my past.

when i came home these christmas bears were on my bed. my sweet mother. i remember when my grandma gave me and kate the bears. i must have been 2 or 3 years old because the bears were HUGE. they were life size. and they were put away with the rest of the christmas things just the same. the following year, i remembered my christmas bear and found these. but they couldn't have been the same ones because the ones i remembered were bigger than me. my memory had tricked me and it wasn't until i saw these bears sitting just like that on my bed this year that i came to terms: the bears were always the same. i was someone new. being home makes me feel like a kid again. and running into high school teachers makes me feel like i'm in high school. and being with 4 older bossy siblings reminds me i am the baby. every time i look in the mirror and think of the responsibilities that await me in a few days i can't make sense of the two people inside me. i guess that's what this is all about.

i've been thinking about my past lately. and of course it's only natural since i've come home again. every time i think about going to the store or going to the movies i can almost always count on seeing someone i know. which is why my poor packing and flare of acne are bothering me so much. high school is such a blur for me lately. i feel like it is a million miles in my past and i can't remember anything about it. if i want to recall any important details such as who was friends with who or what someone's hair length or weight was--i have to think very very hard. and i usually just end up texting megan. and even though when it comes to high school, my memory has failed me, i still expect everyone i see to remember me and know me like we just graduated yesterday. i expect that i am rare for forgettting high school. but now self-corrected, i suspect it is as blurry for every one else as it is for me--if not more so.

i truly feel that i can come home. my mom and dad and family are fabulous and though i may be different, things are the same as they ever could be. within the walls of my parents' house, i am 16 again. but the more i stay away from st. george, the town grows foreign. while st. george will always be part of me, i am no longer part of st. george. business as usual carries on despite my permanent absence. i drive down its familiar streets and think "who are all these people?" yet, when i see people i know, i want to hide. there is no disappearing here, but i can't say i belong.

at harmons today, between the eggplant and the bok choy, i saw mr. green. my high school calculus teacher. and pre-calculus. hi mr. green, i said. hey amy! he said. he said it too fast that i thought he'd seen me before without me seeing him. we talked for a short time and it wasn't like old times. but for all the blurry images that make up my memory of high school, the good ones consist of mr. green. he just got me. i was 15 minutes late to his first period every day for 2 years. that was his only concern at parent teacher conferences. my other teachers equated my lines to smart aleck and a questioner of authority. but after discussing my tardiness, my mom told me he said "amy and i understand each other." those words meant so much to me. and still do. mr. green got me. he appreciated me. maybe he didn't really appreciate me. but i felt he did. and he didn't appeciate me because of my reputation or my lame high school accomplishments. he just appreciated me for what I was worth. something i had rarely felt from an adult beside my own parents. so when i saw mr. green i wanted to tell him everything about my experiences. about college and learning and life after high school. and it's not like we ever even had a one-on-one conversation or talked about anything personal. i was just glad to see him. and wanted to be appreciated by him again. i came home and wouldn't let my mom or melissa talk about anything else for the next half hour. even though there wasn't much to say, i just wanted to remember.

so i've seen old friends at tj maxx or coming out of valkyrie and they ask the small talk questions. my holiday this year has had a special question, though. after some discussion, my friend asks me questions pertaining to the relationship i've maintained with my very closest and dearest and longest friend of nearly 7 years: megan. do megan and i still talk. or are we still close. did i hear about the... and oh you guys still keep in touch. what in the world? i can't imagine my life without megan. and it baffles me that my high school classmates would think otherwise. but maybe i am just being blind. i still consider megan as dear and close friend and assume she considers me the same, but what can people expect? with us living 264 miles apart instead of attached at the hip as we formerly were. so i am not angry at my old acquaintances. i suppose i have to chalk it up to my own self-doubt. but all this is leading to BIG news.

megan is engaged!

yes. her ring is a vision and her inner-glow is an even lovelier one. and all those people who i proceed to tell that yes, we are still close and she is still my one friend, proceed to ask: and how do you feel about it? well. from such thoughtful and nosy people I expect such a question. the fact is i couldn't be happier for megan. congratulations to him, he couldn't wed better. i'd trust her to choose my husband so i trust her just fine to choose hers. truthfully, i've known for months that she would be engaged soon but it didn't hit me until i heard the news. i have to examine my life when a life so dear to me is vastly changing. i love her and i am blissful for her.


send a note.

