first day of school.

this vacant bathroom had pink tile. I loved it. 

today was a great day to say the least.  everyone was pleasant and jittered with a first-day-of-school skip in their step. the unaltering blue sky matched the mood of all who marched along BYU's campus today.  I was utterly content. 

really. school was so fun. I loved it.  I love BYU like I never thought I would. I love it the way people I hate for loving it love it.  I love it annoyingly and oppressively. I love it the way people (I) love America.  it's wrong. I know. it is. but I love its existence and reasons for existence and the people who run it and whose idea it was to start it.  mostly though, I love it here. 

I saw a million new faces. on the first day of 9th grade M.R. put a note in my locker; the first line reading "lookin' good this year." the poor kid.  all that filled my head this morning as I passed unfamiliar features but that old familiar BYU countenance was--lookin' good this year.

I was so happy to be reunited with sister Kate. so happy she was not somewhere in the southern United States. I was reunited with old friends. and some unexpected ones too. encouraging words from fellow-TAs were welcomed and phone numbers of old-ward members were exchanged.  

I ran into the grad student from Russia who conducted my orchestra class 1 year ago, last fall.  I can hardly believe he remembered/recognized me. he was so so so so kind.  he acted like we were old friends.  in class, in front of 150 undergrads, he was awkward and timid.  but now, he made me feel like I belonged in the Fine Arts Center--where I most certainly do not belong. his next move, however, I never saw coming.  he encouraged me to audition for the philharmonic symphony! I thought he was just being nice, but he was dead serious.  so so nice. uncomfortable with such an idea, I squirmed physically and verbally. he turned the table back on him and invited me to an upcoming showcase he would be conducting.  he made me feel my existence was worth something and I jotted down the date of his concert in my planner. 

12 noon - Religion C 324 - LDS marriage + family.  

this class is being taught by a really excellent professor and a pretty big BMOC. he's funny and smart and I'm looking forward to a semester of it. as a disclaimer he added, and I will too, that this is no marriage prep course. 

1:35 pm - English 218R  - creative writing. 

covering poetry, short fiction, and creative nonfiction, this class is exactly what I'm looking for: a workshop to improve my writing skills and explore my options as a writer slash future journalist amid rule-book limitations of news writing.  admittedly, I'm looking for validation. the grad-student teaching the class prompted us to write for a few minutes with a question too cliche for my taste: "what is love?" we first wrote abstract answers like, "love is a beautiful emotion."  after which, he demanded concrete writing e.g. "love is the yarn wrapped carefully around wire hangers by my grandmother who would give them to us for Christmas because that's all she could give." describing love as something concrete and image-filled.  and he recited this nearly perfect poem. I am really excited for this class--mostly because the words creative and nonfiction are involved. 

4:00 pm - International + Area Studies  - introduction to international development. 

full of 60 very diverse (in major) students, I am taking this class by way of recommendation from an old friend who is now in Canada. I am taking this class because I care and want to care more about the developing world around me.  and if I can write about anything news-worthy in a journal or magazine, I would love to inform the domestic public about  developing both underdeveloped countries abroad and underdeveloped regions here at home.  this class is merely the first step on an uncertain but intriguing path.  

this, my first day of my second year of college, was excellent. I was able to help some freshman in the bookstore and run into some underclassmen from high school and spout off my intertwining social dramas in the presence of others that made me feel the words: I'm a pro.