....best airline EVER.)

But even with the comfort and satisfaction provided by the combination of all these elements, it was hard to be distracted from the fury of emotion raging inside of me.

-I get to finally sleep in my fluffy queen-sized bed tonight!
-(Nostalgically) I'll never go to sleep to the sound of Jamie's creaky bunk above me again.
-I can order ice, enjoy free tap water, and indulge in bottomless soft-drinks!
-Will I ever get to delight in digestives, penguin bars, and yogurt-covered bananas again?
-I get to travel with the convenience of my car!
-Now I don't have an excuse to people watch or listen to my ipod.
-I can see and talk to my family EVERYDAY!
-It's was nice to have a free pass from chores...dangit.

You get the idea.

And the conflicted feelings didn't get any easier! It was so confusing. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs and text uncontrollably with my newly re-activated phone, "I'M HOOOOOOOMMMEEEE!!!" But at the same time, I wanted to sleep for days and transform my body back into it's old, true form before I could be seen again....in public. Vanity won out in the end. I've been hiding in seclusion now for weeks. Almost like a celebrity waiting at home to recover from a nose job. Except not like that. Because obviously I'm not a celebrity. And I would much rather spend that kind of money on something more appropriate, humble, sensible, and worthy.

Like a boob job. <---JUST KIDDINGGG!!

Well guess what? I'm home. And did I gain weight from eating too much chocolate and have a freakish body reaction from the climate change? Yes. And has it been a slow, grueling process to get back to normal? You have no idea. But was it worth it? ABSOLUTELY. Especially the frequent gelato stops with Mom in Italy.

So there. Take that US magazine.

It's a pole world.

2011-04-12T16:13:00.000-06:00

When I was sixteen, I took this picture. In my mind it looked pretty aesthetically pleasing--even frame-worthy enough to be up on display in my Grammy's house. My mother & sister Lauren thought otherwise. They've made fun of me/it ever since.

I decided to do what all other good and amicable tease-ees choose to do. I ran with it; a move inspired after Regina George in Mean Girls (ya know, who continues to flaunt her shirt even after she discovers that two holes have been cut out around bust area?). She was able to start a trend. I wasn't so fortunate. But it nonetheless captured me through some major moments of my life.

Even this foreign adventure. So basically, Mom & Lu, it was like you were there with me too.

From Pole Collages_1

This semester went by so fast, it's almost unreal. Finals are over. My last papers are turned in. My bags are in the process of being packed. I've already had to say goodbye to my bunk-mate!

But I don't want to get sappy.

My mom comes in less than forty-eight hours. We are going to tear this place up in a one-of-a-kind European adventure. It's going to be grand.....and I'm looking forward to adding these pictures to the collection too..

And then I'll finally be home...and this experience will have been nothing more than a fairytale-like memory. So sad.

Muh Crib.

2011-04-11T13:05:00.013-06:00

For months I've been going to bed, looking at this sight above me.
It has been my very creaky, starry sky.

I contemplated/worried over what to contribute in print way more than I should have.
(It is an A-list, enlightened group of patrons and advice, you see.)

But considering I move out this week, I figured it was time.
So I finally did it.

And you better believe it was a big moment.
It meant I'm officially a veteran of the London Centre.

A night at the theatre.

2011-04-04T17:30:00.000-06:00

I'm in London so yes, I can snobbishly spell it like that.

I saw Keira Knightley tonight.

(And Peggy from Mad Men + Miss Baggoli from Confessions of a Teenage Drama Queen + Barbara Bush in W.)

I even waited outside the stage door with the paparazzi like some sort of freak.

Embarrassing.

But she is BEYOND beautiful.

I couldn't take my eyes off her....even as she got inside her black, window-tinted, waiting car.

Yes, just like celebrities in movies. They really do that.

Oh, the play was good too......very heavy.

She captured tragedy.

......

But I think I prefer my musicals.

An evening at Big Ben.

2011-04-02T10:37:00.001-06:00

This week we got to visit with Member of Parliament Dave Rutley.
He so eloquently talked of his political campaign, his governmental duties, and his position as the only LDS member in the House. I found it all very fascinating. It also helped that he looked like George Clooney, with a charming British accent. Because let's be honest, who wouldn't be transfixed?

Then he dropped the enlightened bomb that was exactly what I needed to hear.

These are the years that define the rest of your life.
Set a big goal now--a goal that you don't even think is possible. But just set it.

‎"You will make all kinds of mistakes; but as long as you are generous and true and also fierce, you cannot hurt the world or even seriously distress her. The world was meant to be wooed and won by youth." -Winston Churchill

Granted, this quote did come from the same man that also famously said, "I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly"......but let's try and disregard that fact.

Big goal. Woo & win the world. (I loved that personification.)

With your blessing Churchill & Rutley, I think I will. I'm not crazy. Thank you.

I do other things but walk London.

2011-04-01T16:21:00.010-06:00

I promise. But this is the final, last of the last assignments for this walking class so....please bear with me through this post. Or rather yet, just skip it. You hear me? SKIP IT!

Except you, Professor Crowe.

The Favorite Three:

1. Soho to Trafalgar Square. Mostly because it's really fresh on my mind, this walk was also downright exciting. The West End theater district, the entertainment industry hub, Soho, Chinatown, a protest in the square......they were all places I would have walked around and visited eventually before my leave anyway. The whole walk hardly felt like a class assignment. I was just an American girl out experiencing the British world--kind of like an Amanda Bynes movie.

2. Central Parks. London parks are clean and beautiful. Aerial creatures and their mechanic movements are beautiful. Springtime provides sunshine and blossoming flowers, which are extremely beautiful after this most chilling winter I've experienced. All factors combined made for a golden walk experience I'm not likely to forget. It also helped that this walk was done with Brenden & Spring, and if you haven't noticed, I quite fancy them and their presence. Since I'm feeling extra nice this evening, I'll admit that they are also quite beautiful, too. So it was the complete walking package.

3. Bankside & Southward. A walk really can't go wrong when it includes THE ultimate food mecca, also known as the Burough Market. Time has begun to wind down and I'm starting to have to think about going home and all the London things I will miss. You better believe this place and its yogurt-covered banana chips are number one, all thanks to the introduction provided by this walk. PLUS, all the "Hay" insignia surrounding the area further proved our necessary & perhaps divinely-intended friendship; you just shouldn't ignore signs.

And there you have it. Thanks Professor Crowe, you really made me prove the legitimacy of my name.

T-Con. T-Rex. Or just Trav.

2011-03-31T01:42:00.001-06:00

You can call him whatever you want, but this guy is my absolute best friend--has been for four years. Probably from the very day Junior year of high school that he walked into seminary with a fleece blanket wrapped over the entirety of his body (even his head) and sat down, acting dead for the first twenty minutes of that very early morning. I noticed movement to my left, so I looked, only to discover he was pulling out a salad mixing bowl, a full cartoon of 2% milk, and an entire box of Rice Krispies cereal. He had a feast, even managing to look a very annoyed seminary instructor in the eye after having taken her entire class' (already) groggy attention.

He finished two bowls that morning.

Two days later he walked in, late, dressed in proper school attire (without the infamous brown caribo-or-something fleece blanket). He discreetly went to grab his scriptures while the instructor continued teaching. "Rarrrrrmmmm." We all look to see where the loud sound came from. He had sounded a horn he found in the Primary's toy closet.

A few weeks later. We are driving in his car. I'm fiddling around in Angelina's (the name of his monstrous white truck, who just so happened to have just gotten some new "kicks", as he so proudly pointed out) center console, discovering all sorts of treasures like his light-up mouth "grillz" and diamond studded chains. The kid thought he was a rapper, especially on the days he wore his navy jumpsuit. But today, he was singing Michael Buble. It was a very important day. This is the day I found out Travis could sing. I tested him by choosing a few other songs on his genre-diverse ipod. Flawless on every single one. We have sung Chris Brown & Jordin Spark's duet of "No Air" in the car together ever since.

A year later. Senior year is winding down, but the final activities are just starting to gear up, including the first year of Mr. Wolfpack, which I was stressfully planning. I begged Travis to be one of the contestants (it was a male beauty pageant). I knew he would make it unforgettable. At one point, I even think I recall using blackmail....he was nervous about the talent portion. I told him to sing. And I recited his car-concert repertoire. He had it in the bag. No practice was even necessary.

He sang "Can You Feel The Love Tonight." I was so proud.

We graduated. I moved away to Utah. He moved away to Utah. I was overly depressed about this strange, new phase of life and the loss of a boyfriend that meant a lot to me. He was overly depressed about the strange, new phase of life and the loss of a girlfriend that meant a lot to him. He got me through it. I tried to do the same.

He moved back home. We both lived our separate lives and he eventually started preparing for the day I hoped would come but was dreading at the same time, his mission.

To Concepcion, Chile.

I received this in an email from him a few days ago: ".... next good story has to do with a noche de hogar (family night) we had with my favorite fam here, the Oportus'. They are hilarious. They think to speak English you just put a -tion at the end of any spanish word haha. Like to pray, orar, but to make it english they say oration. Ha oh man. Anyways, ya somehow even here in Chile they found about my singing. Yes that's no lie my friend, my singing at Mr. Wolfpack. Oh my word, thats all I have to say. Soooo..they made me sing it in front of 20 Chileans, haha it was so funny. My companion died laughing."

It's been days and I'm still dying of both laughter and nostalgia. He's the best, funniest, kindest person I've met. Amongst all the hilarious moments he's provided, he has also had some that are more mellow and sweet--like the time I was extremely sick from food poisoning and was left in charge of house sitting and two children under the age of four for a weekend. While I was doing my best to keep my head out of the toilet, he was playing Animals with them upstairs and folding the laundry. Or the time he fed my horses for a week while my family was in Hawaii. Or the time he stayed up until three in the morning quizzing me for an exam I had to take the next day. Or the time he made me the best birthday card the world has ever seen, complete with rhinestones and the Trump towers. He's a one-of-a-kind friend. And again, I'm beyond proud of him.

For those who aren't as youtube informed as the Chileans:

The magic of a bus and this continent

2011-03-30T05:29:00.000-06:00

...is that you can get on one and be in another place, cultures apart, within a few hours. Emphasis on few--we are talking like one, two, three tops. Not double digits, like the states. It's quite the luxury these Europeans get to enjoy. And that I get to enjoy, at least for a few more weeks.

Amiens, France.

It's not the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre, I realize. But it's the home to the biggest cathedral in all of Europe, charming French neighborhoods that make you want to swoon, and the Somme Battlefields of WWI. Which is just as cool.

Cathédrale Notre-Dame d'Amiens:
The head of John the Baptist is alleged to be here, a relic brought from Constantinople in the Fourth Crusade. You could see the wear and tear of time on the ceiling and walls and for whatever reason, it made the building even more beautiful. It made it real.
Why I would want to be French:
(Excluding the pretty language, fashion expertise practically a part of their DNA, and delectable cuisine). We found this area just outside the cathedral. I couldn't help but imagine a life of waking up in one of the cute, curtained homes and eating a small portion of baguette and Brie cheese with the sounds of a violin being played down the street at a nearby cafe. I'd make my way to my home design studio across the square, where I'd then boss employees around for not getting the right bolts of pretty fabrics and materials for my latest and most pressing projects, all before meeting a few darling, fabulous friends for a late lunch. You should also know that in this day-dream I had some very chic bangs....I go for the complete picture.

In Flanders Field WWI Museum:
We do have scholastic requirements. I mean, this is school. Even if everything you do seems too fun to be. This museum was one of the best, most well-done and interactive museums I've ever been to. Their use of audio and visual tracks was chilling.

This isn't intended to be a political statement, but the last room really got to me. WWI was supposed to be "the war to end all wars." In a short two decades we were fighting another, perhaps larger war. There have been over 126 armed conflicts since (as of 2008). I've had John Lennon's Imagine stuck in my head ever since (no, not the Glee version :).

The WWI 2nd British front-line trenches:
I got to walk through these! I've been to the South and visited Civil War battlegrounds. I've been to the east coast and seen sites of the Revolutionary War. But neither of those experiences compared with this. It was beyond moving. Truly an unreal experience. This was the earth that the German and British soldiers fought each other from. Where they lived with dog-sized rats and picked up all manner of diseases. Where they died. Where a lot of them are still trapped in and buried. It was one of the coolest things I've done. And I almost feel like a different person because of it, as silly as that sounds.

The entire group. It's not often we get a picture. (Notice our cute professors & their families--the Crowe's and Dursteler's. They are the best.)

Soho to Trafalgar Square.

2011-03-29T04:18:00.002-06:00

My last and final London walk. Hooray!

I didn't intentionally save the best for last. If I had, I would have thought it through a little better and made sure I wasn't the only student to do so. You see, as fate would have it, I didn't think things through and DID have to go at this walk alone--in all my Asian tourist-esque map-following glory. But this isn't me complaining. I actually quite enjoyed being able to go at my own pace.

This walk was the Jack of all [walking] trades.
Diverse. Cosmopolitan. Rousing...plus a plethora of other positive adjectives you'll only roll your eyes at because I have a problem condensing my vocabulary. But you hopefully get the idea.

It led me through the center of both the textile & fashion industries, past the Twentieth Century Fox offices, to William Blake's (the poet) birthplace, into the hub of the music and film industry (I was quite twitterpated here....), around the red-light district (which is almost nothing in comparison to that found in Amsterdam--a good thing), among the jubilee of Chinatown, and against the throng of protesters in Trafalgar Square. Eventful would be an understatement.

The highlight of the walk, I will admit, was reaching the arches of Chinatown's main street. I've been mistaken a time or two of having some sort of Asian heritage and now can't help but feel an abnormal kinship to their fun, vibrant culture. Once I was even approached and asked by a true Asian continental resident. (I probably wasn't wearing enough eye make-up that day.) Kaylee was waiting nearby for a Chinese feast we'd had planned, which was delicious though devoid of fortune cookies. I wish I could understand the unfortunate overlook...the cookie is my favorite!

fries, lace, waffles, & a little something called CHOCOLATE.

2011-03-24T19:04:00.003-06:00

Yes, I'm talking about Belgium.

