Moments on MUNI

(In case you missed it, I moved to San Francisco almost two weeks ago.)

So I use the MUNI train/metro/cable car system to get around here. (Still don't know what to call it.) 

I get on a couple blocks from my house and ride through various neighborhoods right to the heart of downtown each day to get to work. It’s about a half hour, which is not bad at all.

(Unless you get trapped in the underground section for 20 minutes when there’s some type of something stuck on the track that you don’t know what it is because the conductor’s voice is always muffled [unless it’s the guy this morning who wouldn’t stop talking the whole trip, telling you MUNI loves you and he also loves you]. THEN you hate your life and your mild claustrophobia threatens to give you a mini panic attack. But yeah, it’s usually a half hour.)

Being that it’s a conglomeration of all walks of life (minus the super rich, of course), you see all sorts of things. Yesterday there were two dudes who wanted everyone to know about their crazy weekends and their drunk vomiting escapades. There’s the crazy man who yells at the wall. There’s the troubled woman who yells into the air for not getting on the packed train with her stroller. There’s the adorable Asian baby sleeping on his father’s lap.

I get glimpses of the most lovely streets and parks and colors and architecture. Each house has a unique personality. Many of them are beautiful and all I want to do is stare at each one until I’ve figured it out. I will come to know them all with time.

When I’m lucky and the weather’s good, I get to see the fog slowly lift from where I begin in my neighborhood of perpetual fog to the land of suits and ties.

Yes, it’s exhausting to stand in a packed car at the end of a long day. Yes, it’s depressing to leave the sunlight and get enveloped in foggy gray when I go home. Yes, I’ve been trapped right next to an extremely affectionate lady couple. Yes, I made the mistake of sitting by a homeless man and realized in subtle horror as he kept scratching his head and I worried about getting fleas.

But I’ve missed the study of the human condition that public transportation provides. And everyone was right, people are actually surprisingly nice here.

I’m sure there will be days that I loathe my commute. But for now it provides me with a fascinating peek into the lives of my fellow San Franciscans—along with the added bonus of uninterrupted reading time. And I get to feel like a champion when I sprint for two blocks as the train is pulling past me and barely make it on.

So far me and MUNI are getting along just fine.

A Small Ode To Provo: The Newsroom

So I was going to do a whole series dedicated to my near decade in Provo. But, you know, life is busy. So I leave you with one simple essay of one place that changed me. I wrote this right before I moved a month ago.

My first few weeks working at the paper were stressful. I had just quit my full-time job at a place I’d worked at for three years. Suddenly I was surrounded by so many strangers. And these strangers were loud. There was so much movement, so much commotion. There was a TV right by my desk that vacillated among the news stations. It always seemed like the broadcasters were yelling at me. People milled about and I struggled to focus. And I had no idea how to edit a newspaper.

But then I adjusted. And I fell completely in love with the newsroom. I loved the quick pace of the work there. The high pressure. The tight deadlines. The complete lack of privacy.

Without question the people there were the best part. These loud, opinionated, honest people became some of my closest friends (some of whom would leave me sticky notes when I wasn’t there simply to tell me they missed me). I began to see myself in them.

In the newsroom you have to speak up or you will get drowned out. You have to yell across the room to get someone’s attention. You have to back up your opinion. If you don’t have an opinion, you truly have no place in the newsroom. I wasn’t a loud person before I worked in the newsroom. I wasn’t prone to raise my voice. Well, that is certainly no longer the case.

For myriad reasons, grad school was (and still is) a time when I felt stretched to my limit in every way. The newsroom was my haven. It’s where I would go when I needed a social outlet after a long stretch of solitary studying. It’s where I went to complain about boys (obviously). It’s where I went to feel completely loved and accepted. Because there I was completely loved and accepted.

As I became more comfortable with my newsroom family, I found that I also became more comfortable with myself. I came to know myself in a new way. I became a truer version of myself.

I had an exit interview with my boss a couple weeks ago. He expressed his gratitude to me for my time at the newsroom. I tried to express just how dear the newsroom is to me, but I started to get emotional so, obviously to stave of tears in front of my boss, I stumbled through some lame response.

Working in the newsroom was easily one of the best things that has happened in my life. I will never forget my time there and the beautiful people who changed me.

Newsroom forever.

