Letting it Go.

Last summer, my friends and I went around and answered the question of what we would do if we weren't scared.

Most of the boys said they would ask more girls on dates (eye roll).  I said that I would say no more often and cut my hair.

I've had long hair since I was in sixth grade?  It just grew and grew and grew.  It was part of who I was.  Long brown hair....it's progressively gotten shorter over the years, an inch here and there.

I've realized that when I go back in the fall, I don't want to want to be the same person who left.  There were so many parts of me that weren't working anymore.  There were so many parts of me that no longer were who I wanted to be.  And I have a lot of work until to do before I go back in the fall.

But, I cut my hair.  I cut it because I needed something to change.  I needed to let go of that fear.  I needed to let go of everyone's expectations.  And I know it's drastic to say that all of people's expectations were tied up in my hair, but it mostly felt like it.

I am having a slight identity crisis because for whatever reason, my hair has been a part of me for a while.  But I think feeling a little panicky about who I am and what I want to be is good.

So here's to shorter hair and lighter expectations.  Here's to trying again.  Here's to reading scriptures on forgiveness, and trying to figure out how to forgive everyone back home and figuring out how to forgive myself.  Here's to letting go of previous definitions of myself.

Perfect Recipe

When I first moved into this apartment, I was convinced that I had made the biggest mistake.  I thought the location was bad.  I was worried about hating living with Alesha.  I was worried about my job.  The apartment was filthy and I was fairly certain I was going to hate my ward.

And now, two years later and I cried saying goodbye to Alesha.

I think it's fitting that I am the last one to leave, I mean after all, I was the first one to move in.

I hope the girls that live here next laugh a lot.  I hope one of them continually does somersaults of the bed, making a sound like an old grandpa, when trying to turn the light out.  I hope that the blinds are continually open, and that the girls say on a daily basis, I'm sure no one can see in, right?  I hope that for at least one semester, everyone in the apartment has 8 a.m. classes or work, but they get up at 7:30 to get ready because they are that low-maintenance.  I hope that the girls throw parties and go to extreme lengths to maintain a theme that no one seems to ever fully appreciate.  I hope that the girls look at their BWN (back-window neighbors), see Taco Bell, and have to get it themselves.  I hope that one of them has a blue car called Tiffany that is the designated driver (but not in the drunk way :).  I hope the girls that live here hang lots of pictures that they have memorized by the end of the year.  I hope they have controversial home decor, like the book Sex and World Peace and the 'Don't Text Him' cross-stitch.  I hope they have two Kitchenaids, because why not, you know?  I hope they have people over every night in the summer time, watching movies and making cookies in 13 minutes.  I hope they have 'bum-shaking' time in the kitchen-dancing to Timber like nobody's business.  I hope they have assigned seats everywhere-in the car and the kitchen.  I hope they spend hours studying for tests at the kitchen table.  I hope they have 5 pinatas in the basement from their Cinco De Mayo party.  I hope they have a closet that is so full of leftover party supplies that whenever anyone has a question, they just say ask the closet.  I hope they have a quote fridge full of funnies, as well as a picture of Two-Part Hotchkiss.  I hope they Saturday morning breakfasts that consist of leftover mocktails and sometimes chocolate cake.  I hope they talk into the late hours of the night, wondering if their laughter is walking up their other roommates.  I hope they play hot sauce baseball (don't ask) and keep hot sauce in classy bowls for the next two years.  I hope they 'burn the triangles' (again...don't ask).  I hope they get the nickname the 'Holy Trinity' because they are that versatile of a force.

The only reason why I hope all of these things is because I think it's the perfect recipe for the perfect two years.

As Alesha said, it's the perfect place to be a heathen for two years.

xo. Elise

The Hard Stuff

I am sitting here, writing the essays that I have been dreading for far too long, after a night where everything just hit the fan, and I'm wondering why I was left in the middle of it all.  I am listening to the CD that has gotten me through all of the hard stuff before, but I still feel slightly sick to my stomach.

