Same Two Feet

So at college I was reminded of a story I've already used on this blog. The story of Peter walking on water. Only this time I think it became a little more real for me. Because, as far as I could tell, being out there for me was doing the impossible.

And I feel silly for saying that. All my friends seemed to take to college like a fish to water. I'd go see them and they'd be so happy and excited about everything. They knew fun people and went wherever they wanted like they owned the place. So naturally, I got all happy and excited for everything. Only I took it more like, well, a desert lizard to a foot of snow I guess.

And its not that it was bad. Not at all! I was very, very, very, very blessed in roommates and neighbors and leaders, and my teachers, and even my ward. And I wasn't at all under stocked on warm clothing. Its just that it was something I could hardly see myself doing. There were several days throughout both semesters that it would hit me that I was actually at college! Buying my own groceries and everything!

And those were the days when it felt like I was just walking. Like I always had been. Same two feet. Same size 6 1/2, 7s. Which, to me, was a miracle!! Because I could've made a list of worst fears before I came.

• Getting lost
• Crashing my car
• Slipping on ice
• Culture shock
• Crashing my car
• Crazy hard homework
• Chronic Homesickness
• No Grandma's House
• Working out where everyone else is working out and they can all see me (Yes. This is somewhat of a fear I have :-)
• Crashing my car
• Lots of people
• ...and on on

And none of that happened! I mean yeah I had to get used to a few things and yeah I really missed home sometimes. I may have pulled out in front of a car. But it was never to the extent that I couldn't find ways to figure it out. It never got in the way of my grades or my testimony or the important stuff. 

And it wasn't really until I was getting ready to leave that I realized what a miracle it was! Sure I'd fallen a few times, but my Savior had always been there to catch me. Sure there were storms raging around me with all the trials that come with life and growing up but when I refocused my gaze I was fine.  I had done it! In the terms of Annelie, I had walked on water! 

Same two feet. Same size 6 1/2, 7s. But with the help of one who'd already walked those waters for me. 

Now to build up the courage for my next ocean.

Bunch of Bricks

So I'm finally back. Last semester was an uphill battle for me and I don't know what possessed me to think I'd have more time to write this in college. But I did make a list of the ideas that I got and, hopefully, I can get through them before I go off an join the ranks! Translation: Chesapeake Virginia Mission, here I come!!

First off, just an announcement: I went out into the world (or, as much of the world as BYUI gets that is :) and I'm not a pancake!! I made it! I realized that while the whole 'being hit with a load of bricks' did happen, Heavenly Father graciously only allowed one brick to fall at a time. Like when I naively signed up for one of the World Studies Foundations classes and took Pakistan. Yeah. Nightmares. But it was good for me. I often felt I was the only one visibly cringing and ducking behind my Disney-sticker-decorated laptop at some of the things we discussed but it allowed me to view some of the world at, I guess, a safe distance.

Another brick was my Foundations Capstone class where we look at real-life issues such as child labor laws, the death penalty, and the like and make decisions on them. We also talked about how foolish it can be to not only be a pessimist, but a full-fledged optimist.

Oops.

This didn't help me as I was already trying to figure out how to take everything else in. I wanted to be happy. To see the world and the people around me like I had before. But now I noticed more things. I guess it was only part of growing up, but I didn't like it. So its a good thing that teacher followed up with that statement because I might've been left a mess.

He said that what we really need to be was, what he called, an improver. Pessimists didn't see the solution and optimists didn't see the problem. In order for us to really make a difference in the world, we needed to see both.

Lightbuulb!

"Well, gee, I'm all for making differences," I thought to myself. That changed the semester for me. Instead of just complaining or turning my head the other way I learned that the best way to cope was to see what I could do about the problem, always trusting on my Father in Heaven. Especially when the problem was out of my circle of influence, like in my Pakistan class.

So that' s basically what that bunch of bricks taught Annelie. I learned that I could choose to be flattened, I could choose to ignore them, or I could take them and build a beautiful castle.

And I learned that we're never given more or less than we can use. We're given just what we need according to the Great Contractor of Castles.

A College Kid's Prayer

Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child's prayer?  Some say that Heaven isn't just far away, but doesn't even exist. And there are times you aren't quite as close when I pray.

Heavenly Father, I remember now, something that Jesus told disciples long ago. "Suffer the children to come to me" ...Father am I still pure enough to come now to thee?

I often feel I know too much. Or do I know too little? Of all the subjects, grades, and credits Heavenly Father, will you teach me?

From the genius of thou who put molecules and planets into orbit, wilt though help me find my center?

From He who numbers the sands of the sea and the hairs of my head wilt thou open my mind so that I may add the positive and subtract the negative. That the tears of frustration that stain my path from the testing center may become ones of joy on the path to victory.

From the great musician who orchestrates the harmonies of birds on a sunny day and the percussion of rain on cloudy ones, wilt thou show me how to use my whole lungs and sing with the varied key of each new day a song of praise.

From the master record-keeper and historian who has heard the drums of war and tasted the fear of every soldier wilt thou show me the significance of my own battles? My own history which lies not in illustrated text but in a scribbled notebook.

From the creator of art who painted the sunsets and carved the mountains, remind me that I and those around me were molded by thy masterful hands and that such a mold was never intended to create duplicates. To beautify the lives of others as you have so bountifully beautified mine.

Because, now that I've opened my eyes, you have. I thank you for your miracles. For the fact that I can function on the lack of sleep that I do. For extending time somehow, Father, because how else would I fit all that I do into one day? For strengthening my legs as I race from class to class and softening my chair as I do pile after pile of homework.

I thank you that the taste of sandwiches and granola bars has yet to grow old. That there are nice people who not only fix my car battery but accept my lousy cookies--because we both know they were lousy. I thank you for thrift stores, sewing kits, and nearby ice cream shops. For therapy like friends, dishes, dances, walks, and free tutoring sessions. For the concourses of angels, seen and unseen. For this stillness.

And with these thoughts, Father, I see now that you are here.

That you are listening. To every compliment and every complaint.

That I am your child. As are all those I pass by every day.

I realize your love has surrounded me, whether I've initially felt it or not.

You hear every prayer.

You love every child.

And of such love--love that can make me pure--is the Kingdom. The Kingdom of Heaven.

Scary Storms

First off, I'm just glad to be functioning today. Between my first two airplane flights, cramming a hundred and five hugs/activities into one week, and then trying to dive back into new classes its no wonder my roommates have been laughing at my recent thinking process. It goes well with my hair color. Makes it stand out more :) And I think its those laughs that made me survive it.

Because its been more than that. I've titled it "Before Mission Syndrome". Or I guess, just life. Discouragement that make your goals seem dark and foreboding and temptations that make less-than-goals seem appealing. Both create a pretty thick cloud of darkness and I've learned to push through them from last semester. But when you have homework to do, dances to attend, and Disney songs to sing to your roommates, there's less time to really focus on the moving forward part.

So I sometimes get stuck. And when I finally have time to breath--like in church--it really hits. With each new lesson I felt more overwhelmed. I felt I had nothing left inside me to give, let alone have a good attitude about it. Yet, I did my best to make some convictions with the idea that perhaps trying them would help me feel back to normal. Especially since a lot of them were focused on service and things that really do "un-slump" you, as Dr. Suess would put it :)

But even then things seem to get worse and if there's one thing I've learned from all this, its that the adversary is real. Voices that seem to slide so easily and so disguised into my thoughts began to whisper that it was a hopeless cause. I had too much to do. I didn't have time to do my roommates dishes. And I'd been reading my scriptures and saying my prayers all week, so why was I feeling like this today? Did I even have the strength to do any more?

Of course, lots of good things happened this week. There were lots of moments of enlightenment, lots of laughs, and lots of prayers of thanks said on my part. But suddenly all I could see were the harder moments. Stress from my classes when I realized I forgot new assignments. My more negative thoughts I'd had towards others and myself. My weaker moments that ate at my self-worth.  The day I came home from class, flopped on my bed, and just began crying from fighting thoughts like this to begin with.

