Let Me Fall

One of my most favorite things to do during the fall, (or any other time) is to crunch the leaves. It has to do with that weird sound satisfaction thing, like the sound of heels on a cobblestone street. When I see a bunch of dried, multicolored leaves piled up on the grass, screaming JUMP ON ME, I HAVE to run through them and obliterate them beneath my flip flops. This is why I hate the BYU grounds keeping crew . . . well, that and the fact that they put up signs on the grass saying 'I'm trying hard to grow, please don't step on me!' That's just asking for students to walk all over it! But, anyway, the grounds crew cleans up all the stinking leaves, leaving the ground looking like the effects of fall has not yet touched it. They are taking one of the few joys I have during fall season! LET ME WALK ON THE LEAVES DANG IT!

A Few Things I Found Today . . .

1. An actual picture of Orlando Bloom
2. An earring
3. My phone screen protectors
4. All my old year books, elementary included
5. My school dance pictures
6. My 2nd grade yearbook picture on which I had inscribed 'I am special'
7. Derek Siddoway's 3rd grade photo with devil horns and a moustache
8. A thousand pictures of Stephen and I, awkward ones included
9. A purse
10. A pink sparkly key chain with the words HA HA I DON'T GET IT
11. Drill team officer folder
12. A belt
13. A sock
14. Last year's text books

Oh Crap.

Procrastination sucks. Do you want to know why? I found out today that the Dance Education major auditions are 2 1/2 weeks away. YIKES! When I found that out, I about tee-teed in my pants, (as my niece and nephew would say). I'm still flexible . . . well good enough anyway. I mean, it hurts like crud when I stretch out, and it didn't when I was in shape. Anyway, the flexibility is not something I'm worried about. It's the technique. Turns are a bugger when you haven't practiced them. On top of that, BYU is a very competitive place, especially in dance, so I'm scared out of my mind to go up against these amazing dancers who have more training that I ever had, and who have not let their technique go down the toilet.
After I got over the initial shock this morning, I calmed down significantly. I thought back on why I wanted to even audition in the first place. Teaching dance was the only job that I ever loved and it's the only thing I can imagine myself doing in the future, other than being a mommy of course. Auditioning for this major just feels . . . right. It feels like it's the missing puzzle piece to my life. I've been fitting pieces together without looking at the box, and with this piece I will be able to see the big picture. So does that mean that this is where I am supposed to be? Is this what Heavenly Father wants me to do with my time here at BYU?

Cinderelly, Cinderelly

Cleaning checks are like death. They have this reputation among BYU students that they are super strict to the point where hardly anybody passes their checks the first time through. I was petrified last year in the dorms when we were notified of our first checks. I spent hours on my jobs, making sure that the apartment was spotless. My RA came in, looked at the place, called it good, and left. I was slightly disappointed. The same thing happened at my new apartment.
Cinderella and I forged a new connection last night. I was on my hands and knees for hours, scrubbing the grime and mysterious boogers off the baseboards behind the couch. My job was one of the hardest ones, considering the fact that most of our food threw up in the oven and our living room is ginormous. I was up until 1:30 deep cleaning the microwave for crying out loud! And for what? A scary lady who came in, walked around the kitchen and into the bathrooms, but didn't step one foot inside the living room or our bedrooms. Are you kidding me?! Oh, but don't worry. She managed to check the one thing that I accidentally overlooked on my list: the floor underneath the oven. So, I failed, and I have to pay a $5 re-check fee and possibly $30 for a cleaning service to come if I fail again. Lovely. . .

Wouldn't It Be Nice If We Were Younger?

I miss my childhood. It completely sucks growing up! Lately, all my friends and I have been talking about the things we miss about our childhoods and how the tv shows and games kids have now are just pathetic in comparison. . .
1. Boy Meets World. Need I say more?
2. Recess
3. Arthur
4. Puzzle Place
5. Sesame Street (before Bert and Ernie had to move out)
6. Pepper Ann
7. Gargoyles
8. Ghost Writer
9. Scooby Doo
10. Saved By the Bell
11. Hey, Arnold!
12. Even Stephens
And the list goes on and on and on!
I miss those days! I have been craving to watch Boy Meets World for weeks now and I never know when it comes on TV! Blast cable and our old school TVs!

More Self-Discoveries

Last night I was sitting on the couch with a guy I only really know through texting. We were watching the Italian Job with my roommates and Aaron Beenfield. This guy, we'll call him Moe, kept up a habit of poking me and pestering me all night long, and I kicked and smacked and fought back, like I normally do. Finally, about and hour into the movie, I turned to him and demanded to know why he was being such a punk. He replied that he thought it was funny the way I reacted. I have been told this on several different occasions and couldn't figure out why everybody always noticed this. He went on to ask me if I had any older brothers. I told him yes, but that they were a heck of a lot older than I am. He said, "I can tell. Most girls who have brothers who've constantly teased and pestered them have a 'fight back' attitude."
Ohhhhhhh! I finally get it! People, guys in particular, have always commented on the fact that I'm very abusive, (in a very non-threatening way). It was something that I was always self-conscious about and tried to control better. But whenever I had someone pestering me, I would always find myself fighting back and I couldn't figure out why. Now I get it! Thanks brothers for keeping me feisty!

Adventures

I had a nightmare last night. Or early this morning. It was an extremely odd nightmare. Looking back on it, I don't really see why it was so frightening, I only remember the feeling I had during it.
There was a big white castle, the kind that you see on Disney princess movies. It was a pristine white that glittered when the sun hit the towers just right. The castle was nestled into a spring green mountain side, and the light that filtered the air gave the feeling that it was mid-May. I had the feeling that something terrible was looming ahead. The panic in my own heart was mirrored in the nameless character's faces. The only thing I knew was that the people of the castle's village were in terrible danger and we, (meaning myself and just a handful of other nameless characters) needed to get the people to the shelter of the pristine castle.
To top off the feeling of the dream, my subconscious had to add the knowledge that Elder Dearden was serving his mission at that very castle. I knew which tower he was in, and the fact that we were in the same place was killing me. I found myself at the front door of the castle and soon enough, Elder D and his companion came walking out. It was strange because they were no longer dressed in the traditional black and white missionary garb, but rather in jeans and a t-shirt. In fact, the t-shirt he was wearing was one of the many shirts that I spent a long time folding last night at my job. Needless to say, I was speechless at the sight of him. It was against the rules for him to even look at me and I had so much that I wanted to say to him. My mind ruled over my heart, however, and I quickly put as much distance between us as I could. He followed me. He was testing my will-power and it was on it's last, worn thread. I remember I finally asked him a question, and instead of addressing me, he answered my question to the friend standing next to me. I was hurt and felt rejected, even though I knew he couldn't look at me, let alone talk to me. But, we were in danger and we could die! Did that mean nothing to him?!
My dream catapulted forward in time. The people of the castle's village were securely in the confines of the castle and those of us who could fight were braced for an attack. The enemy was slowly advancing. It was an army of X-Men with that guy who could manipulate metal as the leader. He pulled apart the hidden shelter that shielded the people of the village and exposed them. I felt a loss of hope and knew I would never be able to make it out a live. As soon as those thoughts sprinted across my mind, a light bulb turned on. I was an X-Man too and I could fight back!
Are you on the edge of your seat? I was too. Then, as most cheesy stories and dreams end, I woke up to my roommate's alarm clock.