You Are the Best One of the Best Ones

I've been hearing, "Finally!" quite a bit the past couple days. Yeah, I kind of feel that way too. I was thrown for a bit of a loop last weekend, but "finally" Cory told me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. Now you all know, and we can celebrate. The only reason we say "finally" is because we've been dating non-exclusively or unofficially for the past 2 months or so.

So for those of you who don't know... here's the story:

We met at work back in March. He was dating Kim (whom I adore and speak to often... but it's not weird at all, I promise). I was still dealing with the Eddie break-up fiasco. However, because we worked together, we talked a lot. I thought he was attractive, but he was dating Kim and I was dealing with Eddie. During spring term I heard rumor that Kim and Cory broke up, and while I felt bad for him, I was also a little happy. Just a little bit. You know how we girls can be. But then I left work for the summer for EFY and we didn't see each other for... the whole summer.

So there I was one day, manning the crosswalk to get to the dorms, preventing EFY kids from leaving campus, when there he was. Cory. He was going to class and I was just standing around bullying EFY kids. He was about 15 minutes early to class and stopped to chat. Boy did that brighten my day (uh... this was about when the pneumonia was setting in). Then he had to leave, as to not be late for anatomy.

I didn't see Cory for a couple more weeks. Not until Education week when I went back to work at my normal campus job. And there he was... all week. Better yet, I was promoted and now we had the same title. So I got to see him even more. I think our first unofficial date was me asking him out to ice cream one of the Ed Week nights. I make no promises that this is true though. But I think it is. Then again the next week after we both auditioned for choirs. Then every week (not always ice cream) since then, sometimes 2 or 3 times a week, except for the one week when he went home.

There were a few weeks where I was really frustrated because, though we were going out, nothing was happening. But then I realized if I wanted something to happen, I had to make it happen. Proactivity. It's not a real word, but it's a good thing. So, here we are. I have a boyfriend. After 10 months of being single, I have a boyfriend. And a wonderful one at that! Of his own free will too!

My favorite thing: he doesn't think I'm completely crazy. And if secretly he does, he likes it.

He's very patient with me. Very understanding on my hard days. Especially since, right when I'm starting to feel healthy, some crazy thing comes up to knock me down. He helps me with my homework instead of trying to distract me from it (like I have done intentionally to him... and he's okay with that). I feel completely secure with him. We want the same things. He's taller than me (added bonus for those who know)! He makes me want to be better without me feeling bad about myself. He is genuine and genuinely good. And he makes me laugh so hard sometimes, and doesn't mind when it's at him. My parents like him (which is a real treat)! I'm excited to see him every day, even when it's for 5 minutes, which is never enough. He makes me happier than I've ever been with a guy. Best bonus of all: he's not afraid to be seen with me.

What a good man, right? Definitely the best one of the best ones.

Most recent blog about a boy complete.

This is My Game Face

Okay, so maybe it's not quite like this. I'm not black. I don't have a mustache. I don't have a beard. I have hair. And my nose isn't that wide. But it's close. Squinty eyes. Kind of snarly. Except the right side of my lip is more lateral than vertical. So this is my game face. For now. Hopefully not for long.

Let me tell you why my face is the way it is. I just found out today! After a week of severe eye pain and sensitivity, I got in to see my optometrist. Sure, there's a long waiting time, but the man is good at what he does. So there I was. They take all the standard exams prior to actually seeing the doctor, including the bane of my existence; the eye pressure test. You know the one. You stick your chin on the chin strap. Brace yourself. They tell you to open your eyes as wide as you can. You start to shake in anticipation. They tell you to look at the blinking green dot in front of you. Still shaking. You blink a couple of times and without warning BAM! You pull back from the shock of having air shot into your eye. It might be just as bad as actually being shot in the eye. Maybe.

After this seemingly endless corporeal punishment, I finally see the doctor. Within a few minutes of examination he tells me, "you have one very unhappy eye." What does that mean? But I agree. Because, well, yeah, it hurts like heck. So then he tells me I have an ulcer. "A what?" That's right. An ulcer. I didn't even know you could get those in your eye. But no wonder it hurts so bad. So we figure out that it was probably bacteria that traveled up through my blood stream and infested, eating away at my eye. Sound gross? Well, that's because it is. At least we can treat it.

So now I'm on a daily regimen of antibiotics in eye-drop form. I use them every 2 hours. And I have some gel that I use 4 times a day... I don't know what it's for, but who am I to argue? AND I get to keep my eyes dilated for the next 5 days. Yep, I've got the drops for that too. Meaning it's sunglasses for me... a lot. Which is funny because I can't wear my contacts and I can't wear my glasses and my sunglasses. So I'm blind in the dark. People saying hello to me at school must feel shafted because I recognize the voice and the direction it's coming from, but I have no idea where they are. So instead of flailing around trying to find them, I say hi, no attempt at eye contact, and walk on.