All of this is to get my fingers moving and my mind spinning.  This moment feels slightly like jumping off a cliff I don't want to approach.  Everyone is telling me to be more specific on what I want to do and who I want to be.  Everyone is asking, trying to figure out the secret.  And I would really just like some time to do my laundry.

I guess what I'm saying is I am being brave, and I am so proud of myself I can hardly stand it.  There are so many things in my life that scare me, but I am going to do them anyway.  And that, my friends, is cool.

Too Small

I never thought I would outgrow my goal system.  I guess I always thought, on some level, that I would have a 45 going on 46 list (even though as I type that it seems crazy and worn out).  But as I've gone throughout this year, I realized that my list of 19 things to complete before I was 20 is no longer serving me.  They have become a checklist, not a list to push myself.  They have become something to cross off, not something to revel in.  I am almost done with the list, and instead of feeling satisfaction at the new things I've learned, I feel relief.

And in some ways, it's scary because I don't know how else to evaluate myself.  The list of 16 things to do before I was 17 stemmed from a lot of pain and insecurity, and I began the pattern with a hope of developing myself.

I started this blog as a way to push myself out of my comfort zone.  I entered a photography contest.  I broke my record in the mile.  I've tried a new art form.  I ran a half marathon.  I took first in a debate tournament.  I got a hundred on a math test.  I beat my dad in a push-up contest.  I made a cake for an event.  I went to college.

I look past at these old goals and these old lists.  I did so many brave, hard things because of them.  And I'm so glad I did.

But this is my last year.  I am finishing these season on an even number at the beginning of a decade.  I am entering my infamous twenties.  And I want to give myself permission to find new ways to evaluate myself because I keep changing.  And only recently have I realized just how much I have changed.

xo. Elise

August 15th

Yesterday was August 15th, the day I deemed a holiday last year on my 18 going on 19 list.  At the beginning of the year, I put celebrate August 15th on my list of goals.  I had big plans about celebrating it, even though none of them were concrete.  As the year has progressed, and as my motivation decreased, I didn't have any great plans for yesterday.  I forgot it was my holiday until midmorning.  And the rest of the day felt like a secret party.

I didn't write down any goals or reflect on the past year.  I did go see a movie with my parents, stop by the farmer's market, see the progress on the house, and go on a seven mile run.  It was a basic Saturday, but as I settled into the movie theater with a handful of popcorn, it felt like a celebration.

I didn't even splurge on a dessert yesterday, and somehow not doing that and celebrating a holiday seem incongruous to me.  But I'm realizing that it's ok.  Leading a good life, full of celebration and parties is a great way to live.  But it doesn't always have to be loud.  And sometimes celebrating something is a small feeling deep inside you that sends a thrill down your spine.

My view of celebration has changed, and I'm ok with that.

xo. Elise

Goodbyes

As I was driving home today, I realized I am anxious to get to a spot in my life that is settled.  A slightly preposterous thing to want since I am in a time where nothing in my life is settled.  I have too many transitions to count coming up in the next few years, and right now, that is disheartening.

I really would like to just have a friend stay, instead of leaving.  I would really like to not have to say goodbye to myself every couple of months, as a new Elise parades in with the old insecurities and familiar fears, yet a completely different reaction to everything else.  I would appreciate just being able to go and see the cherry tree in my backyard, without remembering how much everything has changed since last year--probably the biggest change being that we don't have a cherry tree in our backyard anymore.

Sometimes the idea of new new new is enticing and intoxicating.  I have so many relationships in my life that I would love to let just slip and disappear.  Clean slates have always been my favorite, and I love seeing the fresh new start.

But right now I'm mostly just sad that my friend is leaving me, yet again.  And the same old goodbye routine isn't fun or exciting anymore.  And it mostly just makes me grumpy.

xo. Elise

Finals 3&4

The first of my roommates just left.  About 20 minutes ago.  And wow, that's a sobering thought.  I know that this week would be hard, and I was expecting it.  But I didn't expect to feel this uneasy and shocked.