Finally, by the time Relief Society started, I was ready to spiritually throw my hands up and stop battling it.
"Oh well," I thought. But, strangely, that became almost a stronger inner battle cry than a call of surrender.

Oh well. So what if I'm not everything I want to be. So what if this hasn't been the best week for me. So what if I don't know how to handle every situation. So what if I sometimes go days with prayer after pleading prayer in my heart and hear no answer.

Then, with a conviction I didn't know I had, I told those nasty voices that I'd gone all morning doing what I'm supposed to do without feeling rewarded, I could go my whole life! Which...in retrospect I'm not quite sure that I could. It may have been a little bluffing, but it was enough to motivate myself to participate in class anyways. And as I did, my voice sounded much stronger and much calmer than I felt. And that helped. There truly is power in participation.

And then we read Alma 5:33, "Behold, he sendeth an invitation unto all men, for the arms of mercy are extended towards them, and he saith: Repent and I will receive you."

But for me it was more of a "I will receive you." A sincere firmness that instantly brought tears to my eyes and cleared away the whole storm. No matter what silly thoughts swirled in my mind, the truths of truths was that if I doing the things I knew I needed to be doing, my Savior was there.

I guess what I'm getting from this is one of my new favorite quotes, "Don't tell God how big your storm is, tell your storm how big your God is."

And no matter how fruitless our efforts may seem, it's SO true that you cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return. He just might wait until you have room in your pantry to receive it :)

One Semester Down!

Well…I made it! It was crazy to me today as I knelt down in a prayer of tearful thanks for a great semester that about four months ago I’d done the same in tearful anxiety. It was a whirlwind, just as everyone told me. Days flowed into weeks which flowed into months which flowed into a semester. I’m not sure how it happened, but it did. And I realized today as I bore my testimony in the last sacrament meeting of the semester, just as I had the first, that I sounded much more confident.

Obviously I’ve learned A TON!!!  It is college after all. Art class doesn’t let me see my surroundings the same ever again. Math class taught me finances and the power of missionary work. Science, a different take on the evolution theory, and American Foundations how to be closer to the sort of citizen the founding fathers intended.  And missionary prep has me wanting to grab my scriptures and hop a plane.

But there are other classrooms. My dorm has taught me the power of patience, persistence, prayer, and hugs. And mostly of making sure it’s not my dishes that are dirty before I up and decide that everyone else’s needs some cleaning.

Dancing activities has been another classroom. Because unfortunately there’s little instruction on the fancy footwork of social skills.

And the temple has taught me plenty as well, most of which tied to the common theme of slowing down. A good lesson for a college kid who tries to cram lunch, her favorite show, remaining homework, and devotional all in between two of her classes.

And we all know of the classroom of mistakes of course. That’s one we graduate don’t from until we leave the planet.

But overall it’s been just what I felt it would be. A journey with my Savior. I’m sure He smiled at my near-conniption reaction to someone trying to hold my hand and my similar response when I basically ran a red light. But I also know that he cheered with me with my successes and cried with me with my disappointments. There were many instances when I didn’t feel it and I was tempted to think that the Heavens had suddenly grown numb towards me—or worse—I’d grown numb to them.  But sitting in a fog doesn’t get you out of it near as well as pushing through it does.

And this certainly isn’t my first journey. Just my trip to the airport for my first flight EVER has told me that J I still have more semesters ahead of me. And a mission. And a future family. And a dream career. And wherever else I feel the wind pulling me I suppose, like my childhood hero Pocahontas.  ...Although I don’t remember Pocahontas ever bawling her eyes out at the idea of leaving her little brothers and her grandma’s icecream and her warm fireplace--to say nothing of my second hero John Smith. But that’s beside the point J Either way, I can’t wait to see what’s around the river bend.

Until then, I can’t wait to get home!!! Even if it is for just five days. I’ve got friends’ ears to talk off, Mr. Gs pizza to eat, and—yes—pretend games to play. And when you have a little neighbor girl who promises to stay up until midnight to see your car drive up into the driveway, how could you not. I haven’t met many celebrities, but I think I may have some top hand there J

Hope and Healthcare

My mission prep. teacher is inspired. I'm completely convinced. Not only has his assigned pattern of scripture reading saved me on a daily basis, but so has the big 'project' he gave us. We're supposed to choose one of the Christ-like Attributes listed in the Preach My Gospel manual and develop it throughout the semester. For a grade, because this place is awesome like that. I felt to choose Hope.

I was skeptic of this feeling at first. It just sounded too..., I don't know, happy-go-lucky? Easy? Besides, I'd never really seen myself as the type to dwell in despair. But the more I read about it and thought about it the more I realized this was the one I needed, as it was the beginning of the semester. I was feeling a little stretched thin between things and had, as a result, let those pesky little doubts strike yet again.

Most of the battle has been evident internally as I insist to myself that things will work out--just as they always have--and that I will measure up to all I need to do. But it wasn't until this weekend that I saw a more tangible example.

I had walked into the student healthcare center looking rather lost until the guy at the desk told me he could help me.

"Okay, thanks," I hurried over, "I need...I'm going on my--a--mission soon and I was wondering what I needed to do...for that."

Luckily he was able to translate and began lining me out for immunizations and a physical. I felt rather relieved until he looked up and said,

"Social?"

Blank!!

"Um...it's uh...erm...heh...hmm...I don't remember. I think its..."

"You can bring it next time. Just make sure you do. Now, what block are you on?"

"First. ....oh! I mean winter-spring. Heheh, sorry."

He sort of gave me this smirk I was sure was reserved for freshmen only but I did my best to smile and act like I knew what I was doing anyways. Finally, after a suffering through a few more stuttering sentences, I finally left.

It wasn't until I got a good five feet away from the building--after rattling off my social security number too myself like nothing--that I burst into laughter. I'm sure I looked totally adequate for a mission with such an eloquent performance.

And then, as I continued to walk home, I realized it tied perfectly into my project. Hope really was a Christ-like trait. And it wasn't always easy. It meant taking my stuttering, naïve words and full-on believing that they could be turned into something else. They could be made into powerful tools. Tools that would reach to the very soul, not just to the skeptic ears.

It was believing that He could take my limited view of the world and turn in into something that could help someone else see the world more broadly. Believing that He would turn my hard days into my most meaningful and most favored ones.

I've learned that hope isn't just the stuff of happy-endings--while it certainly is so, and I'm a firm believer in them--but its more the stuff of what happens before all of that. It's an anchor when things aren't happy at all.  Just as when Christ healed those whose circumstances seemed permanent or gave words of light to those in lost in darkness. Or when he forgave those who crucified him. 

Hope is peace and, as one of my favorite youth speakers once said, peace is something deeper, something more sustaining than happiness.

Like I said, inspired.
 

One-On-One Field Trip

We're already planning the closing social in the 33rd ward over here. And yes, I said 33rd. Holy mass Mormon exodus every Sunday! It took me two weeks to figure out where all the different classes were at and twice that to come to grips that we had 3 different relief societies within that one 33rd ward.

But, back to the point, this semester, as everyone promised, has FLOWN by!! And I have failed horribly at doing any of it justice on this blog so I'm going to try and fix that today. Try and make-up for it, because deciding a major was only one of the adventures. And a pretty mediocre one at that. So, here's the skinny of Annelie's Crazy College Chronicles.

1. Between me and my roommates, we have zero decorations in our living room. But we have plenty of expressive noise. A good mix of classical music, OneDirection, Asian dramas in Japenese, Harry Potter, Phineas and Ferb (my contribution), bursts of laughter over the latest pun by our home evening brothers, and a snap or two at whoever forgot to replace the toilet paper.

2. Security guards and hopping walls. A first in all time Annelie history, I assure you. But when you forget to move your car out of the driveway so they can plow out the foot of snow in the parking lot, its either move it and miss curfew or get it towed. I love the super-helpful security guard who didn't have the keys to the gate of the apartment complex. "Well. You can text a roommate or climb over."
I've done both since. (If only to say that I've done the second ;)

3. Swing dancing workshops are great. And the actual dances after are even better!
"Alright, who has a birthday in February? ...Only one person? What's your name? Annelie? Cool. Hey 19--that's missionary age. Now, all you guys in here, let's circle around Annelie here and see which one of you can dance with her the most!"

