A Year

A year ago today I was in London. I was just starting my study abroad experience which is still one of the most incredible experiences of my life. I want to go back more often than I should (even though I was homesick sometimes). It still feels like I just got back, but, at the same time, like that study abroad was a world and a half away. In some ways, I suppose, it is.

A lot can happen in a year. It seems like such an insignificant amount of time, those twelve months, but a whole life--a whole world--can change in that period. And we hardly notice it until we look back.

A year ago today I was in London. I was learning how to live in a different culture and how to get around in a foreign city. Today I'm a little over a month away from marrying the most incredible man, I'm starting full-time at my job because I graduated from BYU, and the future is largely uncharted. That's exciting and scary at the same time. I have another year ahead of me. Another year in which life can change completely. Isn't that remarkable? I'm excited to see what that brings.

Finish Lines

There's a certain feeling that always accompanies the end of a school year. The sun seems to shine just a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer. The birds sing a just a little bit sweeter. You seem to smile just a little bit bigger, more frequently. There really is no better feeling.

Sure, there are still papers to do and exams to ace (or take), but there's a light at the end of the tunnel and that light is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. Suddenly, outside seems the best place to be all of the time, and you walk with your head up because, guess what, you're almost there. You're a few short days away from no more homework assignments, no more tests, no more heavy backpacks bursting at the seams with books and notes and knowledge.

There's something about being able to see the finish line that makes the race doable. Sometimes seeing the finish line is all you need for that last burst of energy to kick in and fly through to the end. It's remarkable, really.

So here's to finish lines. There are starting lines ahead, of course, but this race will soon be over.

The Story

It's official! There is a ring on my finger and a story to go with it. I'm engaged!!!!

Cameron proposed to me on March 25, 2016. I knew he was going to propose this last Friday, but he still managed to surprise me.

Cameron drove me to work on Friday and I was expecting him to pick me up at six and that we would go somewhere and he would propose. But then I got a note at 4:30 from Candice, one of the assistant managers here, telling me to go out the door to look for a car that would have a kind mom and my next clue. Candice told me not to worry about taking anything with me or clocking out so I grabbed my coat and phone (thank goodness!) and headed outside thinking that maybe it was work-related. So I left my backpack in the car and, because Candice told me not to, didn't clock out. Thankfully, that was easy enough for my manager to fix.

The next clue led me to the Provo temple where Cameron was waiting with a picnic. I thought that that was going to be the proposal, but when he reached into his coat pocket he was holding another clue. The picnic was to help me not be starving until we ate dinner.

The next clue led me to his sister's car and the one she had took me (Cameron didn't come with) to a nail salon on University Avenue. Cameron had purchased me a manicure and pedicure.

After that his sister, Coralee, drove me to Taste in Provo (where he took me for my birthday for chocolate tasting). The cashier had the next clue for me which told me to go outside and look for a handsome man walking around.

I found Cameron and we walked just down the street to Oregano Italian kitchen for dinner. It was delicious and perfect and I couldn't stop smiling. I felt so pampered and spoiled and loved. It was the most wonderful feeling.

After dinner Cameron and I drove up the canyon to South Fork park. His parents had set up a campfire, flowers and chocolates, his guitar, and apple cider. He had written a song that made me cry because it was so sweet, and then he got down on one knee and asked me to be his wife. I must have said, "Yes!" twenty times before he could actually get the ring on my finger (I was hugging him so my hand was a bit inaccessible).

I can honestly say that I've never been happier. I so look forward to our life together.

That Awful Moment at the End of the Semester . . .

. . . When you go to the library to work on one of many papers due in the next few weeks and you have to focus on homework instead of losing yourself in the bookshelves. Seriously. It's the worst. I'm counting down the weeks until the end of the semester and--oh yeah--graduation.

The end of April cannot come quickly enough.

Otherwise life is really good. I'm a fan. :)

Have You Ever Considered?

Have you ever thought about how weird blogging is? You put your thoughts, pictures, and stories on the Internet and then it's open to the public so complete strangers can read about the essay that was due last week or the song that made you smile. And you can follow people's families and hear about the one time they went to England or Tokyo, or when they had a child. And you don't know them outside the Internet, but you know more about them than you know about kids you went to high school with. Weird, right?