I officially only have one final left.  That's it.  It's my hardest one, so it's going to require studying for three days straight.  Everything is slowly wafting down and coming to a close.

It's terrifying, but still really really good.

Last night my friends and I went to the Cannon Center because Alesha hadn't been this year.  It was pure bliss to not cook anything yesterday or have to do dishes.  Seriously, a burger never tasted so good.  Also, the frozen yogurt was some of the best I've had.  Ever.

Anyway, I am done with 5/6 of my finals.  And things are working out.  I'm feeling settled, but still sad.  There is that tendril inside of me that keeps reminding me that this is it.  This is my last Saturday, here, in this bedroom.  And wow, it's all sorts of crazy to think that.

It's embarrassing how many plates we had + how long it took us to get the self-timer right.  

We were walking home, and wow, the lighting was perfect.  This year has been so beautiful.  

A selfie to prove that yes, I am surviving.  Not exactly getting ready, but details. 

To be completely honest, I am not loving this stage right now. I don't love finals.  I don't love saying goodbye.  I don't love leaving.  The only thing that is making it semi ok is Park City next week.  But this week is still going to be hard.  And Monday, so help me, is going to be awful.  

Cheers for almost being done with finals.  2 Timothy 1:7 is my mantra, and I've been writing it on my scratch paper for every test. 

xo. Elise 

Long

I went to lunch with a friend today and we just talked about all of the change happening and how we don't like it.  College requires a lot more faith than I expected, which I suppose is a really good thing. I always need more faith in my life.

I looked out the window, just now.  And saw the pavilion and basketball court that I've been looking at for the past seven months.  And I'm just a little shocked.  I have been living here forever.  Forever.  I can't even remember not living here or not being familiar with this view.  The semester has blended together and it's shocking to be right here.

I remember in January, when Sam was really stressed and overwhelmed with school.  She told me that part of her just wished it was finals weeks so classes could be done and homework over with.  But she followed it up with how she didn't want that because then it would be over.  Everything would be over.

And now, here we are, in the last full week of the semester and it's shocking.

Because finals week will be happening soon.  And this year will be over.  And I'm going to need my faith more than expected.

xo. Elise

Good Things Keep Coming

Around this time last year, I was nervous and stressed and going out of my mind preparing for the culmination of my senior year.  I hadn't really decided where I was going to college.  Every one kept bringing it up.  I remember being on a road trip with my dad and getting an email, inviting me to an exclusive reception event for the Huntsman program.

I wrote these words when my mind was going in circles:

"I don't know what to do.  What if I'm supposed to go to BYU? What if I'm supposed to go to USU? How am I supposed to know.  What if I never find the answer.  What if I spend half my life wondering where and when.  I think of all my...

Heavenly Father, I want to get out of Logan.  I want to escape.  I want to leave and be brave.  I want to leave.  And I can't do that at Utah State.  I can't.  Even though it's cheaper.  Even though I may have great opportunities.

What do I really really really really want? I want to leave.  I want to leave Cache Valley."

When you are in the middle of transition and decisions, it seems like you will never see the light.  Things will never be made clear.  And everything is hard and confusing.  And a small part of you is afraid that nothing will be as good as it is right now.

This extremely blurry picture is a testament to me that this is where I'm supposed to be.  I am in the spot, meeting the people I need to meet, having the experiences I am supposed to have.  

And in a year from now, I will wonder why on earth I was sad about my freshman year ending when I was going to meet so many beautiful, great people in this new stage in my life.  

I am grateful I have a Heavenly Father who continually sends good things my way. 

xo. Elise 

Socks in the Laundry Room

I'm moving today.  Not in the traditional, pick up fifty cardboard boxes, eat take-out for five meals in a row, and stuff your earthly possessions in your car sense, but I'm moving.