Somehow I came out of all that unscathed other than a loose flower pin. An impressive feat on their part!

4. I hear choirs of ego-stroking angels singing in Writer's Workshop. I never thought it was possible for people to love my characters as much as I do. Me and the fictional Clavis de Veritas have been making out like literary bandits! And this is to say nothing of the horizon-broadening ideas those people have presented! I would've never in a million years thought up the sorts of ideas my fellow writers seem to come up with! It's awesomeness all over the place :D Now if only my swing dancing, would stop taking over...

5. Mission Prep is worth graduation credits. By rights that shouldn't even be fair, but at a school like this it is. And it rocks! I think a good way to describe my teacher is that he's recently been called to be a mission president. He's so...just amazing, that I almost hate asking questions because they sound so dumb and petty compared to his vast understanding. But, as a little voice said to me as I was leaving class one day, sometimes it takes asking the dumb questions to accumulate the wisdom you need.

6. The temple is a fifteen-minute walk from my front door. One word: spoiled! But it's been an amazing tool for me. Someone said at church today that, contrary to what they had expected, they actually feel like they have more trials on this church campus than their high school where they were the minority. But they made an interesting point, that maybe here is a place that the Lord knows we can learn and grow away from those other things and so we're given trials in order to do that. I think I agree with that person. In that father's blessing I was given before I came it even said I'd be faced with trials. And not just flu bugs and frozen car doors, but deeper ones. And boy have I been.

So many times 'clouds of darkness' have hovered over me all day. Clouds of discouragement or confusion or just feeling negative and overwhelmed. They might leave for that mission prep class but they're there waiting outside the door for me as soon as its over. And they strike especially hard those few moments before devotional or Friday mornings before I go to the temple because its those two things that really help me to fight them off. And not just on those days, but in the moments in between. I've gained lots from battling them, including a testimony of the temple. I think I've gained a greater testimony of it here than I ever really had at home, actually. And I guess it shows because the temple workers have started saying as I leave, "See ya next Friday!"

7. Dating...oh dating. That's almost become a whole different chronicle, though I've really only gone one dates with two different guys. Almost three. The first one sent me a text asking if I wanted to 'hang' and I about referred him to every journal entry I had on homecoming, prom, and whatever else to let him know how you really did things. Guess those good ol' joe city guys have me spoiled with putting donuts in my locker and mannequins in my car. :)

And then there's that super sweet guy who made the mistake of trying to hold late-bloomer, naïve, awkward Annelie's hand. Poor, poor guy. I strategically avoided it for at least half the walk home by grabbing his arm in attempt to make him escort me instead but my play-dumb strategy only lasted so long before he finally grabbed my hand. Only...I couldn't bring myself to grab back so my fingers just sort of hung there. Awkwardly. Cracks me up now, but I was about in panic mode in the moment--something I'm sure you can all imagine. My inner alarm system went off in the form of a sudden passion on the topic of my mission prep class, my mission prep teacher, my mission prep lessons, and basically anything else that said, "You don't want this blob of weirdness on legs. Trrrust me".

And then on a creative home-made egg-noodle and carving Batman out of candle date, I accidentally made the guy bring me home an hour before the later Friday-night curfew. But hey, I wasn't about to climb any more walls.

8. I could easily brag--and support with facts--that I have the best home evening brothers on the entire campus. Who else goes snowboarding in the other brother's cow costume? Who else writes the dumbest things on your birthday card or cracks jokes in his natural British accent? Who else starts touching people's ankles in the middle of murder in the dark to make them jump five feet in the air or leaps off of your balcony rather than taking the stairs? They give you hugs, pelt you with snowballs, trash you at card games, pick you up and throw you in the snow, teach a lesson with a Rubik's cube, sincerely tell you that your 'dating score sheet' ought to be kept in the bathroom, speak like champs at stake conference, bury you the snow, keep a lifetime supply of pineapples and hot-chocolate in their dorm, and give you a ride home after your soaked from your hair to your socks. There's eight of them and we LOVE them!!

9. Netflix. Am I right?

10. Oddities. Whether you have a knitted Viking hat with a full-blown beard, a top-hat and Mr. Darcy scowl to match, a swim-cap over a cowboy hat, a beanie with moose antlers, or a song on your iPod that you apparently want the whole campus to hear, you people make my day! I actually went out of my way to get a newspaper from the guy dressed up in suspenders, brown shoes, and cap shouting, "New Missions announced, read all about it! Extra, extra!"

11. Teachers!! That's another thing I've always been blessed with and it continues here. My math teacher is just good--inside and out. Good and logical and fun and simple. Very important traits for me when it comes to math. My art teacher makes my gut hurt from laughing, my American Foundations teacher was probably friends with the founding fathers in the premortal life, and my science teacher's passion is hunting and fishing.

12. Leaders. I've been blessed to always have bishops I adore. I think I could take this one back with me to Joseph City and he'd fit like a glove. The guy reminds me so much of hometown bishop and I think there's a reason for that :) It's the same with Stake presidents. I tend to get about the same excitement about hearing my stake presidents speak that I get when a general authority speaks.  President Spencer and President Hancock will always hold a super-special place in my heart and I can tell this guy's gonna grow on me quick as well. My dorm mom invites us over for Tangled and The Emperor's New Groove. And my relief society president's talent is quite literally to hug. She shared it at the talent show and everything. So, overall, I think I'm in good hands :) And because of all of them, those sacrament meetings that seemed to be dedicated to my current concern still happen, just as they did back home.



So He was right all those nights ago when I was walking away from my parents. He's got me. I've definitely hit some rough spots. I left choir practice early once and raced out of the church building just in time for a flood of sobs and tears to come flowing. I've had to learn to be patient with roommates--or rather, to look at my own reflection--because I no longer have my own room and my own elbow room of five or so miles when I need to get away. I've been stressed. I've been bitter. I've even been complacent.

But I've been fighting, praying, and pushing harder than I ever remember and He's never left my side. There have actually been a lot of times when that sensation of someone's arm around me returns, often just on my way to my next class.

 I remember feeling at some point that this would be a journey with my Savior. Like He was pleased with what I'd learned so far in life, but now He was taking me aside. Taking me with Him on a one-on-one field to a place completely different. A place where nothing was familiar. Nothing, that is, except for Him. That way we could observe together and learn. We could see things like the newspaper boys and laugh or sit in class and absorb. But at the same time we would cry. We would experience pain and confusion. We would feel weak and tired. We would even--I might venture--argue. Like any traveling partners who have different opinions on which highway is the easiest to take.

But He has always been there! And if He's ever felt tired or discouraged it's probably been with my insisting on trying the same thing and wanting a different result or my lack of faith despite the daily miracles he unfolds before my eyes. But when I finally decide to shape up and find my tour guide again, He has been there. 

Because I no longer have my own bedroom to speak aloud during my prayers, one of my most favorite places to pray when things get "real intense" has become the humble location of the bathroom. But even there, kneeling, reasoning, and sometimes sobbing on the tiles, I have felt Him kneeling beside me and just holding me.

So to those clouds of darkness that try so hard to knock me off balance and to those negative patterns of thought that I need to knock off balance, "The Lord is my light so why should I fear? By day and by night His presence is near."
 

Picking Paths

There were lots of little moments when I first got on this campus that helped me realize I would really like it here. And many since then. Remembering that they have prayers before every class. The temple only a ten-minute walk away from my dorm. The fact that just about every door is opened for me by some gentleman. Meeting my professors (especially math, art, and American foundations). Meeting my roommates. Getting assigned to visit teach people who, in reality, visit teach me.

And the fact that they had an actual writing group.

And I have loved that writing group. From the manager who has to cut our topic of what the Disney's Beast's real name is to the expressive guy who volunteers to read my writing aloud and provides a hilariously unique voice for every one of my characters. Its great!