The most amazing place I have visited to date.

To start, I need to address the fact that I'm starting to feel like a celebrity on tour....or something. Not because the Europeans gawk at my American presence in their streets or because I have an entourage that follows me around to make me look pretty (it's actually quite the opposite--they think we are silly & I've never felt this hygienically gross in my life), but because for the last month I've very literally been waking up each day in a different place. It's been crazy. I even woke up the other day not remembering who or where I was.

It was nuts.

Anyways. Let's talk about the quiet, quaint town of Brugge. Our introduction was made with a canal boat ride that very literally bewitched me. The canals forked all around the city center and provided the best scenery, especially of the many tall church spires reflected along the serene surface of the water. Mmm. So lovely.

The sites only got better by night. (As if that was even possible.)

You know those times when something is so physically stunning your gaping mouth can't close? Or the happy, invincible feeling you get from endorphins after running? Ya? Are we on the same page? Can you imagine what it was like to see and smell chocolatiers on every street?! It was pure bliss and torture all at the same time.

The woman at Depla Chocolatier managed to pull out ahead of the competition, beating even the experts at the Chocolate Museum (which you better believe we visited). She's a confection genius. Somehow, by some twisted miracle, I conjured up the willpower to limit myself three pieces--one of which included the truffle. It changed my life. It rocked my world. It penetrated my soul.

And I'm not even being dramatic.

The Choco-Story Museum gave us some laughs with their chocolate statue of Obama AND their frequent depictions of the cocoa bean (NOT a potato).

The next morning we woke up to sunny skies & warm weather. We rented bikes. I learned tandems aren't so easy to steer.... But we were on uneven, cobbled surfaces. And my mind was aloof on the blossoms. That's the story I'm sticking to.

Other aspects that made Brugge so great:

A. The cute man playing the accordian on the street. Yes, the accordian. My mother used to play it, too.

B. Exploring the city at night & reaping the benefits from Brenden's unsung photo-taking dexterity.

C & D. The fries & waffles. And hot chocolate, oliebollen, and croques. It's so nice to travel with these boys because they NEVER pass up the opportunity to experience the edible culture. They order everything. Which means I don't have to. They allow me a nibble. It's a great system we have worked out.

E. The evidence of spring's presence could be seen everywhere. I relished having sun shining on my face and being able to play outside in the fresh flowers without a constricting jacket on. London is still behind..

F. One of the exhibits in the Choco-Story Museum was this toy set of a dentist--the exact same lego toy set I used to play with when I was stuck at my dad's dental office for the afternoon in elementary school. It brought back a river of memories. The exact same toy! So random.

And as if our visit to this country wasn't already perfection incarnate with the included, we came across this carnival during our quick stop in Leper to visit the In Flanders Field WWI Museum. But that's a different story for a different day...

It's been said, "many an opportunity is lost because a man is out looking for four-leaf clovers."

2011-03-20T15:20:00.000-06:00

Lucky for me I only feel the need to look for those gems on St. Patty's Day (no judgment if your preferences aren't the same). Also lucky for me, I spent this year's in Ireland. So I didn't have to look very far. They were on every restaurant menu, store window, and child's painted face--including my own.

Spending this holiday in Dublin was insanely festive. They really pulled out all the stops with decorations (most buildings changed out their light bulbs for green ones!), park carnivals, street clog dancing, and the most bizarre parade I've ever experienced. I was thinking high-school marching bands and floats....but it was more like interpretive dancers in creepy, artsy costumes that seemed to last eons of times and was a lot like this (sorry Mom). Except times a thousand. I had to leave early and grab lunch before I became too disturbed.

They DO do the holiday right, though. Especially when we drove to a more village-y like place called Kilkenny and spent the entire evening circulating through their four pubs and following fighting, intoxicated couples for sheer amusement. The Irish go out hard. In fact, I was a little bit surprised that we saw so many people when out and about the next morning.

The sites here were gorgeous; though after watching movies like P.S. I Love You, would you expect anything less or different?

This trip documentation wouldn't be complete without mentioning:
1. The six-pack of apples I consumed EVERY DAY for just 79 pence.
2. The discovery of the best tv channel ever (the Vault), who played an endless amount of my childhood's most beloved music videos (that I used to record on blank vhs tapes and dance to in my bedroom for hours). So what if I still do.
3. Brenden's Abe Lincoln/Elf & Mike's Leprechaun with an Asian-Tourist-Twist costumes. The people of Dublin loved them. They were asked for numerous pictures. I felt like I was with US Magazine's most revered celebrities.
4. Brazen Head Pub and the satisfying salmon I consumed there--thank you program funds.
5. The Falling Gems game app I was introduced to and now can't put down. I always refused to allow myself to download AngryBirds, but I think this is pretty comparable in addiction potential. Download with caution.

Oh, and upon arrival we made a little stop at Guinness. (Not the world's most prestigious record keeping title--the other one.)

It all makes sense after seeing it in SO much action.

Cwtch.

2011-03-18T10:17:00.005-06:00

A Welsh word. Do not bother asking me how it is pronounced. Apparently the Welsh language feels no need for vowels, and therefore must have another winning strategy for the games of Hangman and Wheel of Fortune.
....They'd have to, right??

Just a few snippets from my recent trip to Wales:

The most savage winds I've ever encountered. We are talking human movable winds.

Monastic ruins of Tintern Abbey. Pretty, pretty. I'm not peeing my pants, in case you were curious.

Exploring cute new towns.

And fitting in the modeling work we do on the side...

*Not pictured: An excursion into the very dark shafts of Big Pitt, a coal mine. Definitely the highlight of the entire trip, mostly because a) how many people can say they've done that, and b) our 60-something old tour guide Robert was a hoot....and I developed quite the serious crush on him.

P.S. This is my 100th post! It's been an inconsistent and (I realize) a prolonged journey, but it's kind of crazy to me to think that I started this out as a sophomore in high school, hoping to someday be a Cougar at BYU.....to now being a sophomore Cougar at BYU. Ra, ra, ra, ra, ra.

Westminster and St. James's.

2011-03-17T04:49:00.001-06:00

There's something so indulging about looking at Big Ben. I haven't quite put my finger on it yet--if it's the gold anatomy, the quintessential London tourist fulfillment, or the political/aristocratic heritage of the vicinity, but it really does something for me. It doesn't even matter how many times I go to see it.

This walk takes you in a circular path around Houses of Parliament, Whitehall, 10 Downing Street (the abode of Mr. Prime Minister), Buckingham Palace, St. James's Park, and Westminster Abbey. It's basically the celebrity home tour of England. It's great fun. Sharon, Kaylee, and I (we started a walking crew if you hadn't noticed..) didn't feel like we were doing a required walk at all.

I've come to view Big Ben like one of my favorite movies that I'll never tire of. It was great this time around, and I'm sure he will be great the next ten times I walk around too, as I'm confident I will do before I leave.

Kilt.

2011-03-16T05:29:00.003-06:00

   -noun; a costume sometimes worn by Scotchmen in America and Americans in Scotland.

   Obviously it's the latter I'm talking about here--to get in touch with my Scottish heritage.

   My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here,
   My heart's in the Highlands, a-chasing the deer;
   A-chasing the wild deer, and following the roe,
   My heart's in the Highlands, wherever I go.
   -Robert Burns

Scotland is such a pretty place. Green everywhere. Endearing accents everywhere. Friendly people everywhere. Basically, happiness to be found everywhere.

According to my family history, I'm practically royal. Mary Queen of Scots is (or was?) my great, great, great, greattttt-something grandmother, ergo you could say I'm kind of a big deal.

I'm totally kidding. But seriously, I felt a deep kinship to this place. The name Walker was everywhere and considering I spent my entire life relentlessly being told I came from outer space (the UFO one), I found comfort and identity being among my true people.

   .........You can excuse my obvious exaggeration.

I just really did have a lot of fun. Especially when Blake & Ramzi were man enough to embrace their inner-Mel Gibson/William Wallace and when I got to see my resemblance to the nine-month-old grandmother queen.

(the Edinburgh Castle.)

We also had the opportunity to stop in New Lanark, a cotton mill of the 18th, 19th, & 20th centuries. I toured the factory, their small homes, learned of the conditions of daily life. It was an eye-opener. And to think that even this, which appeared pretty bleak to my vain eyes, was the utopia that people of the working class status could only dream of being so fortunate of arriving to (thanks to the philanthropoist Robert Owens). Small one-bedroom homes for a family of six children. Working hours of 5am-8pm. A childhood spent not playing, but working. Crazy. But I didn't mean to turn this into a history lesson...

As the Scottish say, aye.

P.S. I should mention that these aren't my pictures. Thanks, Brenden!

Kew to Hammersmith.

2011-03-15T15:27:00.001-06:00

I'll be honest, this wasn't my favorite. The last three-fourths walking through an American-like suburban housing development and the much too prolonged stroll down the less commercial parts of the Thames River were disappointing. However, I did make three fairly important observations.

1. The area around Kew station is where I would chose to live, if by some odd miracle of fate I had the chance to do that here. It's the perfect place; it's far enough from the busy parts of the city but close enough to still be in the city, if that makes sense. There was an artsy, almost small-village like vibe about it that was only enhanced with its presence of young couples and families wandering into the charming family-run stores.

2. Kew is an interesting name. How do names and words come about anyway? How do languages emerge into the established systems they become? I mean, Chinese calligraphy makes sense. They drew pictures of what they saw. But words. Kew. Hammersmith. Haley. It's like I'm seeing these for the first time. It's weird.

3. Anything, and I really mean anything, can be made into a good time when someone runs into a pole unexpectedly. Kaylee, acting again as the leader, was looking at her book to brush up on coming directions when she walked right into one. We all stopped, not really sure if it had really happened, but then got caught up in five-minutes worth of rolling laughter. You should have someone try it. It was great fun, for us observing at least.

Regent's Park.

2011-03-14T15:13:00.001-06:00

"Mind over matter." That's what I had to keep telling myself when this walk started out with a hike up the only fraction of elevated land to be found in this great city. There was a man doing his cardiovascular regimen up and down it, wheezing like a man about to die, so you can understand my initial qualms. I booked it to the top, probably giving the man a run for his money, (maybe), but only because I wanted to get the ordeal over with and eat my pb&j atop Primrose Hill, overlooking a pretty stellar panorama view. I had never realized until looking across that fine landscape of green and blue that all the major elements of the city are that close close to each other. The subway is a tricky work of magic; it totally threw off my perception of space. I can easily walk everywhere my heart so desires and squeeze some of my own exercise in, while also.....this is a tangent. Moving on.

I really enjoyed this walk. It took us through a cute, trendy shopping area (where rumor has it, Jude Law resides) and through the beauties of Regent's Park, which made me quite reminiscent of my days in Central Park (the New York one) simply because it had a little something to offer to everyone, besides the obvious satisfaction in walking. Is that a run-on sentence? Sorry. There was a boating house, open theaters, duck ponds, football fields (the soccer version), and a zoo. I would have said they only needed to add an ice-skating rink to be complete, but truth is, I really enjoyed the sight of the first spring flowers blooming in Queen Mary's Park. The last portion led us through a posh neighborhood, which I'm about 74 and a half % positive is where they filmed The Parent Trap. Maybe 75 and a fourth % positive.

I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.

2011-03-13T16:13:00.004-06:00

The program gave us one week to go and do whatever we so desired.
I chose to backpack my way through the more subtle/less romanticized areas of Europe that I otherwise probably would have never had the opportunity to see.

Germany & the Czech Republic. It was one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.

Berlin.

The flight was an adventure in and of itself, dealing with the super strict packing regulations of such a cheap airline (that being Ryanair). Everyone in our program came back with horror story after horror story of liquids being thrown away, having to pay an exorbitant amount for an extra bag, wearing four layers of pants, etc. I had the good fortune of being paired with a TSA (do they call them that here?) agent that was blonde and in his young twenties. He took me to the side and was like, "okay, here's the deal. Your plastic bag is too big. They were about to throw everything away before I took it so hurry and put it in your bag before they see!!"

I wish I had a phone number to give. I knew right then and there that it was the foreshadowing omen of a good trip.

In our efforts to find something to eat for dinner at eleven at night, we found instead a kareoke bar. Perfect for Mike's birthday. The TERRIBLE male attempt at singing "I Want It That Way" by a german/asian Backstreet Boy meant we couldn't resist going in. And okay.....I guess I wanted the opportunity to show my perfected "Oops I Did It Again" number too. Completed with the music video dance, I'll have you know.

It was crazy to walk through a city that in some ways, still seems to be recovering. Checkpoint Charlie, and the Brandenburg Gate were surreal experiences.

More than anything though, when I think of Berlin, I think of the surprising urban culture. The graffiti art was insane. I wrote my name on the Berlin Wall with the only thing I had-- black nail polish. Actually, I did it twice because it turned out really sloppy the first time around and I couldn't accept that as my debut/legacy. Spring's still looked better than mine.

Prague.

I kid you not, the prettiest place I've ever been in my entire life. It trumps everything these eyes have ever seen--even Nick Lachey's face. I would be walking on narrow cobblestone roads that would be surrounded by the most intricate, old buildings that would then open up into these gorgeous squares with eclectic covered markets and have my breath taken from me. Literally.

It was untouched/unruined during the wars, which is pretty incredible considering it is surrounded by the key European players of the day.

That night we couch surfed at a stranger's apartment--a new experience for me. His name was Martin. He was about fifty-five and was a Czech research scientist/possible spy. His place was like some place straight out of That 70's Show. He spoke German, English, Dutch, and Czech. He could read Braille. He wore bell-bottoms and old, wool sweaters. He had a blind son. We accidentally came across naked pictures of him as a child in the 1,939,398 photo albums he had kept in the apartment, at our disposal to peruse through. Brenden wore his clothes to dinner.

Munich.

What would a trip to Germany be without visiting Dachau, a concentration camp.
It was so eery. You couldn't help but feel disgusting, dark, and heavy.
The gas chambers. The cramped beds. The cold! The cremation ovens. I'm literally baffled that people could be so cruel....and that the Jewish people could be so brave and enduring to face it.