I don't think anything makes me happier than sending a heartfelt note. I think there is too little expression of how people really feel. if you think someone is fabulous, you should tell them.

"Send that note to the friend you’ve been neglecting; say “I love you” more; always express your thanks. Never let a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved. Friends move away, children grow up, loved ones pass on. It’s so easy to take others for granted, until that day when they’re gone from our lives and we are left with feelings of “what if” and “if only.” Said author Harriet Beecher Stowe, 'The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.'" (Thomas S. Monson, Oct. 2008)


yes, my blog was infiltrated. by my cute roommie Ariel when we switched macbooks for a moment. she's a doll. I really love all my roommates. more to come on each of them (I'm a little behind on catching you all up).

finals week has been breezy. last week was h-e-double-hockey-sticks. and like I said, this week has been a real piece of cake. 7 days ago, when Thursday was over, I hit the bottom. extremely relieved, I started vegging. on Saturday I went out of my apartment once to take the trash out. I have such potential to be a total loser.

but this week, finals week, has been busy and all I have yet to do is turn in my creative writing portfolio. big whoop. that class turned out to be a real dud. as you've noticed the past 4 months, my writing skills have taken a downturn. I don't know if it's thanks to that class, but it definitely didn't help. one important thing I gained from the class was a knowledge of poetry. I don't know if you'd call it knowledge, I don't know very many details. but I really enjoyed reading it, discovering it. I had never read poetry before, nor written it. and I found it a new way to express myself--a different avenue than the personal essay which I drive frequently.

my international development class was interesting. while enduring the intro course, I was miserable. I had decidedly changed my mind about minoring in it. but now, at the end of the course, I really really enjoyed it. my professor, though sometimes lacking in organization or powerpoint skills, was inspiring. she has lived her whole life helping people. I want to do that. about a month ago, I withdrew my application to do a field study in India (before the mess all happened). I'm still going to India, just not to do a field study. I realized I am not a seasoned enough learner/journalist/student/researcher to invest myself into a research topic for a year. maybe later though. so I'm still unsure about the development minor. I'll probably do it. when I go to India it will give me about half the credits I need to get the minor. so...I'll probably do it.

LDS marriage & family turned out to be one of the best religion classes I've ever taken. I learned a lot and probably failed the final. nothing ever grew. twice. Doctrine & Covenants was good. not everything I look for in a religion class, but you live you learn. music 101, glad to have taken it. sad I didn't need it to graduate. why do I do that to myself?

next semester is going to be a whirlwind. working a full 20 hours a week in addition to some of the hardest classes in my major, I'm going to be really busy. I'm scared, but excited. I'm on the verge of wishing I could just start next week. I can already tell the holidays are going to turn me into the anti-student. vegging, shopping, eating, reading for pleasure. it might be better for me to just keep going while I've got some momentum.

all in all, I am so glad to be here. there are bathrooms in every building--that is such a blessing. they are all really nice too. I just love being here. I can't look at my career at BYU objectively. I never thought I would go to college here until I came here. and it is the best place I could possibly be. I absolutely love it.

and. I've decided the weather isn't going to get me down in 2009. truly. it's time I gave winter a chance. so I'm going to purchase boots. and then I'm going to add a coat.

view from my kitchen window the size of the wall.



This is the Roommate. I love studying with Amy. I love Amers.



both glad and sad to be done with 92 students x 13 weeks of quizzes = 1,196 half sheets of paper. not including 3-page research papers, 2-page citizenship projects, 3 movie worksheets, and 2 essay midterms. glad to have them off of my shelves. final grades are in. you must appeal to higher authority now. thank you very much.

and yes, though final grades are in, final exams have begun. i really appreciate my finals this semester--mostly projects, presentations, and papers. real learning. real synthesis. i am here to be stretched, to be pulled like saltwater taffy. to be worn down until I'm built up. bring it.

little late gift guide.