I feel like I basically go there to get my ego stroked. They're all really positive about my work and I always leave with a little extra bounce in my step.

And the more bouncier that step got, the more my plan for teaching elementary education has seemed to fade. Which worried me. Maybe I liked this writing group and they're lovely compliments a little too much.

So I tried to refocus. I marked education seminars in my calendar and tried to make sense of the e-mails the department sent me but it began to feel like a chore. Which worried me some more. How could helping little kids learn and develop seem like a chore?! I adored "my" little primary. I have more fun memories with my younger cousins than I do my senior class. Maybe I'd just have to push past all of this official stuff first before I got to the fun stuff.

Then I discovered that I couldn't' have a minor with that sort of major and the whole process started over again. I didn't really want to spend all my semesters studying nothing but education. I had a whole ton of other interests that I'd dreamed of discovering when I got here.

 Of course, my plan had always been that writing would come last. I even discussed this in prayer once, assuring my Father in Heaven that I wouldn't let my interests get in the way of what really needed to be done. And I was convinced that the world needs more caring, loving, and watchful teachers than it needs silly writers.

I think I still am, actually. But after lots of prayer, some talks with my parents, and a devotional, I really felt that the Lord would guide me in whichever path I chose, in this case.

So how I ended up in the advising office changing my major to English: Creative Writing emphasis, I'm not really sure. It just sort...happened. So much for my promises of before.

But I've heard that the Lord can't guide your footsteps until you move your feet. So I've moved 'em. And all I can say is that ever since then, I've been really excited. I really want to come back next semester and get going on the classes. I'm still not sure what sort of difference a crazy wizard, a mix-up of fairytales, and their author can make in the world and I might end up changing my mind again, but I wonder if sometimes that 'different path' Heavenly Father has in mind for us is the one we simply aren't lettings ourselves have.

So my new promise: include the Lord in my writing and continue to let him guide me in the direction I need to go in life. And since He's the greatest friend and missionary companion anyone could ever have, why not the greatest co-author?

 

Stepping Off the Hamster Wheel

I had just left a refreshing session at the temple and was already beginning to run through the other things I had planned for that day when I passed the little brick wall marked "Brigham Young University-Idaho".

I'd passed it before. The logo was pasted onto every sweatshirt, lanyard, and pair of headphones I owned. I logged onto the BYUI website about twenty times each day in paranoia that'd I'd miss the next notification to move my car when the plow came through the driveway.

But it suddenly hit.

Woah! I was here! And all the preparation I'd gone through suddenly ran through my head.  That CES fireside I went to that helped me make my decision. Those two 'eternities' of Spanish class that I vaguely remember. All the before hours, lunch hours, and after hours spent wrestling math. Biting my nails as I watched my older friends fill out scholarship after scholarship feeling super intimidated by it all. Deciding that only a crazy person traveled to a completely different state when her two best friends in the whole world had room for one more person in their dorm. That feeling of rejection from Utah and that magical e-mail from Idaho that followed right after.

The thought of it almost made me want to strut up to my younger self, pat her on the back, and say, "You done good, my friend."

Of course, things weren't exactly the way I imagined them. I don't always feel like this fabulously cute, mature young adult who has it all together. My roommate knows how to do my hair better than I do and when my art teacher started using the term touche (pronounced "tush") I was the only person in the entire lecture hall who giggled.

But I was here! I was at the place I was sure would be one of the funnest, most exciting places in my life!

So...why wasn't I, you know, feelin' it?  Why wasn't I content? Headaches every other day and under/over estimating my groceries wasn't quite doing it for me.

At first I brushed it off with by saying that things aren't always as big and shiny as we imagine. We grow up and reality hits.  Which is true. But it wasn't until later that day (after I had finished that to-do list and collapsed onto my bed for a nap) that I realized I didn't give myself time to be content. It wasn't so much reality's problem as it was mine. It was class, homework, laundry, class, homework, youtube, swing dance, snack, writing group, homework, mission prep, sleep. The basic game plan of the week: Sunday, inhale. Monday to Friday cram everything into brain. Saturday, exhale.

Just as I had done back home, I was always looking forwards. Saying, "Well yeah, I know I'm that. But what else can I be? What else can I do? I have this great future I want and I'm never going to get there if I don't change this. And what about this? Why did I ever do that?"

In theory, its a great habit. It has helped me get a lot under my belt and has helped me get to where I am today. But the self-punishing, rigid way I went about it has also helped my nerves trigger a few anxiety attacks in track practice.

It occurred to me that not once since I got here I had never really congratulated myself on it. I'd just got frustrated with myself in my battle against a little flu bug, pushed me and my headaches through my homework, and taken the occasional break to go out and be social if only to battle homesickness.

Next it occurred that if I was ever going to have even an ounce of fun on this campus, that unsatisfied approach to life had to go.

So what did I do? I dedicated the rest of my Friday to being happy. To being content with myself and where I was at--something I haven't consciously done in a long time. To pounding "Piano Fantasy" through the dorms and singing along to "Love Song" until someone walked in and interrupted me. And it felt amazing!!  I've since discovered that taking care of your spirit isn't just doing what you need to do and not doing what you shouldn't, its enjoying the fruits of all that effort.

Again, I'm just grateful for an immensely patient Savior and the people He's placed in my life. Their patience have made up for my lack of it. It amazes me how gently he approaches me about the same problem over and over and over and over again. Because I know I've already written about this topic in many different forms at many different times. But I think, now that I'm able to look back at more experiences, that it's finally clicked for me. At least I hope.

So, new game plan:

Sunday, sit in a spiritual hot-tub, so to speak, and relax. Soak up all the insights inspirations I'll probably need for the coming week.

Monday-Friday, be fascinated by what I learn and find my own angle or depth to it. After all, this is "The Lord's University". What does He want me to learn about His creations? His works? Next I'll laugh lots, smile plenty, discover new ways to make spice up a ham and cheese sandwich.

Saturday, go on a long walk, pound away on the piano again, go on a group date with my laptop and the fictional characters in my head, go on a normal group date, do some hairbrush singing, make snow angels--something!

And because things aren't always as big and shiny as I like to imagine and some weeks will be more stressful than others, a weekly temple trip. That way it will be just what President Clark always says at each devotional, "Another great day at BYU-Idaho."

In short, just be content! I saw a sign on campus the other day that said something along the lines of, "In the great pursuit of happiness, one ought to stop and just be happy."

100th Post!!!

I got really excited when I realized this. In fact, I wasn't really going to write anything today until I saw the 99 number because my week was pretty normal. Well...besides the fact that my roommates have now taken over on driving my car because my Joseph City traffic skills don't quite cut it. And the fact that the substitute for my Mission Prep teacher knew exactly who I was. Which--quick side trip--felt like one of those stories when some mysterious person shows up and pulls the main character's name out of thin air. All I did was volunteer to play the piano. Then he sort of tilted his head.
"Are you from Arizona?"
"Yeah, I am."
Further head tilt, "...Joseph City?"
Inner jaw drop, "...Yeah! I am!"
"Oh. Hello Sister Hansen."

Eerie. But amazing! I later figured out he had served in the Winslow stake for a time. I guess they were right when they said you can find Joseph City just about anywhere :) Now if only I hadn't forgotten to ask how he knew me.

Anyways, the whole post number thing got me thinking just how far blog has come.

It originally started out as a sort of tentative Personal Project idea. I started noticing all these little object lessons throughout my day and thought, since a different project I had wasn't working so well, that it might be cool to write those lessons down and put them somewhere where someone else could find them. Someone who might need them. I originally intended for any search engine surfer who happened to stumble across it and thought it might be a cool missionary tool. But these were all doubtful ideas. I really didn't think it'd go anywhere. I almost stopped once I hit ten hours. But thanks all of you super-supportive, super patient, and super-loving people, I didn't.

And it is a service. A true one. Because what do these 100 posts contain?

Memories, writing practices, silly metaphors, goofy wordings, and inexperienced outlooks. Doubts, fears, laughs, and loves. Pictures, compliments, lessons, insights, and emotions. Tributes, trials, and triumphs.