We also took a train up into the mountains to see Neuschwanstein Castle--the castle that Disney modeled after! It was King Ludwig's project/obsession....it made him so crazed that he even committed suicide during it's construction. And I was there! And I saw why. I felt like a princess and wanted to climb to the top of the tower and let my hair down.

Like, oh-my-valley-girl yes, it was the best week of my life ever. I can't say enough good things about it, the places, or the people I was with. It made for oodles of lasting memories, not limited to:
-a photo shoot in the futuristic subway systems of Munich.
-the german television we fell asleep to.
-an endless consumption of Haribo candy. (I'm a fan.)
-walking more than I ever have in my life.
-passing out on trains & buses.
-Goulash soup.
-a great, ending-celebratory German feast.
-lots of group cuddling.
-the very confusing Czech koruna.
-the very confusing language barriers in general.
-an attack of gypsies.
-too many bratwurst wieners.
-kofola, the communist rival of coca-cola.
-"NEIN!" to a charging chicken.
-having the back of my heels rubbed raw from inadequate socking.
-wearing the same outfit EVERYDAY.
-being treated to the first nice meal I've had in months, by Mike's family friends. (Thank you!)
-the scary witch dolls that came to life.
-feeling cool by saying "danke", the only German word in my repertoire.

Time is fleeting.

2011-02-24T12:00:00.001-07:00

I just realized that in exactly two months time I'll have just woken up from a night's slumber in my own bed (considering I'll probably be sleeping in....killing off jet-lag).

Whakaskjdfhlkhjnmelkejhlcviukjzhxduie??!!!??!

Where does time go? How does it pass SO fast? Do I have grey hair yet?

......but it's then that I'll ask for pork chops and applesauce from my mother and a banana creme pie from my Grammy--for breakfast. And I'll probably eat them in a bubble bath. Because I miss all the above that much.

And then this will be followed by some cuddling and a catch up on the latest chick-flicks AND a ton of text messaging.

Oh, and an Easter hunt...thrown somewhere in the mix.

........................................................................

So then I'll realize going home wont be so bad--at least for like the first four days. Ha.

Dear Sisters,

2011-02-22T05:59:00.015-07:00

I've finally finished my Sisterhood duty and sent off the Vest (capitalized for proper noun status). It's about a month and a half over the allotted time, specified in our Traveling Sisterhood rules--and I'm truly sorry.

I must say we had a lovely time together in London.....and it will definitely be different/hard/sad without the shelter of her little corset-like fit around my body in the new places I visit.

But.....she will probably appreciate the warm vacation she's headed for to see Miss Emily Ure.
I made sure my last words to her at the post office were Aloha.

Signed,
Lena.

P.S. It's very possible that I found my own Greek-like man--just saying. I was really worried about that when I came up empty-handed last round. Just kidding.

Loves.

Time for Spring.

2011-02-20T08:56:00.002-07:00

I feel rude for not already having made a formal introduction.
This is my best gal pal in London, Spring. Or Springy Springstein, if you'd rather.
She's the greatest and we just have a...what's the word.....connection. Of course, when your friendship started out the way ours did, it would be impossible not to.

To tell this story I probably need to fill you in on some facts. Some quite personal facts. I hope it doesn't turn you off, but they are essential to our story.

1. I've had a very active digestive system my entire life. I'm talking very healthy.
2. It stops being so thriving the minute I leave home, whether it be for school, vacations, study abroad programs--you name it.
3. I once went a few weeks without so much of peep from it. Weeks.
4. Leaving home to live my life has become quite the complicated, uncomfortable problem, as you must now guess.
5. (Totally unrelated..) I didn't know any of the girls in the program. I knew a boy, Brenden, but that largely did not count. They aren't there for you to solve boy drama problems, introduce you to yummy penny candy and minstrels, talk about diets, and aren't nearly as pretty to look at--all of which Spring Springstein is.

So I arrived in London having already been abroad in the Netherlands for a week. My digestive buddy had been hiding even before that week, almost pouting that I was getting ready to leave home again for a place much farther away. I had confided to my mom in an email about my troubles. She was very sympathetic and worried about my dilemma. She didn't want me to look big in my pictures, you see, so she prescribed me a long list of laxatives.

I had told my mom I would skype with her about all my adventures in the Netherlands in detail the minute I landed and settled in London. It was six o'clock at night and I found someone that said she'd accompany me to the McDonalds, as the internet connection in our house wasn't so great. We walked down the street and settled in a booth, admiring the classiness the Europeans add to this American chain with their silk blouses and bow-ties, not to mention the daisy vases at every table. It was impressive.

I signed online and was a little bummed that I didn't think to bring my earphones because I realized it was REALLY loud in there. My mom had to shout so I could hear her. She's such a good communicator. We finish the conversation of my Dutch escapades and then she shouts "Have you been able to P-O-O-P yet?" just as the entire restaurant goes quiet, as if they all secretly had a pact to take a bite of their Big Macs at the same time and embarrass me to the absolute extreme in front of my new, prospective friend. I wanted to die. I looked at Spring to see if by some miracle she hadn't heard. She's looking at her feet trying to stifle laughter.

We've pretty much been the best, most divinely bonded friends ever since.

And I adore her.

Plus she looks like she could be in Twilight.

Bankside & Southward.

2011-02-20T08:56:00.000-07:00

Any activity (or in this case, walk) can be a good time with the right attitude. But want to know how to make one that begins with a cold, constant rainfall and a closed tube station that forces you to take an unchartered parallel route the first forty minutes, the best day of your week?

Include the Borough Market.

Really, it's that simple.

This market was on the south bank of the Thames Rover alongside the likes of the Tate Modern, Shakespeare's Globe, Southwark cathedral, and Hay's Galleria (named in honor of me, of course). It was the most appetizing and attractive display of wholesale fruits, vegetables, artisan breads, pies, jams, desserts, and too-many-to-name dishes these eyes have ever laid sights on. I thought I had drowned in a puddle and come back to life again--it was heaven.

I like to think I made my food connoisseur sister proud. I tasted every sample. I devoured a pork sandwich at eleven o'clock in the morning as an early lunch. I indulged myself in a fresh orange, apple, and banana juice drink and yogurt-covered banana chips (to die for, by the way). I even had a bite of Ramsey's kangaroo burger, which I think isn't even legal. You heard me.

(I don't know why we didn't get pictures of the good stuff...)

We finished the walk with a near full-belly waddle over the Tower Bridge, which wont be stopping me from going back every Saturday morning from here on out. (It's been nine hours and I'm still mad at myself for not getting the Seriously Hot salsa and my own bag of yogurt-covered banana chips. Hmph.)

It's all in the face.

2011-02-20T08:55:00.002-07:00

My mother didn't really teach me that--duh.

(Also, credit to Brenden O'Neal for the picture. I wish it was mine.)

Lambeth & South Bank.

2011-02-20T08:55:00.000-07:00

It's not very often that Lady Sunshine likes to make an appearance in these parts. In fact, I think it was in the prep class that I was told to only expect twenty-one hours of sun in the whole month of February. Yeah.

Well, She came out on this day. I even got to take my my coat off--yes, outside! It felt like Christmas cheer (in a non-cold/snowy way).

It was GLORIOUS, especially when alongside the river embankment, opposite Big Ben, Somerset House, and Cleopatra's Needle. I'd have to say, it was probably my favorite walk of all time.

Prominent events of the walk:
1. Getting up-close & personal with the London Eye.
2. Spotting the first (and probably only drinking fountain in England--same goes for trash cans, root bear, toilet-seat covers...actually, probably just toilets period, and Crystal Light packets, in case you were wondering.)
3. Finishing the estimated 90-minute walk in only forty-five minutes, all thanks to the best walk leader Kaylee. I may have broken a bit of a sweat at one point.
4. Seeing everything from the opposite side of the river.
5. Feeling like home while passing through a skate park next to the BFI Southbank Theatre. The graffeti in that den was pretty sweet; I would have taken a picture if A. Kaylee wasn't so athletically endured and B. I didn't feel like I'd get beaten up by a skater for doing so.

Central Parks.

2011-02-19T17:09:00.000-07:00

Brenden, Spring, and I decided to take this stroll through four of London's royal parks on the quintessential Spring-like morning that was Thursday, before class. (Spring-like in the sense of both the season AND the person :) We couldn't have planned it better. Everyone was out and mingling for an early lunch hour enjoying the sun-rays reflected on the pond waters, which allowed for some worthwhile people watching. The birds and ducks were plentiful and friendly, enjoying every moment of the wheat attention they were getting. Brenden was encyclopedia-worthy with all the avifauna mating protocol he provided in conversation, which was more than I ever learned in my freshmen biology class. And as if the feathered birds & bees talk wasn't engaging enough, we rounded the area of Buckingham Palace just in time to watch the Changing of the Guard and catch bits of an Iranian protest going on at Hyde Park corner. It was definitely the most interesting walk I've been on. I gained an overdue appreciation for living just across the street from one of these pretty parks, and discovered more of it than I probably would have otherwise (i.e. the Peter Pan statue--a highlight).

Those Romans.

2011-02-19T15:09:00.000-07:00

Today I was in the V&A museum looking at an impressive collection of Roman sculptures (this one in my non-art educated particular, was the tender favorite) when I remembered the last time I was looking at similar carvings.

I was in the Ceasar's Palace hotel in Las Vegas with my family. We were waiting in the shopping mall there for our dinner reservation at the Cheesecake Factory. I was about thirteen or fourteen, and was still being closely followed by my sister two years younger. To save you from the math, that would put her at around eleven or twelve--somewhere around 4th or 5th grade.

I was looking at a Roman statuette. I really liked the marble, I guess.

Okay, maybe I'm lying. I had just finished my Sex Education class and didn't know what to make of all the inconceivable facts I had just been told, the ones that very nearly flipped my whole world upside down. To my horror, Mackenzie shows up at my side and catches me in this very deplorable act. I was thirteen/fourteen so I knew by then that when things of that nature showed up, I was to avert eye contact and keep walking. I knew that. I was ashamed and uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do.

She looks at me, and then the statue. She proceeds to look back and forth a few times more. Then she turns to me a final time and says,
"Is that where lettuce comes from, Hay?"

Roman sculptures at Ceasar's Palace are different than the Roman sculptures at the V&A museum...

Fleet Street & St. Paul's.

2011-02-19T13:47:00.000-07:00

This walk was a teaser. It started with the striking St. Paul's cathedral and lead us up and away to a plethora of other churches that albeit charming, weren't nearly as comparable. As the old centre of London's printing and publishing industries, this western section of the city was highly commercial, brilliantly incorporating the grizzled buildings responsible for the area's traditional reputation and the new buildings of a more diverse economic sector. I imagine it's quite a fun game for the city planners to find innovative ways to work around such historical construction. Other notable sites were the private, residential neighborhood we stumbled into while lost, Shakespeare's Blackfriars Playhouse (an indoor theatre that was unusual for the time), and the funky Blackfriar Pub (the only one in the city decorated in the art nouveau style)--to name just a few.

Elise, our fearless leader, in front of Dr. Johnson's house--he wrote a dictionary.

working on my fitness.

2011-02-08T16:32:00.000-07:00

It takes 68 steps to get to my very America's Next Top Model-esque room.

68 steps. Sixty-eight!

It doesn't matter that I've already had one month's practice under my belt, I'm still huffing and puffing by the time I make it to my haven of bunk beds. I have re-think every trip to the bathroom (one flight down), or the classroom (three flights down), or the servery (five flights down).

At least I re-think every mid-afternoon or night snack.

And I'm just thankful I don't have to climb the ladder flight of stairs to the top bunk.

faces.

2011-02-08T15:25:00.000-07:00

Can you imagine having your head lacerated by this face?

Shoot. Can you imagine having your head lacerated at all?

I can't. Bless the souls of all those that fell under that fate. Whether they were truly guilty of treason or just a helpless pawn in the game of politics, like Lady Jane Grey. No one deserves such cruelty.

I mean, this face is cruel and creepy enough.

Like....what is that? An elephant trunk for a nose AND a cleft lip/palate?

toooiiilllleetttt.

2011-02-04T11:24:00.000-07:00

If you literally want to LOL/LMAO, you have got to read this.

Her name is Jamie and she's my bunkmate on this here study abroad. The told tale is classic.

you [can't] call me Di.

2011-02-04T07:50:00.001-07:00

Have you ever been to afternoon (herbal) tea?

Well I have. It was quite the event. I got all dressed up in my fancies for my inauguration at Kensington Palace (that's Princess Diana's old abode for you non-familiars). I was on my best behavior so I wouldn't disappoint her in the spirit world.

I mean, I really tried to bring on my inner Di. I even did the raised pinky (not shown, obviously), which is kind of a big deal for me since I have a thing about hands. Don't ask. But I totally do.

Anyways, it turns out there is a glitch with the little finger shananigans (I knew I didn't like it) when trying to balance a full cup of tea....it defies the laws of gravity. I quite honestly spilled my tea everywhere and had to use the plates from my scone and lovely pastries, the jam dish, and sugar packets to create an artistic pattern of sorts to disguise the wet mess.....then I got out of there real fast. I'm sorry Di, I really am.

Double Dream Hands.

2011-01-28T15:26:00.002-07:00

Musically I like a little bit of everything. I don't confine myself to one genre....so don't judge me for this all of you musical sophisticates. I'm feeling a little vulnerable about this one.

This band has been on my list for awhile now. I have a massive crush on Will, the lead singer. I've done Wikipedia on him and the works....and I follow their youtube channel, where I anxiously await their new post every Wednesday. I'm probably a step below a stalker, if I'm being honest.

Anyways, this week's episode definitely did not disappoint. I'm one hundred and fifty-four times more sure I need to be best friends with them.

(They are the boys....minus the old goof. Duh.)

Shoulder, chin, shoulder shoulder, shoulder...Pat. Pat. Pat. The true dance of champions.