Fortunately I'm finished with all but one my midterms (anatomy included) and one quiz.

And if you see me on campus, or anywhere else, and my face looks a little like the guy above, don't worry. I still love you. I just can't see you and my eye hurts.

Under the Willow I Breathe A Prayer

We just finished the BYU Homecoming Spectacular. It was so much fun. Absolutely fantastic. We sing this beautiful piece that is by far my favorite. I don't feel like I've sung a song so beautiful in a long time. I think much of that has to do with the message and the spirit.

Under the willow she's laid with care
Sang a lone mother while weeping,
Under the willow with golden hair,
My little one's quietly sleeping.

Fair, fair, and golden hair
Sang a long mother while weeping.
Fair, fair, and golden hair,
Under the willow she's sleeping.

Under the willow no song is heard
Near where my darling lies dreaming;
Naught but the voice of some far off bird
Where life and its pleasures are beaming.

Under the willow I breathe a prayer
Longing to linger forever
Near to my angel with golden hair,
In lands where there's sorrowing never.


It seems like each performance Sister Applone gives us something to think about. This time she asked us to think about where the mother in this song turns from grieving to hope, then what this mother might be praying for.

One girl made the comment that the only thing this mother might have left in her is this prayer. Her grief is so overwhelming that she can only breathe this prayer, knowing that the Lord will still hear it from her heart.

I can't imagine the pain of losing a child. But I imagine this mother, stricken with grief, not praying for her child. No. I think this mother has more faith than to pray for the welfare of her daughter's soul. I imagine her praying for the strength to continue. Not to move on necessarily. But to have the courage to leave her child's side, to continue in her life, and to live in such a way as to be worthy to return to her precious, golden-haired daughter.

My thoughts then turn to my relationship with my Father. I wonder if I have that same determination to return to Him. I wonder if I longed to linger forever with him. When I sing this song with the choir, I don't imagine myself as a grieving mother. I picture myself with my Father. What it might feel like if I return on Judgment Day unable to live with him. Longing to linger with him. Deep in my heart I breathe a prayer for that same strength, courage, and determination I will need in this life to return to him so I don't have to experience facing him knowing I can't stay. I am far from perfect. I know where I need to be and I want to be there. I'm working for it. Hopefully, for now, it is enough.

Oh yes, L. Tom Perry was at the Spectacular front and center tonight. That was pretty amazing.

Cause You Might Get Run Over or You Might Get Shot

Being cussed out by strangers at 1 o'clock in the morning is one of my favorite things.

Here's how this all went down:

So there I was (I'm told this is a captivating beginning to a story), sleeping. During the night I often times open or close my window right next to my bed depending on how hot or cold I get. What you should know is that my bedroom, along with 8 others, is directly above our underground parking area. As you should know, underground parking is designed so that everyone can hear each sound produced within the parking area, in case of emergencies... So from my bedroom, you can hear each car door, engine, footstep, conversation, or scream, that originates from said parking area.



Last night was no different, except the sound I woke up to was not exactly one I've ever heard at this hour. Oh yes. I woke up to the sound of someone skate/long boarding down the ramp of our underground parking. The fact that it woke me up was frustrating enough, but, trying to improve my patience, I resisted the urge to drop heavy objects out my window in hopes of smashing them, thus stopping this obnoxious noise and allowing me to fall back asleep quite satisfied. I hoped they would stop. Soon. But no. The noise persisted. That whir of small wheels rolling, the crack of the board flipping over, this mysterious person stomping away to catch themselves with the wheels still rolling behind them. I began to lose my patience after attempting to stop, or mute the noise by closing my window. Still, nothing. And I was hot. So I began softly yelling out my window asking this person to stop, go home. I didn't want to wake my roommates, but I got a little louder with each cry. He was either ignoring me, or really didn't hear me. I doubt he didn't hear me.

I was happy and angry when I heard Lauren's door open. She heard it too. This night boarder had roused more than one innocent person from the sweet bliss that is sleep. This just shall not do. It's one thing if I'm the only person affected, but bring my friends into this and it's business time! Someone is going down! Lauren and I were equally angered and charged our way outside for a confrontation. Apparently someone got to them first. More victims! But I didn't realize this initially. So when I thought he was returning to the top of the ramp to make another run, I asked if he realized that people lived here. Yes, perhaps there was a hint of sarcasm and frustration in my voice. Or a lot. But nonetheless, he responded with equal sarcasm and resentment. "Oh, where all the doors and windows are?" This was going to go well. I reply, "Yeah, that's what those are for." And to to try to tone it down since I could sense it would only get worse down this path, "Do you realize what time it is?" That didn't help at all. "You don't have to be a b**** about it!" Huh! A complete stranger, whom I've only had one brief exchange with, as already presumed to judge me. Ah, the kindness of strangers. I snapped. "Hey, I'm only giving you the same consideration you decided to give me." And, my favorite response from this gentleman... "You need to go get f*******!" Wow. Didn't really expect that. Followed by a few "F-you's."