It has answered prayers. It has helped me discover myself as I put things into a clearer perspective. It has taught me what the Holy Ghost feels like. It was put experiences in new light. It has helped me see the hand of God in the details. It has watered my seed of testimony even though, at times, my emotions watered the keyboard.

Basically, these 100 posts cover my transition from teen to adult. Looking back, I'm tempted to cringe at some of my entries. About how clever I remember thinking I was or how childish my wording sounds but I realize now that that's the point. There's no way I'd be able to have the insights or outlooks I have now if I didn't have those.

And though my car handling skills obviously haven't progressed much since those driving class days, my personal roads have still split into two lanes (which, actually, we do have in our small town. We also have street blocks. Just clearing up that mistake. It's been bothering me for months :). And not just two lanes, but three or four.  Life seemed to get bigger at the same time I did, and  there's no way in the world I'd be where I'm at if I hadn't take time to notice all of the street signs along those roads.

You know, the ones marked, "Keep Right."
 

A Girl's Flu

There's one minor thing that I forgot. Before one can blossom, one must push up through the soil. The frozen, snowy, hard soil. And I guess I kind of knew this. I knew I'd get homesick. I knew I'd call my mom. I knew I'd cry. What I didn't know is that I'd have pink-eye and the flu while I was doing all of that. Suddenly I wanted the living room fireplace, my grandma's "voodoo" skills, and an afternoon of nothing but Phineas and Ferb.

But such was not the case. I had classes to go to, homework to do, and door handles to disinfect. I had blossoming to do. And so I dragged my groggy self out of bed, laughed at my eye makeup , and tried to review all the blessings I knew were in store.

And it probably shouldn't have been as big a deal as I made it, but this was really trying for me. I guess I'm not that accustomed to physical trials. And I know that sounds really wimpy, but I feel like most of the stuff I've had to overcome has been emotional or spiritual. Problems that I can solve by searching for truths and being diligent. Problems I feel a little more in control of because their a matter of my personal choices and church is every Sunday and my scriptures are right where I always put them.

Community Care, on the other hand....

4 blocks down the road. Something I didn't discover until I realized that the snow can cover up the lines on the street, I got lost twice, I pulled out in front of another car, I asked for directions from the office about three times, and I eventually drove back home completely rattled and no healthier than I had been before I left. My parents called around that time and I completely lost it. I bawled and bawled. My dad kinda laughed, in his loving, Dad-like way, and told me that the first thing I needed to do was calm down. From there, he led me to Google maps and I felt really silly, but I got my check-up.

And despite all the effort I put into things, no matter how diligent I was, I later got a stomach ache. It was only for a short while but it frustrated me. I didn't want to have to rely on the pharmacist or Google maps, or my poor roomates, or even my overworking immune system. I just wanted it to be a personal thing that I could handle on my own and see a positive result of my own actions. Meaning I really needed this one.

And surprisingly it all ended rather quickly. The night after I took the doctor's prescription, things cleared up. My eyes weren't so red, the sun was actually shining. It felt great! So then I, of course, have to try and complicate things again and figure out what exactly what I had learned from it all. In semi-witty, blog-post form of course. I thought about it last night and all through church today. I puzzled and puzzed 'till my puzzler was sore. And there was lots. Simple things that made sense to me personally and things I'd be using in the future but I kept searching for something in-depth and more complicated that I could share.

And, in relief society, amongst all my whirring thoughts and the words of the lesson it came as clear--and as "duh" obvious--as a bell:

"Don't Complicate Things."

Right. I will get this down one day.

"You Will Have a Tale or Two to Tell When You Return." --Gandalf, The Hobbit

Well, now that I have even less time than I had before, I’m going to start this up again. Now that I actually have something to talk about beyond my usual daily walks around the loop and religious viewing of Phineas and Ferb.

 I’ve decided I owe Peter Jackson a hug. Him and his uncanny movie making timing is amazing. Although I increasingly cringe through a few choice battle scenes, there’s one member of the fellowship I’ve increasingly grown to love. Pippin. Because ever since I locked my Dad’s keys in the truck. miscounted my laps in the mile at a track meet, and gave my first prom date my mom’s number instead of mine, I’ve just felt for the guy. And I loved the fact that in the end he became a hero, foolishness, clumsiness, and all. It gave me some hope on some days. :)

And then, after my the bumbling high school years came to an end and it was time to move on, he came out with the hobbit. I felt same towards Bilbo. He didn’t want to leave his little shire with its friendly people and sentimental comforts. And you guys know all about how that parallels. So it became a common theme in my house whenever the topic of college came up:

 “Mister Baggins, where are you going?”

“I’m going on an adventure!!”

And I soon realized that so was I!

Another one was from Dr. Suess—someone I’d like to have a conversation with in the next life—“Congratulations! Today is your day. You’re off to great places. You’re off and away….You’re mountain is waiting, so get on your way!” And a page I’ll probably be referring to a lot, “On you will go, though the weather be foul. On you will go, though your enemies prowl. On you will go, though the Hakken-Kraks howl! Onward up many a frightening creek, though your arms may get sore and your sneakers may leak.” I actually thought of that one walking across campus last night after a whole day of trying to locate some Wi-Fi.

And these haven’t been the only ones. I’ve realized that if it’s taken me all of this energy just to leave my earthly home, I can only imagine how much it took for me to leave my heavenly one. The reasons were the same. I knew I needed to go to learn and progress in ways that I couldn't without leaving. I'm sure my doubts were somewhat the same as well.

 And I think someone else remembered that. Because after a tearful farewell to my parents, it took a lot to fight down my emotions and walk back across the street towards campus. I moved to, then chickened out and gave them each another desperate hug. Then, not even knowing what to think--which says a lot for me--I numbly turned to go, hoping to leave all that emotional build-up behind.

I hadn’t even gotten five steps away from the truck before I felt another arm wrap around my shoulders and squeeze me tight. I felt a warm, comforting smile and even, I want to say, a reassuring wave back at my parents as my Savior walked with me across the street and towards my dorm. I might not have been in their hands any more, but I was still in His. And I felt more secure in that moment than I had been feeling in weeks. And, of course, there was no more holding back the water works after that. It was a good thing I came home to an empty dorm J

It didn't matter that I knew people who could root up and leave like Velcro while I had been the good part of a blubbering mess the past month. And it didn't matter that I felt like a sheltered little porcelain doll about to be crushed by the world and its realities. I suddenly felt strong with Him there. Like I had done this before and I could do it again. And that feeling has lingered. As it said in the father's blessing before I came, I would "blossom". A much better description than what I had in mind for myself after I left little Joseph City.

 

“Make us proud,” my parents said, “We know you will.” Whether the counsel is from Earthly or Heavenly ones, I plan to do just that.

And just as a little friendly reminder, there was a gym bag at the bookstore with the words--I kid you not-- "Oh the places you'll go!"

Follow Up

So this is the post that I knew I would post when I posted the other post. Just as expected, primary has already grown on me. I'm not exactly a pillar of organized confidence yet, but it's coming much faster than I thought it would.

I've decided my emotions sort of work like a suction cup. I quickly get attatched to things and then it takes a real effort to remove myself. I remember leaving elementry school. Unlike most kids, I was super bummed. Who in the world would want to go to a big, scary school where all you did was sit through classes all day. No recess, no arts and crafts. It didn't sound exciting at all!

And then I left high school. I've since felt myself being slowly pried away from my friends as they leave, from my favorite teachers, and just from the fun memories I have in those hallways. College still intimidates me a little but I'm not near as bad off as I was at graduation. Summer has helped calm those nerves a little.

I'm sure once I graduate from college, I'll be the same way. I just have this habit of latching myself to things and clinging tight, loving it with everything I have. And then the winds of change come and I have to pull free. It's never a super fun thing for me but then I find something else to cling to until it's time to let go again. Makes me wonder what my spirit was like when it was time for it to come to earth...