I'm saying goodbye to this house that has helped raise me.  I'm looking at the view of the mountains out of my window one last time.  Using those hooks all around my room for blazers, coats, and purses, just like always.  I already said goodbye to the backyard, and I'm going to have to say goodbye to the fireplace, playroom, bathroom, and my room today.

I know that this house is a building made of brick and stone and concrete and wood.  But it's also a home made of laughs and love and tears and food and memories.  In one moment, it is a combination of lifeless and full of life that leaves me feel dizzy.

It makes me happy a family is moving in.  It makes me happy a little kid will be sleeping in my room and growing up in it.  It makes me happy that for a while, this house will be known as the 'Clark' house, probably irritating the new owners who are still trying to wipe our laughter off the walls and replace it with their own.

I hope the kids slide down the banister in between when the movers walk in.  I hope they never put new stone on the fireplace, it looks good now, but if they do, I hope the kids get the joy of holding rock up until the end of time.  I hope they have a fun-filled Saturday spreading wood chips and having brown feet from the dye (side note, very grateful I didn't have to spread wood chips again this summer).  I hope the kids go deep into the raspberries to get all the shiny gems, and I hope they figure out they need to net the cherry tree to actually produce any cherries.  I hope that they are dumb enough to try to fit through the hideout window and relish in the moment when they realize they can. I hope that they enjoy the mini fridge stuffed with drinks.  I hope the pizza oven burns hot, once they figure out how to use it, and they enjoy the melting cheese and gooey crust of the best pizza they will have.  I hope they race up and down, up and down, up and down the stairs, and even when they're 19, they still lope up the stairs at the same rate, knowing exactly where to step.  I hope they have a rule on Christmas that they have to make their beds before they open presents and that they try not to peek over the balcony (even though we all have that sibling that actually does peek when they're not supposed to).  I hope they learn to wear socks in the laundry room, or risk freezing to the ground.  I hope they do the annual migration downstairs when they realize the upper level is as hot as hades.  I hope they even start to curse the previous family about the dumb parts of the house, like the air conditioner that doesn't work and the different locks on every door (that may have caused someone to swear in the recent past).

 I'm ok if our family takes the blame because it mean that we still have a connection to this little house.  It can be a secret between us of who really takes the blame for all of the dumb quirks.

This house of mine isn't going to be mine after today.  We already have two offers and are just waiting to finally leave.  But I am grateful for this place.  Last time we moved, it was eerily similar.  I was nine (I am now 19).  We sold our house lightning fast (a divine sign we need to move and a testament to my parents' decorating skills).

Thanks for everything, house.  Thanks to the people who have helped raise me.  Thanks for the memories and the laughs and the hard stuff.  This little post is hardly adequate, but thank you, from the bottom of this little girl's heart.

xo. Elise

Break

My word for this year is break.  

Break: to open suddenly especially because of pressure from inside.

Isn't that a great definition?  To open. 

However, all of these make my heart go patter, they are just that great:  

• interrupt (a continuity, sequence, or course)

• put an end to (a silence) by speaking or making contact.• make a pause in (a journey)• stop proceedings in order to have a pause or vacation• lessen the impact of (a fall)• stop oneself from being subject to (a habit).• put an end to (a tie in a game) by making a score.• make a rush or dash in a particular direction:• surpass (a record)• disconnect or interrupt • curve or drop on its way toward the batter.• rebound unpredictably•change direction on bouncing, due to spin.
Last year, my word was change.  And goodness, that was the best word I could have possibly chosen for myself. Things have changed in so many ways: debate ending, graduating high school, moving out, Anne moving to D.C., my parents moving.  Nothing is really the same.  Sometimes all of the goodbyes I've been saying makes me hallow inside.  One after another after another after...can I stop making friends with pre-mish?  K, thanks. 
I'm ending this year in awe of every blessing.  It's a relief to look past at this year and realize that I was happy.  And I had a beautiful year.  I'm shoving that foreboding joy away and reminding myself that I am blessed to be here right now, in this moment when the plates are spinning in a beautiful pattern.  I'm not going to wait for the crash, but instead going to enjoy the show. 
2015.  It's going to be good.  My goal for the year is to be simply happy.  Freedom is not unattainable.  I don't have to be chained. 
My goals this year aren't as specific as they usually are.  They are a little more open-ended, with a blank spot on my list.  
Good luck with everything.  Take a deep breath.  It's going to be good.  
xo. Elise 