My New Beginning

I went for a run today. My back was sore from sitting all day and I felt like exploring. So I went.

There was this moment of freedom as I ran. I felt alive and perfectly content. The weather was perfect. Endorphins were exploding in my body. I was in the company of several cyclists and several dogs getting walked. It was that moment when I felt like I had come home here.

I didn't realize just how out of place I felt in Provo. I've only lived in Salt Lake for five days, but it already feels like more of a home than Provo ever was. Yes, I know I'm in my honeymoon phase with Salt Lake and I'll come to a place of better reality with things here. But I feel at home here.

So here's to my new beginning. Another one. And only one in the string of many, I am sure. But so far I love my Salt Lake life.

The only thing that would make my life complete here would be a dog.

‘Everybody Take a Ride on the Peace Train’

Recently I’ve started an internship in Salt Lake, which has been perfectly lovely, but that’s another story for another day. As part of this internship, I commute from Provo to Salt Lake. Rather than drive and get road rage every day, I take the train.

When I was on my mission there was a train I would ride to get into Lisbon. At one point it goes over their version of the Golden Gate Bridge (Ponto 25 de Abril) across the river (Rio Tejo). On one end you could see all of Lisbon unfold before you, cruise ships chilling in the river, the red tile roof standing out against the grimy, old buildings. On the other side was this magnificent, green cliff. Though I loved seeing Lisbon, that cliff was my favorite view of the whole train ride. I would look for it both ways.

I love the train.

Riding the train is peaceful and perfectly pleasant. Yes, it makes for a longer day. But it’s fine by me. I catch the 6:50 a.m. train and that gives me my most productive time of the day to work on my ominous thesis. It’s quiet (unless there’s a random dude sitting across from me playing back football highlights on his phone sans headphones) and I get to sit by a window and work.

 (I’ve recently discovered how important sitting by windows is to me. I will get as close as possible to a window whenever I need to be productive. As in, I moved away from one of my coworkers on the train just now and sat somewhere right by the window. A bit rude? Perhaps. Healthy for my soul? Absolutely.)

The ride home I work and hope the Internet will cooperate with me. It’s a craps shoot every time.

But without fail riding the train feels like breathing a sigh of relief. The mountains stand ever majestic. The clouds toy with them. The lake glistens in the rising and setting of the sun. I listen to music and bask in the beauty that surrounds me. 

And I am healed. Every time.

I'm Taking Back My Life

There. I said it.

I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the way I handed over the reigns to my life. It was slow; it was subtle. But it happened. The last several months have provided a lot of reflection on my life, where it's going, what I'm doing, and where and who I want to be. It's been thrilling, heart-wrenching, beautiful, frustrating, exhausting, terrifying. I'm still figuring things out. But I realized something: somewhere in the past years, and I can't even name the number, I turned into something I didn't want to be. I lost my zest.

So for the past few weeks I've looked to get back my zest. It's meant that I've had to learn to let go of who I was so that I can become what I need to be. Here's what I've done.

1. I've slowed down.

I've stopped over-scheduling myself. I've taken a lot of down time and allowed myself to have time to simply just be. It's been fantastic.

2. I've simplified.

This goes alone with slowing down. I've removed anything superfluous from my life. That has meant removing any project, person, or commitment that has caused me unneeded stress. This has been the hardest part of taking back my life. Letting things and people go is never easy for me, but it has also been probably one of the most beneficial things I've done.

And that doesn't mean that I've nixed anything I don't like. I've only pared down to the essential things that I need.

3. I've prioritized.

I've taken months to reflect on what my priorities really are and whether or not my life is currently organized in such a way that supports those priorities. This has meant that I've had to change how I allot my time. Prioritizing has made it easier for me to simplify my life and to turn down attractive offers that I otherwise would have taken were it not for these priorities being firm in my mind.

4. I've returned to the things that I love.

A few weeks ago I realized that I've become kind of boring. I'd stopped doing many of the things that I loved and that gave me a zest for life. So I've returned to some of the things I love. I've been much more involved in music, trying to become somewhat proficient at the guitar. I've returned to reading for pleasure. I've kept the people around me that lift me up and make me feel loved. I've also pared down on the amount of media I consume daily. All of these things have made me much happier and I feel like I am becoming a more interesting person. I like myself more.