Anyways, callings are no different. I'm already falling in love with these kids. The way they focus so hard on the actions of "Nephi's Courage" and participate willingly in all the games I try to come up with. I love how the junior primary's every other answer is "Jesus!" and the senior primary's clear understanding of things. Some of them are about to enter young men's and women's. They'll fit right in. Especially since a few of them where bigger shoes sizes than me and already have me by a few inches.

So there you have it. A problem resolved. I'm sure you all already saw it coming but it just feels good to write about it. I have a feeling I'm going to have a hard time leaving this primary group now but I've learned from this that I'll manage. Flourish, even. I'll take up the art of snow angels or something in Idaho :)

There has also been other doubts resolved. For example, the fact that I didnt make it into BYU Utah. Though I'm sure I don't know all of the reasons yet, I have discovered a few. Had I made it in, I would've left right after I graduated. Now I have until after Christmas to leave and this summer has been one of great growth for me. I've noticed things in myself that I didn't notice during the busy days of school and my parents have been able to teach me some valuable lessons that I don't think I would've learned otherwise. I've gained knowledge I'd much rather have before I went off on my own.

In other words, there is truly a plan for all of us. I see now that Heavenly Father's individual children are never at the back of his mind. They are always at the front. He knows just what we need when we need it and we simply need to trust.

Fireworks in the Rain

So obviously blog posts don't come to me quite as much as they used too. I'm not sure why. I guess my mind's too occupied. It has good reason to be; between the two stories I daydream about, college plans, and adjusting to institute I'd much rather just sit down with brothers for a good session of Teen Titans or Spongebob.

Today wasn't much different. I didn't have that usual flood of inspiration that drives me to my computer for an escape route. I simply came home from church, dug out some leftovers, and wrote in my journal.

That's when I realized I'd had a pretty good week. I tend to stress the little things a lot--as you readers can probably tell-- and if making mountains out of molehills was an olympic sport, I think I'd have a fighting chance. Sometimes I'll go through my journal and just wonder why someone hasn't labeled me a basket case. Maybe I'm just a girl.

Anyways, I had been back at it again all week before I sat down to write in my journal. The cool thing about journal writing though is that if you're wordy like me you get hand cramps. So then you tend to sift through the grains of details and only record the big chunks of events. I found some fun stuff this time around.

I was feeling particularly grumpy one day and so, knowing the best cure for such a thing, I dragged Kilroy (my kindle) and I into the kitchen to make cookies for two people in our ward who had much greater reasons than me to be grumpy; they were returning from the hospital. I whipped up some no-bakes, licked the spatula clean, and then walked up to their house. They weren't quite home yet so I snuck inside and found a paper towel and a pencil to right them a note. I got halfway through when, from outside, I heard a car pull up.

Now there's only so many things you can do in a situation like this.  But I didn't know any of them so I simply threw the note away and looked around, trying to find the least awkward place to be standing when they came into their own house to find me in their living room.

An awkward moment, a rushed explanation, and a good laugh later, things settled down.  And, needless to say, my grumpy mood was gone.

I also went outside to play soccer with my baby brother this week. This has become a regular hobby lately. We have our goals marked on the lawn and the teams change each week with whatever shirt we happen to be wearing. Usually it's Team Sonic the Hedgehog and Team Burnt Marshmellows (I have a lot of black t-shirts). The usual game goes to twenty points.

Only this time he kicked into the flowing irrigation ditch and we had to fish it out. Before long it grew into a splashing fight. Then he spotted the bucket in the sand box. We also found the cat's water bowl and before long we were chasing each other around the yard until we were both soaked. We tried to finish our soccer game but we were both laughing so hard we couldn't even kick the ball straight.

He did eventually win and my pants did eventually dry but then he started it all up again. And that, I decided, was how a six year old and an eighteen year old have become best friends. I've also slept on the trampoline with my other brother this summer and we stayed up playing pokemon--something we haven't done since I was in the fifth grade.  Oh how I wish I could take those two with me! If Seth misses an episode of one of our favorite shows I can totally catch him up on it and we'll discuss it like the avid fans we are. And I won't even have to feel like a nerd.  If I can't get up the courage to do something, I can just remember Nic's words too me when he was trying to get me to rollerblade down a rather high ramp, "Just do it. Don't even think about it."
And I could sit there and watch the both of them quote Nacho Libre back and forth for hours.

So yes. Again my goal is to stop stressing the small things so I can look up and see the much bigger brighter things in life. Like watching fireworks in the drizzling rain this year and getting all the blankets muddy. The small rain drops can be distracting but if I let them get the best of me, look what I'm missing!

Dear Daddy,

1.Thanks for all those fishin' trips. I can still taste the raw corn and smell the lake water. My fascination for everything in your tackle box are still fresh in my memory from the neon colored bait to the jar of red fish eggs. I wonder if that purple dino pole and smiley-face bobber is still around...

2.  Thanks for all the silly stories before bedtime. Even when my friends came over for sleep overs. I was the envy of them all :) And I still remember the ones about the fat gummy bear who finally saw his toes and as the tomato who was terrified to "catch-up".

3. Thanks for teaching me how to fix my bike and now my car. And for showing me life's best roads to take them down.

4. For working your tail end off. Whenever I feel overwhelmed all I need is glance at the length of your daily to-do list.

5. I love the way you make friends with the guy getting gas on the other side of the meter, the cashier in Safeway, and anyone else who crosses your path. I've been with you when you helped people with their flooded basements and I've caught you cutting wood for people. I'm always proud to say your name when people ask who's daughter I am.

6. For playing with us. Whether its baseball, videogames, or restaurant coasters.

7. Thanks for the horse rides and the round-ups. I'll have fun telling my college roomates about them.

8. I love your laugh. And how you always knowing just what will make me laugh.

9. For being able to fix anything and everything. I vaguely remember wanting to test your skills at one pointby asking if you could fix a rock--obviously the strongest element there was. You probably don't remember but you said it was easy; just use super-glue. I've since been convinced that no one can top you. Whether its super-gluing a rock, my favorite toy, or my broken heart.

10. Thanks for all those father's blessings. Even if my problems sounded silly, you always seemed to recognize that they were real to me.

12. Thanks for loving Mom! And for the gentle suggestions to help her around the house.

13. Thanks for your love for the outdoors and helping me appreciate it as well. And for sharing your talents. I still remember the birthday party where all my friends and I made bows and arrows out of tamarack.

14. For that poem that I ran across one day on Mom's blog. It brought tears to my eyes and I think I'm going to print it out and bring it with me when I leave. That way I can cry some more when I'm there.

15. For sitting out on the porch and sharpening your arrows waiting for my first date to show up :)

16. For brake checks in the truck.

17. Thanks for that one night when you stayed up late with me on the couch giggling at my newest VeggieTales movie. Perhaps there's a deeper reason to why I haven't been able to let go of those.

18. For the random phone calls just to say hi and the random notes on my pillow just to say I love you.

19. For encouraging me in everything I do. Whether its writing, piano, clay, my knack of puzzles when I was little, reading, trying to make friends, or  attempting to do my own hair for a dance.

20. Thanks for your constant imagination! Like the time you quenched my boredom by flipping through the channels on our T.V. to teach me how old members of our family were.

21. For daddy-daughter dates and long conversations in the car.

 I guess what I'm trying to say is thanks for letting me be one of the luckiest daughters on earth!  You made my childhood magical and my teenage years exciting. I got to be one of the little girls who the first guy she ever fell in love with was her daddy. All those college boys have a lot to live up to!

A Joyful Noise

So now that I'm 18 and I've graduated I've only actually gone to Relief Society once. Long enough to try and smile as they welcome me and every head turns my direction. And long enough to hear a much needed lesson.  A great place! I'm sure once I'm a full-fledged member I will come to embrace it.  But, as of now, I have been called as the Primary Chorister.

At first I thought, sure. I can do that. Afterall, I feel more like myself around little kids than I do my peers (not sure what that's supposed to tell about me...). But, the more questions I asked and the more I thought about it, the more my constant companion, Ms. Anxiety, kicked in. First off, I've been told my entire life to speak up. When I write it's no problem. My ideas flow and the keyboard clicks up a storm. I can laugh really loud too. But speaking? Over an entire classroom of wiggles and squirms? I wasn't so sure.