I really love online shopping. like. a lot. here are a few things I've found. my one and only gift guide that may or may not be useful.

kate spade planner - for the super hip (non-academic-year) organizer in your life.

tiny mammoth - for someone who likes small things and challenges.

really good cd - for the sunday listener.

alliterative alphabet necklace - for a classy-vintage dresser.

darling elephant japanese fabric - for the sister whose husband is getting her a sewing machine.

a dainty knot ring -for dainty fingers.

a knot ring with a little more flare - for more daring dainty fingers.

sun in a jar - these are everywhere this year. I want one. to cure my SAD. (if you're serious about
this thing, find it cheaper, perhaps here).

one of the best (and longest) Christmas albums - for a Christmas-all-year-round listener.

monogram (or not) pillowcases - for a black+whiter.

a good read - for an international intellectual.

hurry. Christmas is just around the corner.


on my youth.

I've been thinking about my age. I'm solidly 19. it seems strange to be the age you are for only one year. I can never get used to the age I'm in before it grows by a digit.

being born in August, my parents had a choice to make--I could be young or I could be old. (I know you know that your age is your age. and when people say "are you young for your age?" you can't really question their intelligence because you've asked the same question). they had to choose when to put me in school. my parents chose to enroll me in kindergarten when I was 4. so I have always been young for my age.

all throughout high school I was one of the last to drive, to date, to turn 18 and so forth. last year I was the youngest of the young. not much has changed this year either. since the nature of BYU is that there are no males between the ages of 19 and 20, if you are a 19-year-old female, the males you associate with are 21 or older. a 19 year old female is still young.

my entire life, though, I've been the young one--even among my own peers. but I am now entering the realm of adulthood where age is age according to your age, not according to the academic calendar. the lines are blurred and from now on I'll just be my age. I'll just be old.

when you're a TA, everyone just assumes you're old. this is partly due to the nature of being a student of a TA--he or she an authority figure, and therefore, older. the other reason is that as a terrified TA, you HAVE to assume everyone you are responsible for, is a freshman. as the youngest TA, I would not have made it if I hadn't have faked it. but in the end, most of my students who I forced myself to assume were little babes, are much older and more seasoned than I am.

let me reiterate--I will never be young again. I've lived my youth. and now I'm old.

my roommates and I have an ongoing debate about whether the most attractive males are 'men' or 'boys.' I say boys. I don't know how you can look at Zac's face and see anything but handsome. but according to L, he's a boy. same with Nick, Kevin, and Joe. there's no reasoning with her. except to say, yes. maybe they are boyish. but as long as I'm with a boyish looking man, I will be young. my obsession with Disney Channel stars then, is justified.

I'm still young.




keep calm.

i thought this was pretty funny.


last lab today.

i taught my last lab for the semester. these students will always be my first. i'm sentimental. and looking forward to new chapters next semester.



yes. the Joe Bro's were fabulous. Meg and I screamed and are now having severe separation anxiety from the three boys wonder.

I love this article.


oh how i love elder wirthlin.

"within the ranks of the general authorities, there is no man more beloved than Joseph Bitner Wirthlin. we praise him for living the sermons that he preaches." - elder Jeffrey R. Holland.

love this article on Elder Wirthlin's life.

Elder Wirthlin: "But the dial on the wheel of sorrow eventually points to each of us. At one time or another, everyone must experience sorrow. No one is exempt...Learning to endure times of desappointment, suffering, and sorrow is part of our on-the-job training. These experiences, while often difficult to bear at the time, are precisely the kinds of experiences that stretch our understanding, build our chracter, and increase our compassion for others.

"The next time you are tempted to groan, you might try to laugh instead. It will extend your life and make the lives of all those around you more enjoyable."

by a son to his mother:

"I don't remember much about her views of voting nor her social prestige; and what her ideas on child training, diet, and eugenics were, I cannot recall. The main thing that sifts back to me now through the thick undergrowth of years is that she loved me. She liked to lie on the grass with me and tell stories, or to run and hide with us children. She was always hugging me. And I liked it. She had a sunny face. To me it was like God, and all the beatitudes saints tell of Him. And Sing! Of all the sensations pleasurable to my life nothing can compare with the rapture of crawling up into her lap and going to sleep while she swung to and fro in her rocking chair and sang. Thinking of this, I wonder if the woman of today, with all her tremendous notions and plans, realizes what an almighty factor she is in shaping of her child for weal or woe. I wonder if she realizes how much sheer love and attention count for in a child's life."