Inns of Court

2011-01-28T14:39:00.003-07:00

Spring and I were rather drawn to the regal-ness of this walk's name. (Okay, and the fact that it is also estimated to be the fastest may have something to do with it too....just maybe. Though if this was the case, Mother Nature sure had her way of bestowing justice upon us--it was freezing this day.) Doesn't the name just seem grandeur and historically significant? Well that's because it is, in London's purest form. This walk celebrates the four Inns in London, one to which every lawyer (or "barrister" as the Brits call it) must be a member to. In days long past, let's say like 14th century, they use to house, school, dine, and ecclesiastically uplift all their members--now they act mainly as professional law offices. I wish I had known this while walking, but the textbook seems to think I am some sort of historical protege....which I clearly am not. Instead we were left to make up our own tid-bits of information to suffice our curious minds and avert thoughts regarding the cold.

It was quite a ball for the two of us.

This street was named after Milford, or "Aunt Millie" as the barristers of the late 19th century used to call her. She and her husband owned a bakery in this exact spot and provided special pastries and pies for the young, budding scholars close by. There is good evidence that she frequently rewarded the boys at Lincoln's Inn with a few free extras (they are my own personal preference too).

This is the elaborately decorated light post that Aunt Millie magically enchanted to provide cups of hot cocoa to Lincoln advocates (like us!) on the day she was executed by the uprising barristers of other Inns who caught onto her favoritism. Did I mention yet that she was a rather gifted witch? Well, she was.

I wish I had more pictorial documentation of the other fabulous tales we told; there was a rather clever one regarding a unicorn trapped inside a trinket unknown in the Old Curiosity Shop, where Aunt Millie derived her power. (It's also the place where Charles Dickens was inspired for his novel. I don't think he has ever skipped a beat.)

And this is a more serious picture of me by the Royal Court of Justice. There is no room to embelish details here; I was afraid of being accused of libel and being sentenced to death....I think British historical literature may or may not be influencing these darker thoughts.

Anyhow, I'm sorry this walk AND this post are so weird. We just thought we'd mix it up a little. I was really impressed with the Inns of Court, even causing this once law school-minded student to rethink her decision (for a moment, at least).

Oh, and in case you were wondering, Spring did manage to get her magic cup of hot cocoa in the end. She was quite a happy girl.

Fin.

show me the color.

2011-01-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

Why is it that the foods that go through the least amount of artificial processes, (which you would think would require less labor and funds for supplemental ingredients), and aren't nearly as tasty, cost the most money?!

It's the anomaly of my ages.

I need to be more healthy all you cranky market price-deciding people.

....I kind of have the American reputation at stake.

Here's the gossip.

2011-01-25T13:03:00.002-07:00

I was instructed to look at the November issue of my church's magazine the Ensign. President Monson's talk from the October General Conference to be exact.

Lo and behold who do I see smiling at me as the representation of all missionaries across the world right now?

THIS boy. And THAT boy. Who's also HERE boy. (forgive my adolescent freshmen giddiness) ....basically the companion of my entire first semester at school.

So funny. You would be the handsome, dapper young man they chose to appear alongside the president of the church, Elder Jorgensen.

And I'm honored to say I dated you.

Blimey.

2011-01-24T14:37:00.000-07:00

Those Norman architects really knew what they were doing.

I think I could sit, stand even, all day in wonder at this beauty.

How did they construct it all?

And why don't we (ya, I'm referring to our generation) do more of it?
I'm sure with the technologies of our day it could be done like five hundred and seven times faster.

I'm just saying.

I always wanted a band.

2011-01-24T14:34:00.000-07:00

And if I had one, our album cover would look something like this.

(Brenden and Spring)

The unity of the leather-like material we are all wearing pretty much says it all.

The City (East).

2011-01-24T14:30:00.000-07:00

Yes, another one. My apologies.

This walk started out at the Tower of London and proceeded into the financial hub of London, including the immaculate Lloyds and Royal Exchange buildings. I felt very at home because it was reminiscent of my summer spent in New York stalking young professionals on Wall Street at lunch time. (Funny I never mentioned that before.) I think this helped my case as the walk's co-leader, alongside Jamie. I taught them the ways of business flirtation, though we weren't very successful in Leadenhall market. If the men weren't enough to make me return, the first Mexican restaurant I've seen since my arrival AND a Ben's Cookies will.

Don't panic, Mom.

With somewhat defeated egos, we decided to throw our "serious" young adult personas aside. This is what resulted in the glory of St. Lawrence Jewry Church. We had to ask a young professional for assistance.

The walk continued past the St. Mary-le-Bow Church, the old garlic district, merchant houses, and the Great Fire of 1666 monument.

The closed passage at Wren City Church caused some confusion, but a young professional redeemingly helped us on our way, where we were able to return to the tube station as happy walkers.

Haley the Walker. Ha.

Westbourne Park Station to Notting Hill.

2011-01-24T08:28:00.002-07:00

I ventured out one morning to complete this walk with the lovely Lyse and Heather. Always equipped with some bag of tricks, they decided to do it backwards and therefore end the pleasurable afternoon with the familiarity of Portobello Road. Considering they'd already done this feat once or twice, I allowed my consent of such rule bending.

Always trust your inner conscience.

......

You see where this is going, don't you.

We came across some beautifully constructed swanky Victorian neighborhoods. (I like to romanticize they are also the influence of my dearest Queen Vicky.) The varying pastel colors of adjoined houses made me giddy, similar to how I react in the presence of the marshmellow, gummy, and chocolate-y hues of The Sweet Factory. It also further confirmed my belief that the English should be responsible for architecture all around the world. These people really are on to something.

Then we reached the mecca that is Portobello Market on a Saturday morning. Glorious. Stands and tents of all shapes and smells extended until the horizon my short 5"3' frame provided. I expected to see Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant come walking out hand-in-hand at any moment.

It didn't happen. But I have not given up on finding that bookshop and red door.

Eventually as the sugar munchies wore on Lyse and Heather, as they seem to always do, we stopped at a cafe for lunch. It was the bad omen of things to come. After waiting for what seemed hours for their hot chocolate, we decided to just leave.

And then we got lost.

No longer peeved, I'll refrain from much more venting and allow positiveness to prevail.

The confusion caused by the outlying District and Circle tube lines and the literal three back-and-forth rides we had before discovering the yellow brick home, gave us the opportunity to see the stark contrast of the more "project" aspect of town.

Words to the wise, backwards is backwards for a reason.

Bloomsbury.

2011-01-19T17:36:00.003-07:00

For part of the SA program, we are required to do these certain twelve Lo (that's what I'm calling it from here on out) walks and then report on them. So Professor Crowe, this one goes out to you.

This was the first walk around London that I tried to tackle--Bloomsbury, not to be confused with blueberry, which I personally have found hard to differentiate. After too many horror stories from my fellow mates about getting lost for two hours and getting stalked by creepy blokes in Diagon-like alley ways (I'm praying you appreciate my new British slang), I was prepared for the longest morning (and possibly afternoon, if all H-E-double hockey sticks broke loose) of my life.

But it was British bliss. It set a high precedent, one that beat out even eating chocolate pastries and taking naps on the train in being labeled my new favorite pastime.... You’d think I was kidding.

The truth is, it’s so easy to get absorbed in Timeout’s 100 Things You Must See in London, that I’ve overlooked the real reverie of this extraordinary place--the history and breathtaking architecture found in every last nook and cranny.

This walk led us into a good one hour homework power session in the British Museum, through the glorious exterior Georgian architecture surrounding Bedford Square (plus some others I can't quite remember the names of...), lunch and window shopping in the shops of Brunswick Square, and a Kodak moment in front of the home of Charles Dickens-- just as a few highlights. Though the walk led through some handsome residential districts, after awhile it started to become repetitious so I really found the last fourth of the walk through obscure alley ways and neighboring traditional pubs like Queen's Larder to be especially appealing.

I guess they really knew what they say, save the best for last.

(The group in front of Dicken's humble London abode.)

the power of love.

2011-01-19T16:20:00.000-07:00

Queen Victoria has always been my favorite royal. Her story about coming to the throne at the age of eighteen has always been a go-to girl power thought of mine when feeling less than mediocre.

But I just discovered that Queen Vicky is even cooler than I thought.
In fact, she's practically rocking my London world.

She's responsible for emphasizing the role of family in the UK. Her displays of public affection with King Albert and her outings with her children changed the face of the royal family and familial social ques in Britain forever. I also think it's pretty great that she was humble enough to share her work with her husband--something not everyone in power would be willing to do. You know, from my experience of holding power.....joke.

But the best part? Not only did she have his clothes and shaving kit laid out every day after his death, she had every fence in London painted black for his funeral.

To which they are still painted black in memory of her mourning to this day.

....now isn't that romantic?

This is completely mental.

2011-01-16T14:24:00.001-07:00

I'm in London. Or rather, living in London.
Like.....I'm pretty sure this year couldn't get any better for me?

And what's even better?
I got to make a pre-London voyage to the Netherlands for the new year.
Someone pinch me.....please.
I never thought I'd get the opportunity to see the Dowlings again.

Parting isn't an easy thing..

2010-10-19T23:28:00.001-06:00

...unless what you are giving up is for an iPhone.

It's maybe one of the greatest inventions of all times (besides skinny jeans and George Foreman grills).

I.LOVE.MY.IPHONE.....but it came at a price. And not just the $200 + $100 Verizon cancellation fee.

No, it was a sentimental price of voicemail messages of days long past.

This probably isn't the right and proper forum to be admitting this....but what the heck. Maybe I'm doing a service to everyone by disclosing that I do it too....(Nod with a yes).

No longer will I have the following to resurface every few months for re-saving approval and make me crack a nostalgic smile when trying to check the missed call from my gloomy credit card company:

1. Grandma singing me "Happy Birthday" two years ago.
2. Boyfriend #1 using his "smaushy" voice and telling me he couldn't wait to see me later that day.
3. Boyfriend #2 talking quietly under the covers so his parents wouldn't get mad that he called me so late. (How Taylor Swift is that?)
4. Aunt expressing her love and appreciation for stopping by for the weekend with some friends.
5. Boyfriend #3 awkwardly explaining why his call dropped. (We had just started dating...hence the need to clarify such a tragedy, let's be clear.)
6. Boyfriend #2 making his last call to me for two years before his mission.
7. Boy #4 upset that I left for school without saying goodbye.
8. Boy #5 Asking me out on a lunch date after my mother so nicely left my number on a napkin at the restaurant.

If you count correctly, that's a voicemail saved from every boyfriend. Every boyfriend I've ever had. Every boyfriend I've EVER had over the past four years.

I'm a sentimental creature, okay?

Each marked a tender stage of my adolescence.

.......

But now I'm twenty. Yup, twenty. And with twenty came my iPhone. And with my iPhone came a new, fresh voicemail system. And with this new voicemail system came no more annoying screen icons to get rid of by checking voicemails and pressing four to save. And with no option to press four to save came no way to save those eight voicemails any longer.

So if I'm doing my math correctly (if A=B & B=C, then A=C), with twenty came no way to save those eight voicemails.

Why does twenty have to be so vindictive to me?

Oh, oh. Because twenty begins a new decade: the decade of decisions, which CAN'T involve any wistful, over-saved, boyfriend-filled memories of fun.

But you want to know why I'll be okay?

......because I have my iPhone.

.....and I can probably find an app for that.

2010-08-15T01:28:00.000-06:00

Nothing of much worth to say...except that summer is coming to a close and this may be the funniest thing I have ever seen.

Can someone invent the time machine for me--please?

2010-07-14T14:27:00.001-06:00

It's the end of my Manhattan stay and I can't believe it. I spent the last eight months anticipating my eventful summer in the city and BAM! Just like that it's passed. Life really does pass by faster as you grow older.

Mom flies in tonight to help me pack up and to hopefully help decelerate/prolong my last forty-eight hours here. (I think our best bet is to just jam-pack ourselves with activities and dessert!) I've missed her SO much. Not to mention, I've always thought this experience would be so much more special if I could spend/share (at least part of it) with the people that mean most to me.

With that said, I couldn't feel any more love and gratitude for the friendships that I made here. I didn't anticipate meeting such great people. (More than that, I would have never guessed that I'd be willing to even give up the golden coast in order to not leave them!) I'm a lucky girl, to say the least. Honestly, it sort of feels like graduation all over again....and we all know how nostalgic and hard that was for me. But I'm learning that that's what life is all about. Chapters and sections. Converging beginnings and endings.

I suppose the most important part in coping with the next transition to my new chapter of life is to remember all that I learned and gained in this. I learned a tremend-stinking-ous ton. About my myself, about people, about community, about education, about business, and about culture. Plus, with the help of the many museums I visited, I now know more about Swarovski crystals, Couture gowns, the American woman, our Founding Fathers, Picasso & Van Gogh, the Japanese culture, ancient Egyptian/Mesopotamian culture, the evolution of weapons and arms, and the Korean Wars, than I ever thought possible. And no, the Museum of (substitute the verb meaning the act of intimate behavior here) was not included in my travels. But you do have to appreciate New York for it--it truly does have a museum or store for everything.

Anyways...here's to saying "bye"....because I refuse to believe in the absoluteness of "GOOD" bye. I'll be back people!

P.S. There's a piece of the Yellow Cardigan in there somewhere.

New York: I love you.

2010-07-07T11:04:00.002-06:00

Okay....confession? I think I was destined to be a city girl.
There, I said it.

All those meals I hated myself for eating super fast...
All those friends that used to get annoyed with my abnormally fast walking pace (especially considering I'm such a munchkin) at the mall...
Never learning to surf..
My tendency to be busy, busy, busy...
Etc, etc.

I now get it. I was born on the wrong coast!

(Let's not talk about the fact that I only have two weeks left.)

The good news? Brooke is coming to visit me tomorrow. I've been planning our itinerary for weeks!

Other good news? I finished the Gossip Girl series....which means Melody now has to watch High School Musical for me.

The icing on my summer cake? I found out this week that after this NY parade, a quick stop in Nashville, and few days in Las Vegas, I AM GOING TO HAWAII! Man, sometimes it all seems too good to be true.

Pneumonia.

2010-07-01T09:40:00.002-06:00

No...I don't have it.

Pneumonia. Pneu-monia.

The word annoys me. I read the word and then can't verbally say it aloud because it tends to trick me. (Think Derek Zoolander not being able to turn left) I personally find the pronunciation so misleading.

PNEUAmonia.

Nope, not any better.

As if.