Fortunately our neighbors, whom up to this point I never had a real respect for, chimed in ensuring the guy knew he was skating in our parking area. They actually defended us. And as a reward, this sk8erboi chucked a can at their cars, screaming profanities, as he sped away.

I hope you night was less eventful.

A Welcome Arrow Through the Heart

Life truly has its ups and downs. Especially in the life of a single college student. I can't pretend that anyone outside of this category has things figured out or easier than those of us within. Nonetheless, life is full of little surprises. This week: boys and cars.

I couldn't be happier with my boy situation right now. Slow and steady is working out perfectly. Everything seems to be new and exciting, even though I've been in this stage with many other boys. It's still new and exciting each time. The difference is that each new boy gets better and better than the last. I don't sit around wondering if there's someone better than this one. That's dangerous. Just enjoy the moment. I must admit there have been boys I've dated where I've absolutely known for certain that there were plenty of boys out there much better than the current one. Why I didn't leave the relationship right there and then is something requiring a lot more background information that we're not getting into here. I am enjoying the moments. Especially those little moments of progression or reassurance that they do, in fact, have an interest in pursuing you further. They ask those certain searching questions with genuine interest. Each time you accidentally touch there's a spark. Then there's that look they give you. Not the usual, "you're crazy" look I get from most men. No. It's the look of "you're a little crazy, but I find it endearing." And of course, there are those moments when you both have to laugh, loudly at one another and at yourself for the silly things you do and say, but it's a laugh of joy instead of embarrassment. These are the moments we hope for.

The car situation, on the other hand, is a little less pleasant. This past weekend my "Check Engine" light starting flashing its ugly little face. I wouldn't have been very concerned with it except for the engine overheating and needing to pass an emissions test to register my car for the next year. So I took it in hoping it would be a simple repair. Of course not. Fortunately I had money enough to pay for this semester's rent saved up. Unfortunately a good month and a half of rent is now in my car. Again, fortunately I have a job. The wonderful event that came from all of this is that once the repairs were finished, my car passed the emissions test with flying colors. FLYING! Why would I be so excited about how well it did? Well, last year we drove around like mad trying to find a way/person/place/thing that could rig things so my car would pass. Not an easy task. We were frantic. It's a blessing to not need to think or worry about that for another couple years. Or until my car dies completely. Hopefully it will be longer than just another couple years. So I won't be able to fly to Wichita with my Mom this Thanksgiving, but my car runs well, I'll get better gas mileage, and I'll be able to drive my car because it will be registered.


Blessings, blessings, blessings. Keep 'em comin'.

And did I mention that I finally started going back to the gym? Up until recently my lungs just haven't been up to it. I wasn't able to laugh without coughing something fierce. While they're not yet 100%, I can't wait any longer. The weight I lost is starting to creep its way back and I will not have it. Plus, I like going to the gym. And now my newest roommate is coming with me. I like her a lot. We get along quite nicely. The gym + new roommate = bliss. Happy Kayla. :)

Your Words in My Memory Are Like Music to Me

The theme for Women's Chorus this year is: "He lives! All glory to His name!" So during our retreat last week, Sister Applonie asked us to think about what "His glory" was and what it mean to give glory. Of course, being the good student I am, I tried to come up with some semblance of a decent response. I considered her questions. Deeply. Then, during my scripture study, it popped up again. In Alma 36, Alma is talking to his son, Helaman, about his conversion. Toward the end Alma speaks about his missionary efforts and the support the Lord has given him in his trials and says, "Yeah, and I do put my trust in him, and he will still deliver me. And I know that he will raise me up at the last day, to dwell with him in glory; yea, and I will praise him forever..."

Again, I thought about this idea of glory and giving glory. Glory is being raised up at the last day. We are his glory. So how do we give glory? Alma recognized the hand of the Lord in all things. In his delivery from the depths of sin. In his delivery from trials. He put his trust fully in the Lord. He knew the Lord and the promises he was given. My favorite, and what I choose to focus on here, if where he says he will praise him forever. That's it. It starts with the recognition and trust, but really, what good is that if you're not showing your gratitude for these things? Like when you are given something from a close friend and, while realizing and appreciating all the effort put into it, you say nothing and never use it. If we truly understand, or are trying to understand what we have been given, we can show our gratitude and glorify God by using what he has given us.

