The truth about this culture.

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.

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

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.

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.

*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.

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.

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 :]