2010-06-25T12:00:00.003-06:00

AS IF it doesn't kill me that I'm missing this season of SYTYCD...

AS IF it doesn't kill me that my home is so far away...

AS IF it doesn't kill me that I haven't seen my sisterhood and mission friends in months....

AS IF it doesn't kill me that I'm in the fashion capital of the country and don't have the money for any of it...

AS IF it doesn't kill me that the girls here are twig skinny and I don't have the body for the clothes anyway...

AS IF I don't mind the fact that I haven't had a home-cooked meal in weeks...(ya I know, speaking of body. ha!)

AS IF I don't sometimes miss spending my summer on the beach...

AS IF I don't miss my mom and pops enough...

AS IF all that weren't enough, I had to come across these today from photobooth.

I miss seeing these kids whenever I want.
I miss babysitting them when Ben & Lu go out on the town.
I miss gabbing with Lu till wee hours of the night with tons of homework still left to do.
I miss watching our DVR-ed shows together over cookies and milk (or another dessert of her choosing).
I miss painting her nails.
I miss scorning her for not taking care of her nails and/or showering.
I miss her green sweater.
I miss Cason saying, "Wawa, happy birthday!" even though it was nearly sixth months prior.
I miss that I'm now (literally) missing Luci saying "Wawa" for the first time.

Should I have titled this "I Miss"?

Operation: Chairlift.

2010-06-22T18:40:00.001-06:00

A typical work day includes editing and uploading the latest media footage to the network drive, researching various grants and sponsorships, creating yet another Colin excel sheet of sorts, and writing more e-mails than I typical type in a week. I may or may not have left out the (pretty) frequent facebook update checks.....I'm only human.

Sara and I were surprised to walk into work on Friday and find that our sole task of the day was to pick up an office chair. A big, black office chair donated by a swanky financial trade company.

....it was fifteen blocks.

Can you just try and picture that sight for a moment? Doesn't it seem like it would be rather comical, doing it without my much depreciated car at home?

Well, leave it to New Yorkers to take the quirkiness and fun out of everything. They didn't look or laugh once at the sight of two young girls wheeling each other around Midtown. It's almost like no matter what, they've seen far more bizarre around this city.

I think it's safe to say that the chair needs some new shoes.

And maybe.....I do too.

Totally kidding! I say that to myself everyday.

Change For Kids.

2010-06-14T20:23:00.007-06:00

That's who I'm working for.
An organization that is devoted to bringing arts, music, and literacy programs back into the underprivileged elementary schools surrrounding the wealthier Manhattan area (like Brooklyn, the Bronx, Queens...).

Money to sponsor these programs (as I'm soon realizing), doesn't grow on trees. So I help plan the events that accumulate the Benjamins they need....by researching and booking venues, contacting alcohol companies for sponsorships...you get the drill.

It's been fun! And I definitely couldn't complain when it brought me into the presence of professional skaters, a Gossip Girl, and the Yankees.

Just saying.

But life in the non-profit industry isn't all Disney. One moment I'm basking in the giddy glamour of going to big events and meeting the celebrities that involve themselves with the charity, and the next I'm transporting heavy equipment to and across an unconditioned Harlem school. Batting my sweaty forehead alongside the CEO of the organization puts things into their proper perspective fast, and I now understand the truth about non-profits: they have to do everything themselves. There’s no money to have a janitor or furniture mover, there isn’t even enough money to pay themselves extremely well--that would mean one less student had access to the escape and future presented by an arts and literacy education.

It's been quite the humbling experience, to say the least, getting close to kids that come from families living below the poverty line and seeing opportunity sparkle with the touch of a keyboard or violin presented to them. It's powerful. And I don't think I have ever appreciated music so much.

(Three of my favorite girls: 2nd graders Ruth, Melyanet, and Jada at their recital)

I've also never felt so small. There are so many more kids, schools, and causes that need help and attention....so I'm struggling to figure out where I can play into that equation.

P.S. Where are my eyes in this picture?? Should we play a game of Where's Waldo?

If heaven...

2010-06-08T21:48:00.001-06:00

                                                       ....doesn't have Serendipity...

                          ......then I ain't going!

                                                          It's really that good.

Thoughts.

2010-06-07T16:42:00.003-06:00

I walked the Brooklyn Bridge this weekend and was settling at a park with some Grimaldi's pizza when I got caught up in some thoughts.

These past few weeks have been a significant step in my life.

I began my first “job.”

Though it is just a “job,” and though I’ve had plenty of experience working, not having my father as the paycheck author makes me feel more qualified in calling myself an “adult.”

Is that silly? It’s still simple busy work like filing and running menial errands to the post office, except that this time I don’t have the cushion of knowing that no matter what the result of my work, my dad will love me unconditionally when we both take our shoes off at the door of our home.

I had absolutely no idea what to expect my first day of work—I was a walking mess. The only other time I can remember being that nervous was when I decided to try-out for the BYU Cheer Team my senior year of high school. Bearing this memory to mind, I quickly realized that the odds of unprecedented success were highly out of my favor since I fell on my face and nearly passed chunks on the judges at my time of introduction...

But what would be the point of life if it were nothing more than a mere pattern of humiliation and failures, almost a form of self-determined destiny? It would be nothing, right?

Right.

That’s when I came across my epiphany: the power of confidence.

I like to think that I’ve done my fair share of observation and research in the area of confidence; my specialty is in the realm of dating. Girl meets boy (or boy meets girl) and gives a few interested gestures or flirtatious banter to fuel the fire, in the form of self-confidence. One moment of vulnerability and low self-esteem too soon and the fire can fizzle out. With dating, confidence is invaluable. That’s why prospects come in numbers at a time or in long, arid spells of none.

Now I understand that the above seems like an unnecessary tangent, but epiphanies are complex.

Are you still listening?

Confidence was my ticket out of the toilet (literally). I came in twenty minutes early to work, shook with a firm handshake, flashed a pearly, close-to-but-not-quite arrogant smile, and settled myself in an aura of ease.

Thirty minutes later, I was entrusted with researching and contacting NYC event space venues and alcoholic sponsors, rather than the paper cutter...as was assigned to the new intern today.

So I suppose the point of my (long) message is:
If you believe in yourself, everyone else (like my intern director) will too.

Just go for it.

-Hay.

In this concrete jungle where dreams are made of

2010-06-06T19:33:00.002-06:00

...I can't help but miss my roomies. I wish they were here to share this experience with me, too.

"Place title here."= Love you girls.

I fear a fever.

2010-06-05T08:40:00.004-06:00

BIEBER fever that is.

This is

and we decided that we wanted to attend the Today show's Summer Concert Series this last Friday. The guest:

Bieber.

We figured we should aim to wake up around 3:30 am if we wanted to get a semi-good spot. But we were so wrong. Parents had been in line since eight the previous morning. What a joke!

We managed to reach the front line of the back barricade (something I think we were both proud of)....but what intense fans! The eight to fifteen year-olds surrounding us were the rowdiest crowd I've ever been around, enough to take me (a closet fan) into survival-of-the-fittest mode. I'm ashamed of the things I said to these children.

"Hey you know what, life isn't fair, kid. Get over it!"

"Ya, ya! You think staying up all night in this line is painful?! Try going through college finals week, you punk."

"Girlfriend, JB isn't going to think your fanatic screaming is attractive. Why don't you make it pleasant for someone who has more of a chance."

(Okay....so I didn't really say that last one. But I was thinking it.)

I'm a bit ashamed. I could have crushed these delicate hearts' dreams....and I of all people should recall my own tween days of Aaron Carter obsession.

I suppose I should warn not to let my smile fool you?

The haps.

2010-06-01T22:24:00.002-06:00

So. Tired.

I've been parading around the city like it's going out of style.
(As if this place were to EVER go out of style.....the fashion and glamour here is ridiculous.)

Double-decker bus tour: Check.

Eat a hot-dog at Coney Island (yes, the famous Nathan's hot-dog that hosts the 4th of July eating contest!): Oh ya.

See Lady Liberty: You guessed it.

Walk around till my feet could fall off: I don't care--I'm in New York (freaking) City.

Visit Staten Island: So fun.

Experience the nightlife: Been there, done that.

Central Park: What a beauty.
(Really, the serenity you can find there on a sunny afternoon is unreal in a city so busy. If I were a writer, a painter, a poet, or any other artistic prodigy, I would use it as an inspiration.)

Times Square: Too much to even fathom. It will take 5467 trips to truly experience it all.

The art: I'm in LOVE.

There is SO much to see and experience.

I'm trying not to overlook all the little details and hidden charm....and reminding myself of how fortunate and blessed I am to have the life and opportunities that I do. A homeless woman on the subway really hit that home with me. (She was pretending to talk on the phone to some friend. I wanted to give her my shoes and my dad's dental office number.)

"Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn't learn a lot today, at least we learned a little, and if we didn't learn a little, at least we didn't get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn't die; so, let us all be thankful." - Buddha

And good night.

THIS girl..

2010-05-24T20:25:00.005-06:00

is in the BIG apple for the summer!

I've only been here thirty six hours and I can already testify that the phrase "the city that never sleeps" is no freaking joke.

I can't even begin to describe all the sights, smells, and sounds I've been introduced to. Just an hour ago I was rushed out of my shower and down the forever levels of stairs, into the hot dog/greek stand scented air of 14th Street for a massive fire drill, supposedly aimed to help with the chaos occurring underground ten feet to the west; the subway track couldn't rid itself of the human body it ran over upon entering the station.

Mother, I'm definitely not in Kansas anymore.

This guy made my first day much better, however.
Remember THIS guy?

Eric is a special person in my life that has spent one too many years being away as a hot shot soccer player upstate. Couldn't have picked anyone better to take my first stroll down Times Square or take my first ride on the city's elaborate metro system with.
Well.....James Marsden or George Clooney would have worked too..

But yes, I'm spreading my wings and trying on some new cardigan sweaters.
Who knows, maybe my first day at work tomorrow will be the right fit?

But maybe not.
We'll just have to wait and see!

P.S. So far I've refused to take pictures with my pride of coming off as a non-native city girl....and a little fear of pickpockets. I think I need therapy.
P.P.S. I need a better camera.

The Yellow Cardigan.

2010-04-28T13:40:00.002-06:00

Preface. This is an epiphany that has sprouted/been realized/developed after being away from home and on my own in the real, independent college world this past year. (Note: All the opinions included therein are that of myself as an individual and do not necessarily represent the views of blogger.com, my girl scout troop (if I had one..), or the Walker family at large.)

Chapter One. My life and experience in high school was a breeze and a dream. In all honesty, it was in many ways too good to be true. I got nearly everything I could have ever wanted, when I wanted, and how I wanted. Imagine the perfect boyfriend, the extracurricular activities of choice, a generous home/family life, good girlfriends, impressive grades...you get the point. My life was grand.

Chapter Two. I entered the scene at my university thinking all would fall into place as it did before. I'd soon be discovered and again be one of the very best. I'd get the best grades, receive the best scholarships, make it on the Dean's list, yada yada ya. It didn't take long for some rejection to occur, possibly the very first substantial case of rejection I've ever encountered in my nineteen years of life. I tried to shake it off, but it kept coming. I wasn't the smartest, I wasn't the coolest, I wasn't.....you get the point. Enter the under-confident, submissive, self-conscious inflicting depression that I had up to this point, never seen reflected in the mirror. Further, I no longer knew what I wanted or aspired to do. I had no idea what I wanted my plans to be. How life had changed. The future seemed scary; I'd never felt so lost.

Chapter Three. I watched Confessions of a Shopaholic. I know what my mother is saying, "Where are you going with this? As it is you definitely did your fair share of damage on your Discover card..." But this isn't the point. I know Rebecca Bloomwood doesn't seem like the best role-model (I mean come on, she believes her destiny is to shop), but if you look behind her compulsive spending habits, you find a little more depth. I respect her. She found a way of morphing her menial talents and interests into a career (I say menial because mine are definitely menial) by finding muse in a green scarf, the whole time never abandoning her original style, even when trying to make her wrongs right. Catching my drift yet?

Chapter Four. I was shopping on anthropologie.com, in the sweater section to be exact. I came across this little number:

I know, it's adorable. I just wish it was a pretty floral color, perhaps a pale yellow. It's spring after all, and I've been cooped up much too long in drab, snow clothes. Yes, a pastel yellow of this sweater would be somewhat of a nirvana to me.....only they don't offer a pastel yellow. For the expense price of $128.00, I only have the option of the blackest of black, or this grainy white. Enter my epiphany.

Chapter Five. All the people and majors and jobs already out there on the market are like this grainy white sweater. They've been done before and taken. The dreamy yellow cardigan I envision, that could be me. A person, career, and future completely different than the rest. An original like Rebecca Bloomwood, "The girl in the Green Scarf." No more wallowing over the golden days of high school, which in all actuality is the borrowed time spent on Rebecca Bloomwood's credit card. This is the new me, in pursuit of my yellow cardigan.

Why not aspire to be something I haven't seen before?

Why would I want to become what someone already is?

From now on I'm going to see things a little different.

I'm going to dream a little different.

In sum, I'm going to be a little different.

I'm going to be my own big-shot.

P.S. My epilogue includes all the posts to follow, documenting the development and pursuit of the "yellow cardigan". I'm excited for my journey. And I hope you are too.

Some people make the world special just by being in it.

2010-04-24T19:18:00.001-06:00

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal.

Love leaves a memory no one can steal.

Thinking of you this weekend, Air.

Xoxo.

Watcha got there, kid?

2010-04-07T18:01:00.003-06:00

Receiving mail is so great, especially if it's a package from Mumzie & Daddio.

(And I'm not just saying this so I will receive more at an increased frequency in the future....though I wouldn't complain to that either....i'm just saying.)

Side note: do I use too many ellipses? I've become increasingly aware of how annoying it may be to some people. So for what it's worth, know that I'm working on it, and that I'm sorry for any irritation it may have caused.

(And I may or may not had to just refrain from adding some more, unintentionally of course. It's a habit, what more can I say?)