Countdown

Only 25 minutes left of 2014, and hope is the only thing that is getting me through until midnight (....am I getting old?)

2014 has been so full of so many beautiful moments, and I can only thank my Heavenly Father again and again for what He blessed me with.

2015, though, man, it's going to be so good.  I don't even have that many great plans ahead.  I don't have any exciting trips, big accomplishments, or milestones to accomplish.

I still have one blank spot on my goal list that I'm chewing on (which is pretty much opposite of me every other New Year's).

But I've decided that it's good enough to be happy.  And I am really excited to be really happy.

Because I was really happy this year.  I'm good with that streak continuing.

s/o to my sister for our rebellious night (ok, that's what our matching shirts said anyway).

Also, s/o to our neighbors who keep freaking us out by setting off fireworks.  Happy New Year to you.

xo. Elise

18 Going on 19

It's so strange to think that I completed my third list #go# list. I remember the moment I wrote my first one.  It was during Sacrament Meeting, right after I didn't make the volleyball team that I wanted.  I was devastated since my identity had been snatched up right from underneath me.  And it was awful.  I was angry and started writing down every single thing I did that had nothing to do with volleyball.  And that is where the sixteen items came from.  And it felt good to see in black and white that I was a girl who was more than just a sport.  The gift of perspective has taught me that I have always been more than a simple game, trophy, record, grade, score, achievement, and award.  I am more than any number or talent.  And I am grateful that this silly, little list has helped me see that. 

I know some people don't really 'get' my obsession with lists.  Not going to lie, there have definitely been moments that I don't get them either.  I actually gave up on lists in October, and it is so freeing.  As time goes on, I'm learning that goals and lists aren't everything.  Sometimes it's ok to drop it all.  But I want to continue with this list.  I love New Year's with a very healthy obsession, and I want this year's list to be full of beautiful things that I truly love.  I want to use this list to accomplish things that make my heart sing.  I have a really really good feeling about 2015.  

My birthday is in three days (3!).  It's funny, I didn't want to turn 18 last year.  It seemed too old and too scary for me to handle.  Yet here I am, feeling completely ready to be 19.  I can handle it.  Turning 18 was such a beautiful experience.  My senior year really was going perfectly.  My mom threw me the best surprise party.  I was accomplishing a lot and really loving it.  

Now I'm turning 19 with a great life.  I get along with my roommates, I love my college, and I'm close with my family.  I've developed a fun friend group.  I'm feeling hopeful.  

Recap of my 18go19 list: 

Go to college. (This was so hard but so good in the best way possible). 

Graduate high school. (One of the few days that I remember as being so absolutely perfect.  A celebration of a phase that was so good for me.)

Make a new dessert. (I can't even remember what the first one was, but I've tried so many this year!  From French macaroons, custard ice cream, peanut butter bars, berry crisp, etc).

Try swimming (This was pretty much a fail, but I tried it, even if it was hard).

Run a 1/2 marathon (or 10k) (Wow, I actually did this! One of the few things that kept me sane during the summer (or maybe it kept me insane).  This was so hard but crossing the finish lines is still one of the most rewarding things I've done.  I finished the race, had breakfast, and proceeded to move out later that afternoon.  Take about crazy).

Do yoga. (hehe, done the day before the half marathon.  I actually really liked it, but I haven't done it since). 

Make gelato. (Booyah, strawberry gelato.  Check).