5. I've taken time to reflect.

I've taken much more time to myself in the past month to just think, reflect, and be by myself. It has given me the time I've needed to make peace with some things and to improve my relationship with myself and with God. It's been vital for me to just have time to be alone with my thoughts.

6. I've allowed myself time to not have a plan.

So often I've tried to force myself into a path and to have a specific plan. I had a pretty specific plan about a month ago. But as I've been transitioning into a new person, I've realized that, along with needing to let go with who I used to be, I also need to let go of what I used to want and what my plans used to be. Giving myself this freedom has helped open up the myriad options that are now available for me. I think this has been one of the best things that I could have done at this point in my life. If I can find what I really want at this point in my life, it will make things so much easier and less painful in the future.

I'm still figuring things out. I'm still working on being a proactive participant in my life rather than a passive observer. But I'm trying and I'm much happier than I have been in a while.

Belize So Far

First, you should know that my sunburn is amazingly better. Essential oils work miracles, people. Use them.

That said, last weekend we went up to Caye Caulker. It's an island off the coast of Belize. They have a series of keys (cayes) there. There were beaches and places to swim, but they weren't in the same place unfortunately. However, we didn't really have much beach time anyway. 

Saturday most of us went on a snorkeling tour. I felt like I was in Finding Nemo. It was fantastic. I saw manatees kiss and nuzzle (probably the most adorable thing I've ever seen); swam with schools of fish and was amazed at their ability to move as one entity; was about one foot away from five-foot-long sharks who were being fed by our guide (maybe I yelped when I got too close and it freaked me out a bit....); and became buddies with a sea turtle I lovingly named Marvin (seriously, he was adorable). Oh and we got to swim through the reef too. It made me really want to go to the Great Barrier Reef. It was an incredible experience.

The weekend before last, we were able to go to Guatemala and visit Tikal, one of the ancient Mayan cities (also where they filmed some of Star Wars, COOL). It was incredible. We also went zip-lining. Though I'd never been zip-lining before, I was pretty sure it was a more sketchy experience than what I would have experienced in the US.

Things back in San Ignacio have been going well. I've been teaching ESL to three women at one of the local nonprofit organizations we've been helping with. These women are so eager to learn and come ready and prepared for class. Were that all students had the same attitude, including me. I also helped to put on a community movie night last week. We partnered with another volunteer organization and the city center to put it on. We started too punctually, which was a bit frustrating for me after such careful planning and instructing everyone to start the movie a half hour late. Oh well, they learned for themselves and will start the next movie late. (Yes, everything here in Belize runs about a half hour to an hour late. It takes some adjusting.)

I think one of the things that has been the best for me here has been the opportunity to go out with Hermana Reyes, one of the missionaries here. It was fun to do missionary work in that way again. It was also crazy the contrast between being a missionary here and being a missionary in Portugal. People are actually nice to the missionaries here. Mind blowing. They smile and wave at the missionaries. They listen politely. They let you into their homes. The investigators they are working with are actually progressing and want to know if the gospel is true. It was so interesting to see. Hermana Reyes was also so lovely to work with. I wish that I could maintain my cool like she does. She was a great example for me.

In all Belize has proven to be both difficult and beneficial at once. I've made some really good friends here, but mostly it has shown me just how happy I am in my regular life doing my everyday thing. It's been a good time to take space and reflect on what is the most important for me. I feel like I have come to better understand where I want my life to go. I feel like I've also come closer to my Savior through the things I've gone through here. And I wouldn't trade that for the world.

No photos for now. They take WAY too long to upload here. The Internet is super spotty as it is. Check Facebook for some photos that have been posted. 

Back in the Belize Groove

Today was the first day of working here that I felt I actually helped people and that I, Laura, was needed.

Last week I discovered there was a need for English classes at a local nonprofit organization we do a lot with. So I did a lot of research for both ESL and literacy classes in the past few days. And today I taught my first English class.

And I loved it.

Like a lot.

I forgot how much I love teaching language. I feel like I'm completely in my element. I had three amazing students. All Spanish-speaking women who only know the most basic English. They were so eager to learn and ready for anything I would teach them. I had them write down five things they wanted to accomplish or learn in this class and they wrote things down like, "Learn the alphabet," "How to greet someone," and "Pay for things at the store."