As always, the Easter Bunny spoiled me like Edward pampers Vivian in Pretty Woman. And lucky for me, the post man didn't refuse service to the poor, lowly college student that I am.....you know, because Rodeo Drive refuses it to her? Not so funny and clever? Okay. It must have been a tough week; no wit to be found in here at the moment. But moving on.

What's funny is that my mom NEVER allowed me to have a sweet lunch pail like this when I could have really used one, as a major popularity-inducing device in elementary school. Instead, I had to sit at the left outskirt table in the cafeteria with the "almost-popular-but-not-quite-who-instead-have-to-focus-on-their-grades-to-make-up-for-the-fact" girls. But don't think I'm complaining! Sporting the random, plain company promotional lunch bag instead and being a scholar to make up for it, set into motion a life-long pursuit of nerdiness in all my completed years of public schooling, and ultimately got me to where I am now. (Which is where I always wanted to be.) So I guess what I'm trying to say is that Mom (oops, I mean Easter Bunny).....I was rather bitter and embarrassed of my lunch accessory back then, and (or would proper grammar be but?) I thank you a hundred times for your effort in making up for it now. Even if my chances of currently being cool these days are slim to none. Nevertheless, I'll let you know if the lunch box sparks some overdue miracles.

Oh, and new parents, be aware of the significant decision you are making when purchasing your child's lunch pail. I mean it.

P.S. If I wasn't a huge Twilight fan before, I am now.

P.P.S. The forty bucks was another nice, restituting gesture. Seriously.

P.P.P.S. I kind of forgot about the ellipses....so I'm going to have to ask for you to give me another break. I just quit biting my nails! Sheesh, give me a break. I'm taking one bad habit at a time.

P.P.P.P.S. Mom.......

...Really?

That's a lot of P.S.

peace.

Three is the lucky number.

2010-03-29T08:47:00.001-06:00

It was Sunday night (yesterday). I have on my raggedy sweats and my hair is pulled back way tight with some obscure bumps and knots woven in on the surface.

I'll spare you some insignificant details but let's just say I definitely am not looking my best when a few of my guy friends burst into my door for visiting hours.

And as if my looks aren't enough to embarrass me, I'm also sprawled out at my desk, consumed in a copy of Chicken Soup: for the College Soul.

No one admits that they actually read that. (At least no one cool.) Crap.

Third embarrassment: I'm also crying at the story I'm reading about Chucky Mullins from Ole Miss, a football star turned paraplegic. And I mean totally bawling, totally weeping, for all my friends to see.

Just great.

I might as well have wet the bed.

Well.....ya.

And we call it: The Sisterhood.

2010-03-19T16:06:00.006-06:00

....the Sisterhood of the Traveling VEST to be exact.

Can I just start by saying I love these girls?

(please don't mind our immodesty--we were in the process of playing dress-up!)

These are my very best friends here up at BYU....they fill the entire spectrum of girl species.

Really.

Anyways, we used to all get giddy about living with each other once we moved out of the dorms this coming year.

That is until they all decided to transfer schools (except Lauren and me). So sad.

A little rewind: last semester sometime, we had pushed our beds together so that we could (comfortably) all watch a movie together. It was Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Love that movie. We were about half way through it when we had the ultimate epiphany. Oh my goodness, we are so them!

It goes like this:

Mallory: (the only brunette in the world that purposefully dyes her hair red) is Tibby. You know the weird one that puts the sticker on her forehead? Yeah.

She's a little......different. But that's the reason you love her. You know? Plus, she eventually starts dating the sweet, video-gamer Asian kid. Mal also has that interracial relationship status thing going on too. Tibby.

Emily: (my roommate with the wannabe tattoo) is Carmen with the big booty. Emily has more junk in her trunk than anyone I know. I can almost visibly see the Oreos and Peanut Butter she treats herself to on study breaks go immediately there. Not really. But still. Carmen is the one responsible for the unlikely friendship of the group. Plus she is never afraid to speak her mind. Considering Em is the most assertive AND aggressive in our little group, we thought the characterization was pretty applicable. Carmen.

Lauren: (the blonde that looks like Baby Spice) is Bridget. She is the naturally beautiful, super athletic, always up for a good time, one. Considering most people don't classify cheer as a technical sport (which is such a shame because IT IS), she's also the only one of us that was a high school athlete....she LOVES to run. Frankly, it disgusts me. But whatever. I do have to add this little disclaimer though. In the movie Bridget chases the most attractive soccer player imaginable, something we all can't quite say for Lauren. We are working on in it though....(kidding Lauren!). Bridget.

Me: (with the roundest face of the entire group) they say I'm Lena. I don't necessarily agree with their reasoning, but apparently I have the whole creativity thing going on like her. (I was so flattered). Plus, she's a more reserved brunette....... I can only hope that I'll someday find some beautiful Greek man as she does. I'll keep you informed. Lena.

Hillary: (wearing the crazy cheetah) she's Bailey, but for reasons I'm not even exactly sure. I think it was just because she always came up with random things to say.....maybe? In any case, we all kind of felt bad that we gave her the dead girl, so we decided she could be Lena's sister Effie who tries to steal Tibby's boyfriend, as well. Hillary has this weird thing where she crushes on older men and little children, which is kind of creepy. Don't you think? She wont hesitate to admit that she has a little something something for Mal's dad. Yeah.......Bailey/Effie/A simply weird girl. We'll just leave it at that.

Before Mal/Tib left us this semester, we held our little sisterhood ritual in the dark hall lounge at 3 am in the morning. We decided on the rules of the Sisterhood, written down in the notebook. Each sister gets the vest for exactly one month until she passes it over. The other rules you might ask? It's a secret.

Guess who's turn it is?

You guessed it. I got this in the mail yesterday, such a nice surprise.

And guess where i get to send it? Hawaii, for the one and only Carmen in my life.

Isn't life so great and wonderful with good friends?

And we begin...

2010-03-14T23:34:00.002-06:00

Em and I couldn't take it anymore.
As I sit here like I have all weekend long preparing for my last midterms, I realize I am beyond burnt out.
I just want to be able to watch the full season of Glee without worrying about pressing deadlines....
Or take a Sunday nap...
Or eat SUMMER fruits..
Perhaps see some friends at home...
Maybe cuddle with my mom..
Most of all, I just want my body to go back to normal.

37 days and counting, my friends.

Almost 36.

What's the word...

2010-03-09T00:17:00.006-07:00

You know those days when you just feel.....BLAH...?

That's been today. Actually, it's been the past week.

Why do we sometimes get in these ruts? We don't want to work, we don't want to do laundry, we don't want to go to the gym, we don't care if we eat more evil calories, we don't care if we shower...etc..etc. It's so counterproductive since it only leads to us feeling more fat, more gross, more pathetic, more behind, more BLAH.

I hate BLAH.

Anyways, I was sitting in class today, thinking about BLAH, when my computer screen savor popped up with its picture slide show. Of all pictures, this decided to make an appearance, the first time I've seen it in a long time:

It made BLAH go away long enough to wink a smile, reminiscent of such a simple, happy time. I was a sophomore in high school when I found out that Nick Lachey was making a concert stop at the nearby Pechanga Casino. I called my parents in a frenzy and for whatever reason, they relented to get me tickets. Maybe my dad secretly liked his heartbroken album too....but back to the story. It was the night of the concert, my friends and I were anxiously awaiting the show, and in walks our cheer coach. "Coach Nic? What are you doing here?"

Supposedly, Coach Nic was good friends with dreamy boy's body guard. She claimed they exchanged texts all the time. I didn't believe her until she returned with three passes.

I was on the stage, inches away from Nick Lachey, and he sang to me. I could have grabbed his backside if I wanted to....(that thought did come to mind in my fifteen seconds of fame). It was probably one of the greatest nights of my life.

In fact, it was a lot like this:

I love moments like those; moments that are vivacious and unexpected. Now why can't we ever get into THAT kind of funk?

I've heard patience is a virtue.

2010-03-04T22:13:00.000-07:00

.....and that good things come to those who wait. Well goodness knows, I've been waiting.

I have been pining so long for my parents to fly my little sister Mackenzie out to P-town to spend a weekend with me.....and for her to fit me into her busy dizzy schedule (she's on two cheer teams, juggles two boyfriends, was just elected senior class president, yady-yada-ya). The time has finally come. It's like the curtain is about to be drawn.....and I am so giddy with excitement.

Kenzie, Kenzoli, Pookums, or if you'd prefer to call her Miss Booty, is one of my very best friends. Even though we are on complete different sides of the spectrum (I don't have the talent to commend ONE boys attention, much less TWO...), we balance each other out, with flavor. You know what I mean?

So I've come up with a few reasons as to why should she go to school up here:
1. I'm here. Need I explain more?
2. There are tons of cute boys. Can you imagine the damage she could do?
3. The Brutsch's & Barker's reside in the area. It's been such a blessing being able to be around my sisters and their families. Being able to watch my nephew and nieces grow up has been a priceless treasure.
4. I'm here. I missed her too much this year! We were not meant to be so far away from each other for so long.
5. We could cuddle ALL the time. We love that. It's probably one of our favorite hobbies.
6. She could give me tips....Ya, I know I'm supposed to be the wise, older sister. Don't rub it in, okay?
7. We could share clothes, again. It's been rough having to be creative with my own wardrobe!
8. She could drink BYU's chocolate milk ALL the time. She doesn't know it yet, but she's addicted. Just like me. Just like you would be, too.

And oh ya, did I mention I'm here?

Provo, we only got one shot at this Utah conversion. I'm ready to give this trip my all, my everything. Are you?

CAUTION: can be scary.

2010-03-04T00:45:00.000-07:00

I was given this teddy bear by a dear high school friend of mine for graduation....a real treasure, right?

Wrong. I mean yes, he is a treasure in relevance to the friend who gave it to me, but out of that context, he makes me want to hide in the closet. You see, he was constructed at Build-A-Bear and therefore, has a voice. Cute, right?

Wrong. When I go to sleep at night in my little dorm bed, I tend to roll around. Sometimes I get caught in sheets, sometimes I have a full bladder, sometimes the room is a little too stuffy, but worst of all, sometimes I accidentally roll onto said bear and his deep, male voice projects itself to the room. "Hey Haley"....and blah blah blah with the recording. This all happens while I'm sleeping, in the dark. It's just about the creepiest thing imaginable at 3 am. A soft scream is justifiable, right?

Right. I love this bear--in the daylight. He's cute and cuddly, like the friend who gave it to me. But he's another being when the sun goes down--like a Chuckie doll, or a Furby, or a Peeping Tom.

Build-A-Bear should include a new amendment on their birth certificates. "Warning: Is evil from the hours of 7pm-6am." Or maybe an age-appropriate rating like they use on the movies?

Hope I make it through another night alive..

Law school or NASA?

2010-03-03T00:55:00.006-07:00

I'm currently enrolled in a Biology class, you know.....trying to get rid of some generals so I can concentrate on my major classes involving political science. I watched my roommates last year go through the course; I saw them making drawings of mitosis and spewing the details of the structure of dna. It didn't look that bad so I thought, "Hey, I can do that." I was excited to get my left brain on.

Fast forward a few weeks. I found a seat on the first day of class, next to a girl with glasses. She was the stereotypical science nerd, and to be honest, I found it kind of refreshing. I began pulling out my notebook, my pens, my computer in case I got bored, when I began sobering up from first day semester jitters to listen to what the professor was dragging on elaborately about. A compiled bird list? Required binoculars? A field trip to see the birthing of bears? A unit on bats and cats? Confused, I turned to the girl with the glasses. "Excuse me, is this room 355? In the Marb?.....and it is Bio 100?" It turns out the professor is a bit of a nut and takes a twist to biology. I didn't know then, but his class is referred to as the "bird watching class."

That's right.....

My homework is to go outside and watch birds...

And I'm not kidding. Really...that's what we do.

Another twist of his? Our Friday lectures are allotted for our required group presentations on quarters. STATE quarters. Do you find this guy as bizarre as I do? Please, say yes.

Anyways, I had to give my presentation a few weeks ago. My group picked Ohio. Ohio is home to the history-making astronauts Neil Armstrong and John Glenn, as was Orville Wright, co-inventor of the airplane. I concluded that this is probably the state's only claim to fame, as it is the most random thing that could ever possibly be picked to be depicted on their quarter....I'm just saying.

You want to know my claim to fame? Starring in our presentation video as THE astronaut who demonstrated "the biology of a space suit." I've been considering space ever since. Thank you Professor.

P.S. Yes, that is a Star Wars Clone Trooper mask....a little walk on the dark side never hurt anyone, right? Kidding!

I did it...

2010-03-01T21:44:00.001-07:00

....I quit the atrocious habit of biting my nails. And let me tell you, it feels good. It all started out about five years ago, I was watching some tween movie that had Mandy Moore in it. (I'm thinking Chasing Liberty...) She kept biting her nails in a flirty, biting-the-corner-of-my-lip sort of way that I wanted to mimic. So I did. Or at least tried. It eventually developed into something completely obnoxious. Rather than sultry yet cutesy, it was loud and annoying, I admit. I'll spare you the details.....but just know I'm cured.

I've never seen my nails this long. They elongate my rather thick fingers, or at least somewhat, I hope? Ah, the femininity....

"Dude--there's a Chevron.."

2010-02-28T20:28:00.000-07:00

....I should mention that my friends also titled this post "Californication." It's clever I know, but it reminds me too much of the noun "fornication," so I refuse to really pick up on it..

California. There really isn't a sweeter thought I can think of while I'm bundled up in a wad of blankets looking out a frosted window to a wilted, dreary Utah sky. Add the additional tragic pile of homework and studying that compares to the length of the trek to the Y, and you have the essence of my entire winter semester. I don't want you to get me wrong though, I've had a great couple of months, but there's something about the cold winter here that is a little, well...depressing. The excitement of snow precipitants either a. occurs when you are sleeping, b. takes place during your school day...forcing nothing but trembling and embarrassing trips to the ground as you make your way to classes, or lastly c. transpires for about as long as a song on the radio, leaving the same dead grass as your landscape. Oooh. Oh. And the real killer for me? Christmas already passed, so no more of that snowman, home-y, let's-cuddle-by-the-fire-and-roast-chestnuts business. Why? Whyyy? (Sorry for the whiny tangent.)