Create a holiday. (August 15th--saying goodbye to summer.  A school year New Year's Eve.)

Try a new art form. (Counting coloring with crayons for my December Advent.  I also am counting all of the cooking I've done and decorating my dorm).

Read a biography. (Boys in a Boat.  Fascinating read, I really learned a lot).

Organize room. (Counting setting up my room at BYU and leaving my room at home). 

Start a tradition. (Make banana bread on the first snowfall of the year). 

Create a time capsule. (Wrote it down and put it in the little envelope in my high school journal).

Try a new ice cream flavor. (Actually made it a goal to try all of the flavors at the BYU Creamery so I am definitely accomplishing that goal). 

Dance in public. (The Sweetheart's Dance I danced my heart out and loved it, p.s.)

Create a hidden sanctuary. (Balcony at the JFSB.  Actually that whole building.  I kind of love it.  Also, the bench across the street from it with the old bell). 

Listen to someone. (Really tried to do that this year).

Do that thing that terrifies you. (I did a lot of these this year.  Sterling Scholar.  We the People. A.P. tests.  Debate state.  Graduation.  Half marathon.  Move to college.  Volunteer with Student Alumni.  Take finals. Go to class.  I mostly put this on my list to remind myself to do the hard things.  It's easier for me to do that thing that scares me when I know I can cross it off my list).  

My heart is so full tonight.  I had the best time talking to my sister and almost cried when I saw how much she loved her students and how much they loved her.  My parents are the sweetest.  Life is just so good.  And I am going to continue to relish in this for as long as I can.  

xo. 

Elise 

Saviors

I love the idea of saviors.  I love the fact that I have a Savior, someone who made pure cleansing possible. 

            

But I also believe that Heavenly Father puts certain people in your life to be saviors when you need it, you know, when He can’t quite show Himself. 

I am sitting here on my couch, looking at three of my saviors today.  My roommates and our friend Josh are playing a card game, making philosophy seem a little boring.

          

I woke up today feeling completely exhausted and more than a little lonely.  I opened my door to find a string of ethereal, origami butterflies strung across the frame. I walk into the kitchen and find Reeses Pieces (my favorite) and a wall of butterflies, just absolutely gorgeous.  My roommates wrote 19 things they love about me on them.  I haven’t read most of them since I can’t bear to take them all down, but they are so beautiful.  I almost started crying because of their kindness.  Josh brought me Warheads, sparkling cider, and more Reeses Pieces. 

            

And they did all of this because we are celebrating my fake birthday today.  Aren’t they just the nicest? 

            

I am so grateful to have these people in my life and these daily saviors.  In the midst of finals weeks, I have needed tender mercies more than ever.  I’m also grateful for a Heavenly Father that answers prayers in what may seem the absolutely worse way possible, yet somehow it works.  I’m feeling grateful to have been feeling lonely so I need Him, and feeling ok with being humbled. 

I've Learned

I'm sitting, here, waiting for my last class of 2014 and of my first college semester.  I actually did it.  I survived my first semester of college, and I'm even happier to modestly say that I've thrived.

It's so disheartening to me to realize I only have a semester left of this time.  Living where I do, with the people I do, with the friends I have, everything is so depressingly temporary.  It is going to be for just one year, and now it's going to be just for one semester more.

I was talking with two friends from high school last night, and we talked about how much I had changed.  I am so much happier.  I am more relaxed.  People just don't know my accomplishments, but they actually know me.  They know me.  They don't have to know any of that other stuff.  The things I've accomplished are irrelevant.  My reputation is nonexistent since no one really knows me.  I don't have to be managed and ruled by the things I choose to let into my life.  I don't have to be anyway, and that is so darn refreshing.