Today we went over numbers (they rocked it), introductions and leave takings, and the alphabet. Yes, we straight-up sang the ABC song. They already knew the song, which was helpful. And we practiced spelling and numbers for a bit. They were so happy to be there and we set it up to get together twice a week. One of the women, who had been hesitant to commit to twice a week, said at the end of class that she was going to talk to her husband and tell him she needed to come twice a week. It touched my heart to see how earnest they were in learning. I felt like I had really helped them and that I was needed there. I'm so pumped for classes next week.

Then after a game of cribbage with our Scottish friend, Dave, I ran into the sister missionaries. They flagged me down and asked if I could go out teaching with them right then. (I had told them in previous weeks that I wanted to help them whenever they needed me.) I noticed that one of the hermanas was missing and put it together why they needed me. That sister had fallen down last week and chipped of two of her teeth, so she went to El Salvador to get her teeth fixed. (Apparently Belize is the worst country in Central America for medical care. Here's to hoping I stay healthy!)

So I got to go out with Hermana Reyes for a few hours. We went over to the sister city of Santa Elena to teach a family. We picked up their bikes partway there.

Let me tell you about these bikes: They were super old beach cruisers, heavy as all get out, and had super cracked seats. The sister who went to El Salvador is about 5' tall, so she had lowered the seat to fit her. So imagine me, a 5'7" girl sitting on a bike set for a 5' tall girl. Oh and I was in a skirt. I looked ridiculous. My knees were up in my elbows and my stomach and almost to my face. Not really, but it felt like it.

We rode our bikes up the pothole-ridden, no sidewalks containing, street to get to their house. Thankfully we walked the bikes up the hills.

And then we taught Elston and Diana. Diana is a member of the Church, but hasn't been going in a long time and her boyfriend/almost husband is investigating the Church. It was SOOO much fun to teach again and to get a feel for the culture down here. It really brought me back to Portugal. So many things were the same. The fact that people would go off on tangents for a long time and you had to pull them back, everything starts so late and takes so long. It was just delightful. I didn't feel the stress of time because I wasn't in charge! I just got to teach and listen and learn. It was wonderful.

I really felt like I helped people and made a difference. It was a very welcome change. Hopefully it continues.

Can You Belize It?

Hello everyone! It's my fifth day in Belize working with HELP International and I'm finally feeling settled into everything. The adjustment to living in Belize was no big deal. It's so much like living in Brazil with some things about living in Portugal. So nothing's really been new for me, except that there are refried beans at EVERY meal. So I'm eating refried beans for the first time in my life. They aren't as bad as I thought they would be. (That's right, guys, with all of my years of loving Mexican food, I have refused to try refried beans. They just look like fecal matter. Why would I want to ingest that?)

The thing that has been the biggest adjustment is living in a tiny apartment with eight people I just met. That was a bit of a struggle for me. There is never an alone moment. But I've adjusted to that and we're all getting to know each other and bond. Everyone is really great in the group. There are nine of us in total for this "wave" (month). Seven girls and two boys. (We all feel so bad for the boys, especially when we make them watch The Bachelorette with us. [And we have a TV here? What? I have never had a TV since moving away from home. It's weird.])

I am sleeping in the room that has the bathroom in it. The sink is outside of the toilet/bathtub area, so there are constantly people milling in and out of my "bedroom" area. It's kind of nice to have people around all the time, but to be able to do stuff on my own at the same time. It's not as restricting as having a companion was on my mission.

There are ants all over the place here. On the counters, in the bathtub, in my bed. Fortunately they're small and they're not all over. Just random ants here and there, but trying to completely eradicate them is futile.

On Saturday we went to Xunantunich, Mayan ruins that were HUGE! (Pictures are forthcoming. I forgot my camera, so I'm depending on others' photos of the trip.) It was really fun to climb up to the top of the structure (a Mayan temple type thing) and look out over the whole area. We're planning a trip to Tikal while we're here and also to ATM caves where there are more Mayan ruins. This is the place to see all things Mayan. So rad.

Yesterday we started our volunteer work with HELP International. We do a lot of work with a women's shelter here and I passed out flyers to promote their free computer classes and a clothing sale they're doing. We also looked into opening up a bike rental shop, so I went around to Department of Labor and the Town Council (Town Hall) to look into it. I was shocked at how nice everyone was and how quickly we were helped. That was not what I had expected. But, seriously, everyone is super nice here. They're happy to help you and answer any questions you have.