My friends and I decided to take advantage of our four-day weekend and travel back to my hometown. We crammed in my little bug, blasted some muse, and didn't hesitate to look back. Let me just say our little escape was PERFECT. The California weather decided to cease raining for a few days and let the sun work its magic on my now nearly alabaster skin. In-n-Out tasted like heaven in a wrapper, and my two Cali-foreign friends claim to have had as much fun as I did with the palm trees and sea breeze. How can people leave that place? Only six more weeks and counting till I move all my things back there for the summer....finals have never sounded so good!

I have this system worked out with my parents where I have a gas card, but it's only usable at Chevron stations. For any of you that have made this drive, you know that you have to be pretty thorough about planning out your pit stops ahead of time or you'll soon be stuck with tumbleweeds and fifty or so miles of red sand abyss on either side. I got so frustrated when I was nearing empty on my dashboard and couldn't find one of those blasted blue and white Chev signs. I ended up having to pull over at the nemesis, Mobil, and using my personal credit card instead. Within the next ten miles after, we passed probably four Chevs. I considered lighting one on fire, like they do in Zoolander, only I would make sure no one was around first since it was Chev I was mad at, and not the cashier. I've never resented a thirty dollar purchase so much. And let me just say, my friends can pick out a Chevron now like a bear smells food.

For our dinner stop we had to resort to a gas station jointed to Burger King. We waited in line for probably thirty minutes and decided that a whopper wasn't worth it, opting for lunchable pizzas and a chicken bake instead. My bake tasted like a shoe, or maybe one of those Harry Potter puke flavored jelly beans? I didn't investigate much further. In any case, bite that seven dollar purchase in the bottom too.

Me and Corey. Told you I'm white.

Lauren and Emily.

Despite these minor implications, we had so much fun. I know it's pretty, okay, REALLY cliche, but it was one of those "wow, I'm a college student" moments. It was great. Some of our best adventures:

Playing "pick-a-song-and-sing-it-the-best-you-can-at-the-top-of-your-lungs" game in the car. I still think Em won.

Going to the beach everyday.

Having a t.v. to watch the Olympics..though I have got to say the opening ceremonies this year weren't my favorite. This, however, is. Boy is a crack up on ice.

Darla (that's the name of my car) got to wear her hair down a little bit in what seems like forever. She hasn't been home since June! And she made completely new friends as everyone living at home has a different car than they did when we left.

I already mentioned it, I know, and it's probably more so not much of a big deal since we now have one opened in Orem....but In-n-Out. Oh how I missed it. I've refused to go in O-town because it's simply a home/California thing for me. It almost makes me mad that they brought it for the enjoyment of the Utah masses. Am I started to sound like an arrogant Californian? Like the stereotypical, egocentric American that foreigners complain about? I hate that. I'm stopping now...I promise.

When you are in the "BYU bubble," you forget about the outside, secular world. It was a new eye-opening experience going to Hollywood. The cat whistles, the hobos, the "shops"....you know what I mean.

To break up the nine hour drive, and have a little more fun before the next day of classes, we stopped in Primm to ride the Buffalo Bills roller coaster. This may or may not be my personal favorite part of the entire weekend. Just thought I'd throw that out there.

Not pictured: it was the birthday of my late cousin Aaron. It was great being able to make it to his party, where I got to spend quality time with my extended family (my aunt Sheri and uncle Marc are the greatest!). I felt a little closer to the someone I hold so dear in my heart. I miss you Air.

P.S. Grammy, thanks for my favorite meal on Sunday :] I miss you, too.

Festivities of the holidays.

2009-12-05T14:27:00.000-07:00

Last night I was taken to the...

in Sandy, Utah. It was AMAZING. There were over 800 stunning Christmas trees decorated in various themes and a truly unbelievable Gingerbread village. These were some of my favorites:

As far as the Christmas trees go, I don't even know where to start. It was incredible. The themes were so creative and diverse! I kept walking around and thinking, "Oh! This one is soo Lauren." Or, "This one is soo Trent." I eventually just took out my camera and decided to make a blog post out of it, for the very best people in the world to spend the holidays with: my family. It goes like this:

This tree is symbolic of my crafty and resourceful mother. It's amazing what she can do with a sewing machine, some paint, and a little glue gun. I have yet to meet someone so creative. I'm pretty sure she has the same superhuman DNA as Picasso, Beethoven, Dali, and Chagall. She's a genius and I feel so fortunate to have lived in her home where every holiday is decorated like Christmas. It has constituted such a large part of my childhood.

I also thought this one represented you, Mom.

Wait for the close-up:

It's just like your freakish leprechaun I have nightmares of. Read this.
I've come to trust that this is a part of your genius creativity too...haha.

The BYU Football tree. You know where I'm going with this--my dad. He's obsessed! He flies up from California with my mom for nearly every home game, and has done this for as long as I can remember. If you take the time to ask, he can tell you all the statistics about the players and as additional reinforcement, he will load the Cougarfan website on his blackberry. I love my dad for his infatuation with BYU football. I've come to realize than in an unorthodox way, it's sort of romantic. (To this he would probably respond with some mild potty joke.)

This Utes tree is for my brother-in-law Craig, a die-hard fan of BYU's biggest nemesis. This guy adds such dynamic to Saturday game days. It's one of the reasons I respect and adore him so much. The entire family will be decked out in their navy blue and white Cougar jersey memorabilia, and then there is Craig in his unspoken red defiance. Despite the apparent odds of their respective superstar teams, Craig and my dad share a close friendship through other mediums: their easy-going personalities and a mutual obsession in another category of sports--golf.

I know this picture isn't great, but it's a tree adorned with jewelry. Adorable, chic jewelery to be exact, in honor of my older sister Danielle. She recently created Modern Vintage Boutique, an online store of super cute accessories and clothes. I sometimes get to see her inventory in person and just gasp at the pretty reflections made as the sun passes through her trendy trinkets. I love and am proud of the entrepreneur she has become.

I introduce the dessert tree, dedicated to my older sister Lauren. This woman is controlled by her enormous sweet tooth and love of sugar. She eats her glucose-enriched foods before/in substitution of a conventional entree. Her pantry is swarmed with such goodies, which is one of the many reasons I love stopping by (I admit). I don't understand how she looks so great. Where does it go?!

Okay so I know these are dirt bikes, but it was the closest I could find to my biking brother-in-law Ben. He's the next Lance Armstrong in my book. He loves, loves, loves his bikes and I love him for the knowledge I acquire from it. I went to one of his races in Park City this summer and learned all about Lotoja and the like. THEN, the next day I met the president of the Biking Club and sustained a ten minute conversation about it. I like to think Ben would have been proud..

This tree is in honor of my older brother Trent. Even after his "maturing" mission, he would beat and tickle me, claiming that someday when he made it famous, I would appreciate the hassle. He used this excuse a lot actually; he used it when forcing me to iron his shirts, make his bed, clean his car, do his college organic chemistry homework packets, etc. (You get the jist of our relationship.) I guess in a way he was right. He is now residing in Nashville and going to fancy-pancy events with the likes of such Hollywood icons as Carrie Underwood and Taylor Swift.

My beautiful sister-in-law Brooke has a thing for birds, though the ones she likes are more chic. When the Griffiths lived in Costa Mesa, they had the cutest apartment that had them furnished everywhere. I even think Anthropolgie copied her...because I'm noticing that nearly everything they have in their stock recently has birdies incorporated into it! I'm telling you, she has the best style and Anthropolgie.com agrees.

For my older brother Blake I have a couple representations.
Number one.

The Nightmare Before Christmas' music score was done by Danny Elfman, Blake's idol. Whenever I drove in the car with Blakie I'd make sure that this was the soundtrack that was playing because it was the only thing in his quirky music genre that I recognized. We bonded over it. This, and Ween.

Number two.

Blake is very artistic and likes avantgarde and eccentric things. He's a nonconformist. That's why I love him. I would imagine him to have a tree like this.

Number three.

Even though Blake is brilliant and has some major musical talent, he claimed for the majority of his adolescence that he was only applying to clown college. What a goon! Though he has confessed to his larger ambitions, he's still a clown at heart. He watches High School Musical with me and has a crush on Disney's Ashley Tisdale. He even still wears his spiderman boxers. Luckily, he exterminated his booger collection along with the clown school idea.

This is what I refer to as the beanie-baby tree (notice that they are hung as ornaments). I thought this was symbolic of my little sister Mackenzie. Though I haven't formally verbalized it, I still hold quite a bit of a grudge regarding these little treasures. You see, growing up Kenzie and I had to share everything as the "little girls"; we had to share identities, a bedroom, a bathroom, the sought after Spice Girl barbie dolls I would have given my arm for, and yes you guessed it, my prestigious beanie-baby collection. Back then I was the same person that I am now...a little OCD. I tried to take such cautious care of my babies, even placing them in their separate plastic boxes to be admired from a distance. I was convinced the beanies would make me rich someday....that is until I'd come home and find that Kenzie had ripped off some of their tags. Gasp. Tears. Heartbreak. I'm still bitter. Eventually we graduated to Pokemon cards where we no longer were forced to share. Can you believe she had the audacity to get the Charizard halligraphic card before I did?! Hmph.

There you go. My family in a nutshell. I can't wait to be home for the holidays!

SYTYCD Tour, Season 5

2009-11-09T00:23:00.000-07:00

On the blissful evening of Saturday, November 7th, 2009, I was fortunate enough to have a ticket that redeemed me a seat at West Valley’s E Center to see the top ten finalists from the television show So You Think You Can Dance season five, perform live. Words really can’t describe my ecstatic state as the lights were dimmed and Nigel Lythgoe’s recorded British accent rang from the speakers announcing the talent of such dancers as follows: Jeanine Mason, Brandon Bryant, Jason Glover, Kayla Radomski, Kupono Aweau, Evan Kasprzak, Rrandi Evans, Ade Obayomi, Melissa Sandvig, and Janette Manrara. As one of the show’s biggest fans (that is, alongside my sister/best friend Lauren), I feel almost as if these ten dancers are my close friends; I’ve followed every week religiously and have even spent countless hours re-watching my favorite routines on youtube. To see those same routines in person was simply and utterly amazing.

I really, sincerely wish I could express in words what a momentous occasion this was for Lauren and I. IT WAS HUGE! I thought I was the world's most embarrassing creature for having caused mascara to run down my cheek simply for witnessing their introductions. The thought of being so close to people I admired (and envied) was too much. It was right then that Lauren turned towards me; in the crazy colored luminescence, I could see she was crying too. We really are from the same family. Don't be fooled by our differing outside appearances.

For those of you that are not familiar with the show, shame on you. By the end of this, my goal is to have converted you. So forgive me for the long, arduous text that follows. This really can't go without being said.

One of the most recognizable and loved routines from this past season is a piece choreographed by Mia Michaels and danced by Kupono and Kayla, regarding the sensitive and traumatic subject of addiction. Though there are many aspects of addiction, the problematic obsession and the detrimental effects it has on family and other loved ones being only a few, this particular piece deals with addiction’s enslaving nature. The choreography depicts the struggle between an individual, portrayed by Kayla, and her addiction, characterized by Kupono. In all facets of their movement and facials, the dance feels real. Kupono has an ominous smirk the entire routine, symbolic of an addiction’s pleasure in capturing its subject, and dances calmly, but powerfully, almost serenely holding his new prey in agony and torment. With forceful, but slow reaching lines, Kupono catches hold of Kayla and never lets go. Despite her efforts to escape his release and in effect “kick the habit” (both literally and physically), he always manages to keep a hold on her, controlling her body and movement. The struggle between the two parties crosses nearly every corner and foot of the stage, illustrative of the toll it has on every feature of an addict’s life: relationships, work, school, happiness, etc. Kupono also always keeps in close distance of Kayla, the two entities nearly exist together as one, as she can only keep him away for a few counts before she relapses again into the addiction. While Kupono is menacing, powerful, tantalizing, and only has to use a limb or two to demand dominance, Kayla has to use every muscle in her body, producing very big, dramatic, contrasting movement. Her face illustrates the struggle and effort that coincides with such a forced energy, seeming weak and frail.

Every element of the routine is successful in portraying Mia Michaels’ message and purpose, which is why I believe this dance is so powerful. I’ve watched it a million times, and even when I saw it for the hundreth or so time in person, I was still catching symbolic details. The music of Sara Bareilles’ “Gravity” was so much more touching as it rang loud from the stadium’s speakers, the theme song to Kayla’s struggle. Although the costume was the same as on the show, I realized that Kayla was tattered and ragged, while Kupono wore an immaculate suit of authority, even accessorized with shards of Kayla’s costume material, again symbolic of his possession of her.

Really. Watch it. Be prepared to be blown away.

If you are interested, my other recommended routines to research are:
*Jeanine & Jason Contemporary
*Janette & Brandon Cha Cha & Disco
*Jeanine & Phillip "Mad" Hip Hop
*Randi & Evan Contemporary

The list really could go on...

The So You Think You Can Dance Tour was breathtaking and stunning, even down to the last spoof of the Russian Folk dance, which I normally wouldn’t find engaging. Despite the dancers having to rush into costume changes and perform an insane amount of routines, they kept up their energy and created an amazing show. They all were so much better in person and I’ve come to respect them not only as dancers, but actors, and entertainers.

Watch Season 6, it already has the promise of sensational performances!

AND Get tickets for the season 6 tour, just don't buy the ticket for the seat within the first three rows that is intended for me, then I might have to come kick your butt.

Let's talk creativity.

2009-11-02T15:15:00.000-07:00

Emily & I still can't get over this...

We found it waiting outside our door one night....a cookie invitation from a boy to hike up to the Y. I wish I could say it was for me.

Totally speechless. Words, I have none. Calories, quite the surplus. (I can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse that Em likes to share.)

Do these boys ever sleep?

What haven't I done in the last four weeks?

2009-10-28T10:06:00.000-06:00

This past month has been by far the busiest, most bizarre, most adventurous, most surprising, most almost-every-adjective-you-can-think-of in my entire life. Just as a little recap:

I embarked on my last official year as a teenager--the big (or not so big) 1-9. Two of my roommates, Emily and Mallory, had a birthday within two weeks of mine as well; it was a crazy couple of weeks of presents, chocolate molten cake, door decor, and celebrations!