I also talk really fast. I tend to eat fast, walk fast, read fast, draw fast, get ready in the morning fast, play the piano fast--the only thing that I don't do fast is run. So what if I rushed through every thing and couldn't fill up even the measly twenty minutes I was allotted each class?

What if the kids got bored? What if I overdid things? What if the building blew up?!

It was silly but I even had dreams about it. Dreams! Of missing hand puppets and intimidating audiences.

I've since decided that if there's one thing I'm supposed to learn here in mortality, its to relax.

Anyways, prayers were obviously said and I mentally ran through all that I had planned twenty times. Because, for some really strange reason, the girl who found excuses to watch the Swan Princess on Saturday nights and played pretend on Sunday nights couldn't face a bunch of primary children.

And those prayers were answered. From the get go even. My neighbor's little girl came in and, at the sight of me, began jumping up and down, "Dolly, Dolly Dolly, Dolly, Dolly, Dolly!!" The other leaders just turned to me with a smirk, "Welcome, Sister Hansen."

I also discovered that this month's song is "Nephi's Courage", reminding me that the Lord provides a way. Whoever decides those types of things knows what they're doing.

Then, of course, the warm feelings telling me to calm down. Those feelings I need to learn to trust in more often.

But, as it usually seems to go, most answers came in the form of people. I was immediatly given encouragement, ideas, and pointers out the wazoo. Schedules and supplies were given, visiting teachers visited, and my mom had lots of wisdom to share.

Even in the actual class. People reminded me when to get up, the piano player whispered to me the page numbers and suggested songs, and the kids actually got into some of what I was doing. I even got a cookie from one of the teachers at the end because I 'did so good'.

I'm really going to need this calling. The simple lessons, the energy, the humor--all of it! Trying to prepare for a complicated world has unravled me a little but the excitement in the kids' eyes and the randomly shouted answers do the trick well. And I think someone already knew it would.

I've been told I'm good with kids but I think what it really is is that kids are good with me. Though I'm sure when I have my own I will find them more tiring, for now I find them refreshing. They boost my ego like nobody's business and remind me that I don't need to take life so darn seriously.  And so I've decided to "go and do". To grab those in tact hand puppets and soak up the obnoxious, rambunctious but joyful noise.

The Gist

So after a busy, crazy month, I'm finally back!

It still hasn't really clicked that I've graduated. It hasn't quite set in that I might never see some of those classmates again or that I'm now old enough to date college-age guys. And that's partly my fault because ever since January, I've refused to think about it. Pondering such things really isn't a good thing for sentimental hearts; I would know. I still don't have senioritis because of that. People would announce that it was our last Friday ever and cheer while I would sulk. Those halls held tons and tons of memories and I didn't want to be torn from what was familiar and thrown into the big, unfamiliar world.  But, I've since recovered some. Prayers and people have helped. I've been able to muster up some more courage to face the world--naivety, lack of cooking skills, and all--and know that, in reality, I won't be alone. I never have been. And the Dr. Suess quote used by our Valedictorian in his speech said it perfectly, "Don't be sad because its over; smile because it happened."

That's the goal for this post. To smile at what has happened and give a sort of tribute to everything that made it so great. In short, the hows and whats and whos of why I have that diploma.

1. AR Books. They got me in trouble in Chemistry class but oh how they helped! There were days when all I looked forward to (other than lunch) was that twenty minutes they gave us to read. Getting lost in fictional worlds has always been a hobby of mine.

2. Teachers!  I've had the best of the best. English teachers that really show me how to do things on my own, Math teachers who come before school, at lunch, or a few minutes after to help me with my constant strugglings in that area. And the P.E. teacher who gave me the Oustanding Student award for trying.

3. Lockers. And friends who clean them out for your birthday. I've since become a little more organized.

4. Creative Dates. From the manquin in my car to the donuts in my locker and from mud-bogging to paint-ball with slingshots. Thanks guys :)

5. My parents. They will always be my lifeline. Whenever I've forgotten my homework, broke down in tears over the drop of a hat, or chatted on and on about my latest story idea they've always lovingly put up with me. I pretty much owe them everything.

6. My friends. Some have been close since kindergarten, others since this year, but all were needed! I've been lucky enough to have 'good' friends. Great friends. Ones that would never lead me to the dark corners, but only the places of light. Ones that were full of clean jokes and contagious laughter. Ones that knew me so well they brought and extra towel to girls camp, knowing I'd likely forget mine, and brought over a spotted cake when I had chicken-pox.

7. Peers. I've had the privlege to grow up in and LDS community which does wonders for the High School career. Peer pressure is positive in my class. I have a 4.0 GPA and still rank in 5th. Everyone is either an athelete, a musician, or both. Of course, all the drama seems to have flown over my head all these years but at least I don't have to put up with near the things I read in the New Era. It might come back to bite me later in the form of culture shock but for now, I love it!

8. Family. Immediate to the extended, I've constantly felt like I have my own personal cheer squad. Everyone thinks I've done such a good job at things but how could I not when I have support systems out the wazoo? No matter what it is, they're there in the audience. Or if they miss that, they're clapping me on the back Sunday night at Grandma's or when we go to Phoenix to visit. Even my ward family seems to be in on this. I've been given so much in this area I feel that if I don't do something, I'm going to be in trouble.

9. Siblings. Niclaas for years of Pokemon, Harry Potter, and keeping me in line and Seth for Phineas and Ferb, Teen Titans, and throwing me back out of line. I want to stuff them both in my suitcase.

10. The Gospel. One of the biggest parts of my life both literally and figuratively. Seminary, church meetings, mutual, callings, tear-filled lessons, leaders, teachers, scriptures, firesides, girl's camp, EFY, temple trips, youth speakers, General Conference--I think Heavenly Father knows how to deal with teenagers. Or at least this one. And I'm sure H knows how to deal with young adults too.

11. This blog. And all of you who read it and keep telling me to write it. It helps me put my life in perspective when things get confusing and reminds me that I'm not as bad off as I sometimes think.

12. Teacher's Aid Hours. A whole free class period to work on English and Precalculus assighnments after procrastinating! The senior's best friend.

13. Modeling Clay. I loved coming up with new things to display in the library. It kept my creative side going and even cheered me up on my rougher weeks when I'd giggle at my own ideas or people would compliment me in the hallway on the way to class.

14. Sleep. It works miracles.

15. Extra notebooks, both for when I forgot my original ones and for when I'd get ideas. I think every notebook I own holds excerpts from at least one story I've tried to write. Some have more. It's always fun to go back and look through, jumping between the adventures of Agent Trian Gull and the thoughts of air-elemental Airika.

16. Stake Dances. A good hunk of my social skills were formed there, as well as a good hunk of laughs.

17. My iPod. It's edges are now scraped and its surface scratched from years of driving class, sports trips, running, dancing when I'm supposed to be doing my make-up, mowing, and lots and lots of dropping.

18. My phone(s). The poor thing. I've missed so many calls and texts and even left one of them out in the rain. So I guess I really should be thanking my friends' patience level and my parents' budget here.

19. The little, orange pillow on my bed. There are now small mascara stains on it from having many a good cry. Looking back, I don't remember why I cried so it was probably over something of little importance, but I'm glad it was there.

20. Disney movies. I adore these things. If you think me watching them on the weekends is bad, you should've seen me at Disneyland.

21. "The Loop". My walking, running, venting, pondering, biking, daydreaming, family-home-evening, four-wheeling route.

22. My old bike that I rode through wind or snow until I got my car. Yes, I've since become wiser.

23. My art teacher who let me draw princesses and wizards instead of buildings and dogs.

24. Cold cereal. Breakfast of champions, lunch of the brain fried, and dinner of the exhausted.

25. My Buick!! It has gone through the thick and thin. The empty gas tank and the blown tire. Piling in cousins and hitting curbs. And the only revenge its ever given me is freezing its doors shut while I was inside.