I expected to be in a small town in the middle of nowhere, which I am. But there's a surprising number of tourists that stay here in San Ignacio because of the architectural draws of the Mayan ruins. There are also a lot of ex patriots here. It's weird. But everyone speaks English, so I guess it wouldn't be a bad place for an American to relocate to.

We're in the middle of a tropical depression here, so it's been raining like crazy. It's been a welcome reprieve from the suffocating heat. My hair is, of course, crazy curly and I wear scarves in my hair almost every day to cover up the wreath of frizz I have framing my face.

That's all I've got for now. I'll send more updates and photos soon.

Adventures with Stella: I'm Back

I went on a ride today. The second of the year. (This should tell you just how infrequently I go on rides.) And for the first time in almost two years, I wasn't scared, apprehensive, nervous, etc. I didn't jump when a car would whiz past me. I didn't avoid going up a curb with a two-inch lip on it. I didn't stay in when I could have.

And I feel like I reclaimed a part of me that's been lost for the past two years. And it feels good.

Humanity

I've been thinking a lot lately about humanity. Not the people sense of the word, but what makes us humane. I wrote an article last week that touched on some of these ideas.

This semester has been hard. I don't think I have ever felt so drained in every way in my life. And I can't really point to one thing. It's just been overall draining. This is part of why I've been largely absent on my blog. I don't like writing things that bring people down. I like to lift others up with my writing.

In my grad program (mass communications) we talk A LOT about the effects of the media and violence in the media seems to inevitably come up. It's been a hot topic lately with all of the school shootings and the correlation they have with violent video games. More research needs to be done to show anything stronger than a correlation, but that is somewhat beside the point.

I also work in the newsroom on campus and the news is on constantly. I was in Seattle the day that Sandy Hook happened and I largely missed the news coverage of it. I saw all of the politicians talking about gun control for the months following though. So that combined with my studies in violence in the media has brought it to the forefront of my mind. And it has made me think somewhat negatively about the media and its effects.

These effects may be true, but it is my belief that we are stronger than any effect of the media. There is something inherently good in humanity. We want to help. We want to be good. We want to be better.

I was in the newsroom yesterday when the attacks at the Boston Marathon happened. I don't know if it's because I have a dear friend who was at the site just minutes before the attack or if it's because I've been studying so much about violence or because I was in the newsroom watching coverage for hours, but it has been sitting heavy in my heart. It seems that things just keep getting worse. But that is only when I focus on the attack.

I found an article just now that hit me at my center. People amaze me at the depth of their willingness to give. We aren't perfect. Sometimes we do ugly things. But on the whole we all try to be good and kind. We come together in tragedy rather than isolate ourselves. That means something to me.

So I may not be in Boston and I may not be a Bostonian, but my heart is in Boston right now, wishing there were something more I could do. And I know I'm not alone in this feeling.

The Best Show Yet

I should be doing reading for class, but it's really quiet in the Tanner building and there's that one guy on the phone who won't stop talking. It's just the right amount of noise to be irritatingly distracting. So I'll write instead.

Yesterday I spent most of the day at work. Fridays are really busy at the paper and I read through countless pages to get things ready. Typically I don't put headphones on while I work so people can get my attention if they need it. But it was an emotionally draining week and I just wanted to shut everyone out. I needed some alone time.

So I turned to Guster for my solitude. I have so many dear memories that come to mind when I listen to Guster. They have been my friends for over ten years now and I think of running around my neighborhood with my CD player, holding it so carefully so it wouldn't skip as I jogged around, listening to "Amsterdam" over and over and over.

I think of listening to "So Long" freshman year when I was frustrated with someone.

And whenever "Come Downstairs and Say Hello" comes on I have too many memories to choose from: taking an extra loop around the neighborhood with my sister so we could finish the song, singing along, having a bad day and being reminded to be strong because everything would be okay, and, my personal favorite, hearing the first few notes of the song at my first Guster show two years ago and screaming so loud the whole club could hear me (including the band), putting my arm around Berkeley and knowing that that was a perfect moment.