But it's also sort of beautiful. Because, if you're successful, you've managed to create something that another person can relate to (and they might even be a perfect stranger). If nobody else looks at what you wrote you still created something. You discovered a bit of yourself that maybe you hadn't recognized before. And that is beautiful, too.

An Afternoon Well-Spent

Today was rainy and I had a large amount of reading to do for classes. Unfortunately, I ordered my books too late for the most important ones to be here at the moment, so I went about looking for other ways to accomplish the reading assignments from them.

I remembered one semester that I was in the same situation and I found that Barnes and Noble had the book at their store. I sat on the floor in the aisle and read from Eats, Shoots, and Leaves. I received my textbook in the mail shortly thereafter, and didn't have to repeat the practice of being the worst Barnes and Noble customer there is. But I do continue to look at the experience fondly. It was a wonderful adventure to have that evening.

I found myself in the same situation this afternoon and once again found the needed textbooks on the Barnes and Noble website. I found myself at the store thirty minutes later, wandering the aisles crowded with books, a faint smile on my face that wouldn't quite leave, the smell of glue and pages and pastries and coffee mixed together to create an enchanting feeling. Books whispered on the shelves promising adventure and experience and beauty.

I couldn't find the textbooks I needed and decided that they weren't actually to be found in the store after all. Instead of leaving, though, I continued to peruse the aisles. Technically speaking, I didn't find what I was looking for and found myself no closer to finishing my homework by the end of my outing so it could be seen as a waste of a trip.

The thing is, though, is that it was rainy today and I was in a bookstore. Therefore, there was no way the trip could have been a waste. Trips to the bookstore never are.

On Writing Papers

When I started college I hated research papers. I found them boring and technical and entirely irritating. I took a Freshman Writing course because it was suggested, and I figured it would be good preparation for the rest of my college experience. It was relatively useless because my AP English teachers in high school had been so incredible, but I did learn something towards the end of the semester.

We were to write a research paper as our final. My teacher decided to be nice and have it due the last day of finals (even though that was technically against the rules), and I, like many freshman, procrastinated like the best of them. I had managed to make it through my entire history of schooling writing papers the day before (sometimes even the morning of) the day they were due. I suppose a part of me assumed this would be similar.

I was entirely wrong. The morning the paper was due I had two, perhaps two and a half extremely rough pages. I don't remember the topic of my essay, but I do remember deciding that the last day of finals was going to be completely devoted to writing that paper.

I couldn't do it. Thanks to merciful angels in my life like my neighbor who sat by me and proofread while I wrote, that same neighbor who drove me to campus so I could turn in the essay (which I finished writing in the car), my classmate who printed my essay off for me after several failed attempts on my part, and my professor who let my classmate throw my essay into the box as he was picking it up to leave. That was the most stressful essay of my life, and I can't tell you how many pages it was (only that it was shorter than the minimum page requirement), I can't tell you what sources I used (though I can tell you that I used a citation generator to hurriedly get my sources into a semblance of a Works Cited page), and I can't tell you what I got on it, but I can tell you that I haven't turned in a paper that close to the deadline in over a year and a half.

Flash forward to my junior year: I took a creative writing class and, at the beginning of the semester, my professor told me that what we would learn would apply to scholarly writing in addition to creative writing. He told us that if we applied the principles we learned that semester, we would never have a hard time reaching a page limit again. Rather, he told us, we would find it difficult to stay within the limit. I didn't believe him. My entire junior year I felt very similarly about research papers as I always had, and I was always relieved to be at the minimum page requirement.

This year, though, something is different. I took another creative writing class from the same professor and, while he didn't give us the research paper comparison this time around, I feel like I finally understand what he was saying last fall.

As an English major I write a lot of papers. I take tests too, because that's what the university requires, but I write papers. And, because the university requires it, I write at least one research paper per class every semester (with the exception of Creative Writing). I always dread that assignment a little bit, but I've been surprised this semester by how much easier writing has become.

I have two 8-10 page research papers due this semester, one of which I have already turned in, the other of which I am currently taking a break from writing (so I'm obviously still not perfect at the no-procrastination deal). In the one I turned in already, I found myself cutting things out because I didn't have room to explore them in the allotted space. From how this current essay is going, I think I'll find myself doing the same thing. I guess my professors do know what they're talking about. I'm so glad to find out that they were right.