Apparently I need to be working on this more, otherwise it wouldn't be popping up as much, right? I try. I try really hard. But it is so easy to get caught up in your own world. Then again, I wouldn't have a world if not for the gifts of my Heavenly Father. So the goal is to make our worlds one. To have gifts bestowed upon me that will help me show greater and greater glory as I learn to use them. That's really what they're there for, aren't they? It's time for me to try harder. Be a little less selfish every day. Reach outside my comfort zone and become an influence for good. Time to trust fully in the Lord and give "all glory to His name." Not mine.

That is what I've been thinking about in my soapbox as of late.

It's Easy to be Surprised With Both Your Eyes Sewn Closed

What an exciting weekend it has been indeed.

First of all, I am extremely behind in my homework because of weekend adventures, work, and just being overwhelmed by the amount of homework and refusing to scratch the surface of it. I should be more concerned, but somehow, I am not. Perhaps tonight or tomorrow I will work feverishly to catch up again. Okay, let's face it. That's exactly what will happen. I have tests each week in most of my classes so I can't get behind. It's probably a good thing. The other activities I have participated during the course of the week instead of keeping up on my homework have been well worth it. Games, movies, and lunches with friends, World of Dance, and work. Yes, well worth it indeed.

Back to the adventures.

The Women's Chorus retreat on Friday was wonderful! I realized while there, (or perhaps it was revelation) why I love to sing. It could be applied to music in general too, I suppose. Music and singing just make me happy. They make me feel so much closer to my Father in Heaven and my Savior. I feel like I am using the talents given me that I have worked so hard to improve for a good purpose. Like when someone gives you a really practical gift, or even something not so practical that you use all the time. It almost forces you to think of them often, and you feel gratitude for that gift. When we have gratitude, even if we don't express it that often, we are blessed and feel that closeness. I feel so much gratitude to Sister Applonie for taking such a risk on me. Okay, I know it wasn't really that much of a risk, but she didn't know that during my audition with pneumonia, which was probably one of the worst auditions I've ever participated in. I'm sure my acceptance must have been divinely inspired.

I loved the retreat because I got to know so many of the girls in my section. We sang our numbers all the way through and could actually hear them. I felt the spirit there. Such peace. Such joy. Such love. It was wonderful.

Saturday morning I ended up working the first production of the day. There were 3 of us. Me and my two ushers. The production was down in the Nelke theater. It was Taming of the Shrew, which, let's just say I'm grateful Saturday was the last day of its run. Normally, just as the performance is about to begin, I send one of my ushers backstage to say the prayer and I take their place. Today, right after sending my usher backstage, one of our patrons needed assistance finding ADA seating. So I close the slower door and pull that usher to mine. No one really ever sees the other door anyway, which is why it's slow. I come back to the door, the production is starting late (15 minutes late, which is extremely rare), and while talking to my usher I notice a woman on the floor. She's just lying there. Not one movement. I think perhaps a student who found a comfy spot in the middle of the floor, but perhaps not. So I go check on her. Lo and behold, she had passed out. She was not okay. Well, BYU EMTs were called and eventually Provo EMTs were called. Fortunately the woman was well enough for her to be released to her husband. They all cleared out just in time for the production to end and we did not have to hold all the patrons in the theater. That would have been fun. I'm just happy this woman was okay and our patrons were able to leave without any problems. And by the way, the ushers working with me that day reacted beautifully.

After work my friend, Cory, and I went up to Park City to hang out with my family who came into town. The drive through Provo Canyon was beautiful! We had intended to go down the Alpine Slide, but when we got there, it was closed. What a disappointment. All the signs said they didn't close until 9 (maybe it was 10), but we were there by 7. I guess it was too late in the season. Cory had never been, so I was disappointed for both of us. So I think we'll have to go up one of these weekends so we can enjoy riding it rather than just staring at it longingly. To soothe our weary souls, we ended up at the Rocky Mountain Chocolate Factory. That'll do. For now.

Later, we headed up to the cabin and just sat around talking. Well, aside from our game of Scrabble, which I won, by a lot. It was really nice to sit and talk to my family. They loved Cory, which doesn't always happen. In fact, we recounted many experiences of my family meeting my friends. Then conversation turned to the guys I've dated. . . and their height. There was lots of laughter with that one. Eventually Cory had to leave and we went to bed. Morning came and we broke camp. It was a lovely weekend.

What we have learned is that we need to check hours of operation before getting too excited about going down the Alpine Slide. We will go again soon.



This is a picture of what it would have looked like had we actually been able to go down the slide. Except I would have had Chloe instead of Cailee, and Cory would have been there. This was last year. Cailee cried a lot before she was laughing. That was the best!