I've thought about that show a lot the past two years. I've been to a fair number of live shows and that has been by far the best experience I've had (Bruce was second on this list, which should tell you just how much I loved that Guster show). I went with my dearest friends and we were pretty close to the stage (except for the super tall woman in heels in front of us, rude). We all sang every song and danced and had the best time. I was transformed at that show. And you can ask my roommates, I didn't come down off of the Guster cloud for at least a week after that show.

When I listen to Guster, it isn't just about the music. It's about the people and the memories that tie us together. And listening to Guster yesterday reminded me mostly of that show and the joy I had in my heart in that moment. And that made me feel a little more healed and a lot better.

(For anyone looking for a song that will make you feel better every time, check out "Hang On." Guaranteed it will pick you up.) 

On being ready

Here's a link to another editorial I wrote for the Universe.

http://universe.byu.edu/beta/2013/01/11/on-being-ready/

A head full of thoughts

Sometimes you get sick. And sometimes you start another semester of school while you're sick. And sometimes that day is just fine and nothing bad happens and you have a lovely dinner with a dear friend and yet when you get home you find yourself with a head full of thoughts.

And sometimes when that happens you turn to your guitar, Bruce, and you play and sing it out and that helps. And sometimes you watch episodes of Grey's Anatomy because it is pure escapist fiction and you have a parasocial relationship with the characters and you just need that. And sometimes that head full of thoughts makes it hard to sleep even though you're tired and sick.

But at least it's nothing more than a head full of thoughts. And overall life is good. And maybe sometimes it's good to have a head full of thoughts because it means that you're on to something. And it may just take some time to clear those thoughts out. But I'll take it. I'll relish in forward moving.

Perfection

Today was a perfect day.

Really and truly it was. I can't think of anything I would have changed about today (almost, ahem the three hours it took me to make pizza ball monkey bread, but I'll forgive you because you're bread and you ended up being delicious).

Among other things I was able to help at a bridal shower and catch up with old friends, attend a baptism, pretend to study with a friend, grab dinner with another, go see a play, and see even more friends at a winter party.

I hadn't been to a baptism since my mission three years ago. This baptismal service, though held mostly in Spanish (which I was able to surprisingly understand fairly well), had such a sweet and powerful Spirit in the room. I am so happy for Gabriel and his decision to be baptized.

Tonight I went to a local community theater's production of "A Christmas Carol." A friend was a part of the production and he was gracious enough to offer me a ticket to his cast's opening night performance.

(Guys, if you do nothing else this holiday season, go see a version of "A Christmas Carol" near you. I'm sure you can find a production. Or rent one of the various movie versions. I had forgotten what a powerful story of change it is. Though Dickens wrote to his time, imploring those in his society to love a little more and judge a little less, we still need to hear and apply the same message.)

This story touched my heart as I looked introspectively to see what I needed to change to be more like the reformed Scrooge. It also reminded me of the reason we celebrate Christmas: Jesus Christ.

I can think of no better way I could have started off this month of service and love. We all have things in our lives that can turn us bitter if we let them. But we can also choose to look outward and love and serve and improve the lives of those around us.

A Life Snapshot

So it's the beginning of Thanksgiving break. But I'm still on campus. Surprise, surprise. I'm in a computer lab in the Brimhall. The building is pretty much empty. Actually, all of campus is pretty much empty. There were about five cars in the parking lot I usually park in. Typically there are about 150. And I even got to campus at 10 a.m.

Currently it's just me and another grad student in the lab. He's the year ahead of me and I don't remember his name. We aren't talking. Obviously.

I'm also trying to find good fonts for a bridal shower invitation that I probably should have finished designing/sent out in the mail last week. Oh well. Jillian will forgive me, right?

And I just wrote a letter of recommendation for one of my former employees for grad school. That was weird. I feel like I'm too young/underqualified to recommend someone for something that I'm currently trudging through.

Oh, and I'm wearing a plaid flannel shirt and no shoes while doing these things.

And listening to One Direction. Proudly. Happily. Teenage-girlishly.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

'Hold on to what you believe'

Here's a sneak-peek into an editorial I wrote for this week's paper. Special thanks to the friends who helped me with an article close to my heart.

http://universe.byu.edu/beta/index.php/2012/11/12/hold-on-to-what-you-believe-2/

Enjoy!