Here's my belated birthday wish to myself! Cheers wawa.

(FYI-that's Martinelli's Cran-Apple Cider..not to worry)

Out of everything, even the ridiculously cute clothes from mom and dad, this was my favorite present by far...

It's still in my fridge....I guess that sign is really working!

Also in the last few weeks, summer turned into fall..

Pretty, huh? It's unfortunate that it only lasted two weeks. Now it's snowing, which was fun for the first twenty minutes.....but I think I'm going to have a hard time coping with this till spring. I'm buckling my seat-belt everyone, it's going to be a long, cold winter.

So I realize I'm not exactly going in chronological order...life has been one big blur so I'm not exactly sure I could even if I tried.

There's been some great (some not so great) football games..

Totem poles..

Trips to the ghetto of Salt Lake, the train station.

Reunions with friends I haven't seen in years!

(Travis Williams aka T-Dawg- my freshmen boyfriend who moved to Idaho & then Hawaii)

Cat fights...

Not pictured: I ran into a deer.....not a live one of course, it had already been hit, but nevertheless very scary. Even after being assured that no harm was done, mom didn't find it very funny.

One too many laughs with these lovely girls..

And now that my cd player AND auxiliary outlet are on the fritz (I swear I think my life is almost over) due to jammed pennies (don't ask) and other technical problems.....we've had to listen to Miley Cyrus' "Party in the USA" & Taylor Swift's "You Belong With Me" non-stop.

**Side note: my new mission: get Utah radio stations to find new songs to overplay!

Hope your last month has been just as eventful!!

And so it begins...

2009-09-29T15:50:00.000-06:00

I LOVE FOOTBALL SEASON. Why?

Well first...because school puts on stuff like this:

They call it True Blue.

We made such a mess when we came home to shower....it was the cleaning room-check night too with our RA. Let's just say we didn't pass the first time around... :]

Second. Football season also brings good tidings of:

*Highly caloric & processed foods. (cotton candy, slurpees, hawaiian popcorn, and the like..)
*Crazed crowds
*School spirit
*Mascots!!
*THE wave
*Cheers
*The best of all? Being able to wear FALL clothes.

You know you feel the same.

Andrew is grey-shirting for the team this year and invited Trav and I on the field for warm-ups and the player tunnel. It was SOOO cool.

I got to be so up close and personal! We were standing on the sidelines as they did their thing and then all of a sudden they were charging at us! Before we knew it we were in the cracks of their HUGE formation. It was quite silly.

I nearly had a heart-attack when I turned to my left and saw Bronco standing less than ten feet away from me...and then a few minutes later cosmo came by. BYU has the best mascot. I've never seen any other of his kind do standing tucks and aerials.

Let's go Cougs!

This aint exactly easy.

2009-09-22T14:42:00.000-06:00

What is this institution called college? Am I going to get through it? It's eight o' clock in the morning already? Another essay? Will I live till Christmas (also the end of the semester)? And people say this is the most fun you have in your entire life?!

These are the questions I ask myself about ten times a day. How come this is so much harder than before? Between classes, homework, and more classes....I find little time to do much else! I have to write about four essays in a week, something I'm not yet quite accustomed to. (Oh, and congrats to those of you who are....!)

Anyways. These are the things that are getting me through these long, LONG weeks.

Subject 1:

Even though it's always much earlier than I would like it to be, I get to wake up to THIS every morning, as it is on my roommate's wall. It's marvelous. Aren't you jealous you don't have him to come home to?

Subject 2:

Ya, that's my fridge. This is the only thing that prevents me from stuffing my face with sugar when I'm brain-fried from studying and am about to go insane. Course, I can't say it's worked everytime....

(As evident by) Subject 3:

Sharing an entire pan of white chocolate/caramelized brownies with your roommate at midnight? My sister suggested it. Lauren, my consequent Freshmen Fifteen and I thank you.

Subject 4:

My roommate has a few of these tucked in odd places around our humble abode too. And you all thought I was obsessed?

Subject 5:

The beginning of crisp Fall weather! Ah, it's honestly the best....and I wish you could all see the beauty of this campus with the lush greenery and encompassing mountains with it.

Subject 6:

For those of you curious, this is my current relationship. DJ i writes me a song for whatever my mood calls for, is a loyal companion, and even sleeps with me. (In an appropriate way, you weirdos!) Oh, but the best part? We never fight. Well, that is except when he runs out of battery..but he says that's my fault, not his...

Subject 7:

Thanks to the attractive English guy that gave this to me in class! Daisies are my favorite; don't they just make you happy? This one has lasted over a week!

Subject 8:

My eye mask. I know, it should have some cute bows on it or something to make it more visually appealing...but it does the job just fine. Allows me to fall asleep when my roommate still needs light for homework. (Remind me to thank whoever invented these in the next life!)

Subject 9:

The very best of all of them. Turning IN the essay. Ah, such a sigh of relief.

This reminds me, I got another one. Toodles! I hope you all have these blessed miracles in your life!

Blink!

2009-09-09T17:12:00.001-06:00

...Blink 182 that is.

For Labor Day I wanted to do something FUN! Something different...

...so I ventured where this pop princess has NEVER been before.

An actual rock band concert. It wasn't the typical J.T.-Britney Spears-kind of concert I'm used to with loads of sexy background dancers and elaborate stage frills. Nope. They kept it simple and let the music do all the entertaining.

I went with my roommate Emily & my best friend Travis from back home.

We had way too much fun getting our inner rocker on.

Taking Back Sunday was good too :]

Stolen Identity.

2009-08-31T13:38:00.000-06:00

There is nothing like the BYU campus during its regular semester sessions to make you feel more ordinary and insignificant. Everyone seems to have been a cheerleader. Everyone seems to have been student body president. Everyone plays the piano and has more musical talent than Jessica Simpson. And worse, you are reminded of it every minute...as there as lines and lines of these clones EVERYWHERE you go.

I'm making my way to my first classes...

Who am I again?

Kidding.

My summer started 2 weeks ago.

2009-08-26T21:00:00.000-06:00

I went about my entire homesick Summer term (I confess. It was baaaddd), with the reassuring thought that I'd come home shortly on the anticipated 14th of Auguest to a flood/parade of "Welcome Back" parties and sobbing hugs, the effect of every Temecula inhabitant direly missing me in my two month absence.......ha.

It's this very image that I had embarrassingly enough, contrived in my head that made me completely take for granted the last week of the term. Everyone began to get all nostalgic.....but me? I began packing up my room a week beforehand. I couldn't wait to be in the warm embrace of my mom and friends who would all say something along the lines of, "Haley, Temecula changed when you first got here, and now it's changed again because you are gone..." It would be then that I'd be 150% positive that I was missed and much as I was missing them. You see, my life took a one-eighty when I left home, it's now sooo different, as everyone soon discovers when they leave the nest. I now refer to myself in the mirror as Holly Walker, not Haley. I fend for my own meals, buy my own shampoo, do my own laundry, and have to worry about BUYING "thank-you" cards, as I no longer have my mother's Willa-Wonka factory-like craft room to make them (Lu, Mom--please don't disown me). For those of you wondering, ya......I may have slept a few HSM script inspired lines in there... :]

I didn't sleep the night before my flight. I was too excited! I had a super early flight and couldn't fall asleep thousands of feet above ground either. I made friends with the couple next to me and pretended to know all about the last season of the Bachelor to sustain a conversation, read through an entire trashy gossip magazine from cover to cover, AND watched JetBlue's complimentary television set--all in a flight of an hour and fifteen minutes. And then, I'm sitting on the curb of the airport for nearly an hour waiting to be picked up.

Turns out life marched on without me. My friends made new memories and were in anticipation of THEIR departure...not my arrival. I don't know where I went wrong and became so selfish as to believe they would. "Life sucks and then you die." That's not a line from HSM. HSM would never be so pessimistic. I know, I'm ashamed!

After a few days of moping around the house, Mom decided I HAD to snap out it. So we decided to go see Julie & Julia. But that wasn't enough, so we had to see Post Grad & 500 Days of Summer-twice. The realistic perspective of the latter sobered me up, because even though it admits that life sucks sometimes, there is ALWAYS something coming up in the works that's even better! Autumn follows Summer. I LOVE THAT MOVIE. Go see it. NOW.

So with only one week left of my two week vacay at home and probably five hundred too many words blogging about it, Haley Walker has appeared in the mirror again. I miss my summer buddies.....even if they did get me in get me in trouble for being creepers at my window.

Adam & Porter are both leaving on their missions in the coming two months. So, they will no longer make guest appearances on my blog....so sad. I'm even worried I wont have anymore "Utah" typical dates!

Wait, WAIT. What was my big epiphany?! Autumn follows Summer. Keep telling myself that!

With the remaining week I had left, I took full advantage of unlimited bowling...

I'll tell you upfront that I'm terrible....but I did get my very own, very FIRST, strike! Woooo!!! Go, go Haley (not Holly). That optimism really does something for you. I even tied for first!.....in a game of trying to knock down the LEAST amount of pins. Yaaaa. That's how we do!

I also was a dancing queen at a friend's 80's birthday bash..

And wake surfed my way across Vail Lake.

I'm heading back up to P-town in the morning for a brand new semester full with the promise of BYU football season, a darling new roommate named Emily, a fun floral design class, the Brutschs, new boys!, a new season of So You Think You Can Dance, and a TON of new Cougars on campus.

Thanks Mom & Dad for a GREAT, AMAZING, WONDERFUL, FUN-FILLED, and $$$ spent visit home. It's no wonder I got so homesick! Love you so much.

Over and out till the next post y'all. Promise it wont take so long...and remember: Autumn always follows Summer.

:]

G.I. Joe- the premiere.

2009-08-09T15:06:00.000-06:00

Boys. I got stuck riding with these little ninjas......I didn't even dress up for the HSM3 premiere...that means these kids REALLY are dorks.

Adam kept trying to snuggle. But dude. The mustache was SICK. And not the cool kind of sick....I would have said DANK instead....I'm saying real disgusting sick. I wouldn't go within five feet of him. #1 mistake: that's bear fur....not facial hair. #2 mistake: it's a STICKER. (I'm shuddering right now.)

He guilted me in ONE picture. No harm, no fowl.

AND THEN. OF COURSE....

UGHHH!!! Eww!!! SICK, SICK, SICK. I nearly vomited.

Timp.

2009-08-09T14:28:00.000-06:00

I woke up on Saturday at noon. Yes, noon. I never sleep in that late...I'm lucky if I can push 10:30. But the night before my roommate and I decided to stay in together and have a movie marathon, and didn't end up going to bed until 3:30 am. When I woke up, I took a shower...got ready and had full intentions of studying for a few hours since finals are this coming week. But plans changed.... because RIGHT then I get a phone call.....another date. SO not only do boys take four hours to plan dates, they also plan dates for 2 pm in the afternoon. ONLY in Utah. I thought part of a "date's" definition was "outing or activity between two persons at NIGHT"......but I constantly am reminding myself, I'm in Utah.

Three couples crammed into a truck and were driven up Alpine Loop.....where we got out...and hiked. ONLY Utah dates do that too.

On the journey we became one with nature.

And after a what seemed like a long trek.....(I thought the pioneer trek was over?)

We reached this haven.

And then we played!

But I soon found out that the water was FREEZING! I tried to act cool anyways...everyone else seemed to be down with it.

Then we couldn't take it any longer. We were turning blue from the ice cold (supposed to be snow) water...we were at the top of the mountains!

Fun day y'all.

(P.S. And for the record Dad, the only kiss given was the one to the boo-boo on his knee!)....oh, UTAH.

2009-08-07T16:30:00.000-06:00

Only in Utah does a boy take four hours to plan and prepare a date. ONLY in Utah. Everywhere else, it's dinner, a movie, and home. Simple. Predictable. Status Quo. Oh, and they always expect a kiss at the end.... Hey, it's the truth!

It was quite the surprise when I was greeted with this:

Hayley and I (funny, huh?) had to solve the riddle attached...which had quite the astronomical twist.

They took us star gazing....but Adam preferred this type of "gazing":

Porter was much more romantic.

Then they took out plain white T's (no, not the band!) and we played war with glow-in-the-dark liquid paint.....like we were making our own constellations!

And as if the night wasn't elaborate enough, they brought out "sparklers" too!

You know what they say college does to you...

Just kidding!

Finally.

2009-07-31T15:36:00.000-06:00

It's been a week....and I have nothing to prove for it...except a couple of recent gray hairs and an exhausted brain. 2nd set of midterms, done. 2nd set of papers, check. 3rd set of the above? Got about four days. Oy vey.

A temple trip.

2009-07-20T09:04:00.001-06:00

(And it's even more pretty on the inside!)

My ward is so fun. On Saturday they planned a very hot journey to the Oquirrh Mountain Temple Open House, aboard a gigantic yellow school bus. I have no idea where they picked this thing up, but it sent some nostalgia to my High School longing heart.

This is brad modeling the school bus...

West Jordan can now officially claim to be the only city in the entire world to house two temples! And it is also the only place that you can see 4, yes FOUR, temples in the same valley! (Draper, Oquirrh Mountain, Salt Lake, & the West Jordan) It's a pretty cool sight.

The Bridal Dressing Room was my favorite. Hannah and I gasped the second we walked in.....someday. Someday not too soon. You heard me.

Afterwards our Bishop had all of us over at his house for a BBQ. Delicious. I miss home cooked meals......(though Mom your promise to Pechanga's sea food cuisine is still in tact when I get home!). And I would totally put a picture of myself up except by this time of the day I was looking pretty haggard. Soo...you'll have to settle for this instead and visualize me behind the camera, blocking any photographical evidence. Is that a word? My computer isn't saying it's not...

The what age?

2009-07-20T08:49:00.000-06:00

ICE AGE. In 3D. Probably one of the cutest movies I've seen in awhile, if you are into the whole cartoon sort of thing. (Some people are just simply not..)

But if you go see it, you have to make sure you go 3D style. Be daring! I looked like a baller :]

In my defense they looked a little ridiculous too.