I know there's more but you get the gist: the summary of my Highschool year. And I'm so sentimental its pathetic. But if it was hard for me to leave elementry and highschool I can only imagine what its going to be like for me in college. I'm sure I'll whole-heartedly embrace myself to that as well only to be pryed off again. It's alright though. I'll just keep on writing in my journal and smiling that it happened. :)

Who Could Ask For Anything More?

Besides finding a mannequin in my car with a sign asking me to prom,  this month's been pretty normal. It's also been ruled by rehersals for our school play Crazy For You. As you know, I haven't always been fond of the character I was casted as. I really knew nothing of the play at the beginning other than my part was to keep up a high-pitched voice and say super-ditzy lines. In retrospect I'm not sure why that bothered me so much; it sounded like a home video of me when I was five. I guess they just handed me my script on an off day.

Anyways, near the deadline of our rehersals, things got pretty chaotic. There were disagreements on sets, people who didn't know their lines (guilty), and still songs that needed to be learned. I came home from each rehersal tired and ready for the whole thing to be done with.

And then the actual performance came. Miracles of miracles, things seemed to add up a little better a few days before with our dress rehersals and somehow we pulled it off. Not only did we pull it off, but we had fun! Show girls were no longer getting in each other's hair and the audience could actually hear us singing. The leads did amazing and there were several side-characters that became my absolute favorites. Now I was coming home from performances excited for the next night and a little bummed that it'd all be over.

Thanks to all who came. With rehersals before and after school I really don't have much else to write about this week other than this. And a tribute to those in it. Since everyone from the ever-giving piano players to the ever-patient choreographers (my mom included :) got flowers and cards, I just want to say something about my peers in the play. I love them all--stage makeup or no! Each time the female lead would give all us show girls a hug before the show began and the lead-lead was exactly what the word implies. He basically put the whole show on his shoulders and helped to keep us all going. There was the Zangler guy who put so much into his part that he became favorite character, the cowboys who made it hard to fake-laugh while we were 'fake-talking' in the back of the scenes, and whoever it was that suggested we have a group prayer before each performance.  The improvising was amazing and the behind-stage people rocked. Then, of course, our choir teacher who took us to get pizza afterwards :)

Now I wouldn't want to be casted as anyone else! I don't have any kissing scenes, I have a punchline in every one of my lines, and don't have to act much for the whole ditz thing--it comes pretty naturally. Who could ask for anything more, right?

Hakken-Kraks

I think its been what...a month?

Sorry. So again I will proceed to give excuses. 1. My brain has been void of any new topics. Most the problems I've been facing I've already written about on here and I'm still just trying to master those hurdles. 2. General Conference (LOVED IT!!) And 3. I've spent the last two Sunday afternoons at my Grandmas. I've been having far too much fun being both a Victorian-Era business fraud and the darn' tootin' county sherriff to do much else.

So here's to trying to be at least a little more consistent. Because I need this blog. More than I sometimes realize. And it's not anything that has to do with my writing skill, rather just the writing. I have this weird brain that doesn't always see a lesson in something until its finished putting it into words. That's how my Seminary Project worked out a least.

Anyways, Easter has been great!! The best I can remember since those days when I used to get  a little pink dress, gloves, and a bonnet too show off at primary.

Part of it is because of Seminary. As those of you who follow our class' facebook page know, we had an assighnment where we were to read the Easter story from all the gospels and then record what we learned.

Again, with the writing thing, my seminary journal has helped me learn and be reminded of a bunch! As a young women's group we went to the Easter Pagent in Pheonix and then camped in the front yard of our Bishop's relative. I have scraggly notes in there from early morning scripture study in my tent and with a morning like that--what with the singing birds and cool air--it was hard to be grouchy after a late night.

I've also been able to feel so much closer to my savior through it. So much! A relationship I realized I've been slacking a little in lately what with all the senior year business and going to college anxieties. But I have since made many committments to, as President Dieter F. Uchtdorf said, "Stop it." Because a lot of that chaos clears when you allow the spirit and His love to be with you more fully.

The pagent was amazing. I've been to it before but this time still struck me. I also got my earful of protestors standing outside and of ill-timed motorcycles loudly circling the grounds but I've realized that, no matter what the world tries to prove, I'm part of something greater here. I may not know just how great and I may not be very great in it, but as of now I am a part of it and have no plans of leaving. Whenever those motorcycles outdid the speakers or whenever a protestor said something that sort of jumbled up my way of thinking for a moment, I just clung to the simple truths. I knew the gopsel was true. I knew God loved me.

And its those truths I plan on using when I go to college or anywhere else. I've been told lots of stuff this year like, "One day, Annelie, the world's just gonna hit you like a brick wall." or "See? That's why I'm glad you didn't go to that college; you'd be seriously rattled."  It's probably true. And it probably stems from all the VeggieTales comments too. But still, its not comforting. No one wants to be shoved off into the great deep--all alone--with the advice to look out for falling bricks.

So the pagent helped me with that. Because I know I tend to put myself in this little 'Annelie bubble' and chances are something's going to come along and pop it.

It absolutely terrifies me. It's sent me to my knees a few of times and is even the reason why I have yet to experience "Senior-itis". But that experience taught me that while I might not know everything--and I certainly don't--I know enough.  Yes, I'll make mistakes. Yes, I'll probably witness things that'll make me want to curl up in my closet with my disney movies. Yes, I might feel like the needle lost in the haystack on that big campus. But I've repeatedly felt that I'll be alright. In the end all will be well and--as is the usual solutino with me--I can stop worrying so much.

So, like the mature, college-aged person I'm becoming, I've decided to take advice from my favorite Dr. Suess book, Oh, the Places You'll Go:

"All Alone!

Whether you like it or not,

alone is something you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance

you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.

There are some, down the road between hither and yon,

that can scare you so much you won't want to go on."

"But on you will go

though the weather be foul.

On you will go

though the Hakken-Kraks howl.

Onward up many

a frightening creek,

though your arms may get sore

and your sneakers may leak."

So watch out Hakken-Kraks. This girl's jumping into this creek with both sneakers. (And she's taking her VeggieTales with her ;)

Voices from the Dust

I almost didn't write anything today, keeping up with my new every-other-week pattern I've got going on lately, until I read more of that biography I think I mentioned in the last post.

At first I only picked it up because I felt like I should do some family history. And because I'm fortunate to have been born in the family that I was, a whole ton of the temple work is already done. So I decided to read the biography because if all my ancestors are going to be there in the next life, I want to know enough to be able to actually recognize their name or hold a conversation with them. Especially with the stalwart people of grit and hard work that I somehow come from.

It took a little while to get into it, but reading this thing has been awesome! I've grown to really appreciate and admire the man its written about as well as other names that have come up that surprise me such as my friends' ancestor, the founder of my beloved home town, and even a name I've heard on a popular pioneer movie.

The other thing I love about it is that its really hard to worry about such trivial things like my apperance or how I'll ever survive giving my talk in church when I read about this man cleverly preaching to a hostile crowd or working his tail end off trying to make ends meet. And none of the group dates I've gone on can ever compare to the one his son went on. Him and his friends risked going to a festivity where there was a family that didn't like his friends. There was a disagreement at the gate, people got angry, and a lot of the boys got shot and wounded. The girls simply did their best with icepacks until further help came. Kudos to them. I hope I only ever have to end my dates with a hug at the door.

And then there's stories on the other side of my family my mother has told me that blow my socks off. There's haunting stories of World War II, courageous stories of coming to America with no other knowledge of English but the lyrics of some Elvis songs, and a missionary and his companion who were held captive in the jungle, their captors hoping for some sort of ransom.

Like I said, I'm fortunate to have the family that I do and I like bragging about them because then it makes me want to live up to their daunting examples. My hope is that when I pass into the next life I'll be able to see them and not be ashamed. To shake their hands and ask the man I'm reading about just what it was like to know three different prophets personally.

Anyways, I have a little shadow asking me to play the computer so I'd best go. :) I just wanted to share that. I've truely began to gain a testimony of what they call the spirit of Elijah and I just felt to post this in hopes that maybe you will too.