First Snow

Today I left my apartment dressed like the professional I am and ready to be a moderator at the Mormon Media Symposium. I had dutifully checked the weather to make sure that nothing catastrophic was coming my way during the day. I stepped outside to the damp air and the wet ground, careful to make sure I had brought my umbrella for the expected rain. I had even brought a change of shoes (tweed Toms) to switch out of my black heels after I was finished at the symposium. Prepared am I, no?

No.

My first couple of hours at the symposium were so pleasant and I even ducked into the Morris Center to see my former coworkers and current friends whom I haven't seen since quitting my job and going back to school. We had a lovely visit and I went on my way, aware the my shoes were getting a bit damp in the rain and slightly worried that I was going to end up with mud spots on my white pencil skirt, but confident that I was prepared-ish for the day.

And then the snow came. Turns out, today was not just a light rain that made me feel like I was in Portland for the day. No, no. It snowed all day. Not just snowed but snowed. Fortunately an acquaintance from my program gave me a ride from the Conference Center right to the door of the Brimhall. (This is normally a twenty minute walk.) By this time it was dumping snow and I was cursing the time I had put in to straightening my hair. Foolish move, Thomas.

I stayed in the Brimhall safe from the snow, watching it come peacefully down to the earth, covering the world in a blanket of white.

But then it was time to make the trek back up to my car. It was literally twenty minutes, uphill the entire way, in the snow. By the first five minutes my shoes were completely soaked through and my feet were sliding around in them, making it difficult to walk. But don't worry, it was already difficult to walk in my pencil skirt. But fortunately, I had an umbrella and a hood on my coat and my legs and feet started to go numb. And eventually I made it safely (and free of mud stains) to my car—which I then had to wipe three inches of heavy snow off of.

I was vastly unprepared for this day and a bit grumpy that it ruined my plans to see Emily in Midway. I did not feel like Lorelai Gilmore about the snow today—until I was coming home from a friend's house tonight, found that some random person took our covered parking spot (rude), and parked my car in the street by my house.

When I got to my doorstep, I took a minute to look around. Everything was quiet, as only it can be during a snowstorm. Every sound muffled by the celestial enveloping snow that made everything so lovely. All the world was white and perfect and beautiful.

And I was grateful to be a part of it. Welcome back winter. I forgot that I've missed you.

Stretched Too Thin?

So currently I'm sitting in the women's locker room at BYU, in my ballet leotard and pink tights, trying to seep out the last second of productivity before my ballet class.  And I just got back from the paper, where I had to wait around for the sports page to get done because a reporter got his article in HOURS too late. And before that I was studying for four hours, trying to get my seemingly endless reading done, as well as completing a midterm that could end up taking 7.5 pages of text, and later I'll continue working on a freelance job that has come when I have no time.

And I just had the realization that I forgot that I committed to helping a professor with his research. Blast.

It's going to be one of those weeks. Again. Again.

I keep hoping that next week won't be as busy as last week. Such pathetically false hope.

And I think it's so sad that I view the Texas Rangers losing in the Wild Card game as a blessing because I just don't have time to watch baseball right now. That is sad that this is the saddest realization of all.

But at least I like my job, my program, and my freelance job, right? Right?




And incidentally, I don't know how to punctuate anymore. Thanks a lot, AP and APA styles for ruining my perfect Chicago conventions.

Busy

Grad school is exhausting. And super busy. And I always have work to do. And I'm always sleep deprived.

But it sure is good to be in school again.

My First Day

Today was the first day of school. Technically I started my grad program today. But I actually started doing some reading on the I-15 where I was parked last week when a dump truck's tire blew and I was stranded for two hours. And I had my orientation for my program on Friday and met my other cohorters. And the only class I had today was beginning ballet.

Soooooo today wasn't really a big deal to me. But I was on campus all day between dropping in on a personal finance class with my girl Emily (which made me realize that I want to be good at personal finance, so I'll take that class later) and attempting to do some super boring reading. Then I had my first official day at my new job in the newsroom. They found out that I know how to use InDesign and now they want me to help out on the design as well (yay!!). It's kind of fun working in a newsroom. I had a blast writing captions today.

But despite not actually starting my program today in the traditional sense of taking classes that pertain to my program, it was weird to be a student again on campus.

I'm still not sure about this whole grad program thing. It's a bit overwhelming and nebulous to me. I'm sure it'll be great and I know it's where I need to be. But the unknown terrifies me.

Tomorrow: six hours of class. Wish me luck.