I have learned that cookies can be made at any time of night or day.  I have learned that showering in the morning means your hair is going to be a lot easier to fix.  I have learned that high-heeled ankle booties usually kill by the end of the two mile walk to and from class, but they are worth it.  I've learned that sometimes sleep is worth the sacrifice if you get to stay up late having beautiful conversations or hysterical laughing fits.  I've learned you really don't need everything to live as you once thought you did.  I've learned that you should remember to show up and complete the things you said you would because you are building a little baby reputation.  I've learned that ice cream runs are so much fun.  I've learned that having a best friend is better than expected.  I've learned that college unites people in an unexpected way and that some friendships are just meant to be.  I've learned to ignore the dishes in the sink,  and I've learned to put my clothes in the hamper.  I've learned that sometimes you have to think about what is best for others before you can think about what you would rather be doing.  I've learned that campus is a lot smaller than you originally thought, and eventually there will be people and places that are so familiar you can't remember not knowing.  I've learned that grocery shopping is a lot of fun but bringing groceries into the house is one of the biggest pains that I have ever had to deal with.  I've learned phone calls can save you and text messages can revive you.  I've learned it's ok to miss your old life, and it's ok to be happy that you are missed in your old life.  I've learned that I need to work more on being kinder than necessary.  I've learned that sleep is as hard to get as people say it is.  I've learned that having the basketball court outside my window can be one of the most infuriating things about my life, but also something that makes us all feel connected.

xo. Elise

Girl

It's funny, I was thinking about how much more relaxed I am now that I am in college, and then today happened.  In a few hours, I will be in a phone interview for a scholarship, and to say I'm nervous is an understatement.  I'm nervous, just like I was in high school.  I've got my whole family in on it too, just like in high school.  I don't know what I would do without their support and prayers.

I was talking to a couple of friends of mine who also applied for the scholarship, but didn't get a phone interview.  I was chatting with one after class today, and he mentioned they both wondered if I got a phone interview because I was a girl.

I probably should have just smiled to myself, and said, maybe.

Instead, I did the typical response.  I said it was probably because I was president of four clubs, took a lot of college classes, and was valedictorian of my class.  Ouch, way to go for the humility Elise.

I was thinking about it yesterday how it's funny no one here really knows what I was like in high school.  I don't act the same way I did, super involved, super intense.  College doesn't provide me with the same opportunities to act like I did in high school, and I am ok with that.

I can't blame the boys for thinking it was because I was a girl.  As far as they could tell, I was an ordinary college freshman who did worse on her biology tests than one of them.  I was so incredibly busy my senior year, and they didn't see any of that.

Maybe it was because I was a girl.  I don't really care.  It's a weird feeling to be flashbacked to all-too-familiar nervousness.  The icy finger-tips, rock in my stomach, and strained laugh.

But hey, I'm ok with it.

xo. Elise

Is this what it's like?

I remember walking down the hallways of my high school, teetering on a low pair of high heels in preparation for my first debate tournament.  I remember naively texting my sister, who was a college freshman at the time, "Is this what it's like to be in college?"

Yes,  I cringe in embarrassment sharing that, but I was thinking about that moment today.  I was walking past Rigby and Sadler's room, wearing that free Anthropology dress I got, and a turquoise cardigan.  And my black high heels.  I remember feeling so old and mature, hearing the staccato beat of my steps.  

I was pondering that scenario tonight.  Is college really like walking down a high school hallway, teetering on a low pair of high heels in preparation for a debate tournament? 

I am hear to answer.  

Yes, yes it is.  

Sometimes I was walk around campus, and even though I may not be in high heels (heaven help me if I am), it feels the same way.  You feel excited and almost dizzy with the possibilities that stretch before you over the next few years.  

It's freaking exciting to be a college student sometimes.  

xo. Elise

Monkey Bread

This weekend has been rough.  It's General Conference, a weekend full of little traditions and nuances that make you miss home a lot.  BYU played USU this weekend, and they lost!  Who loses to USU? Anyway, this whole weekend has been one whole nostalgic, annoying weekend with a faint "Go Aggies" still echoing in my head.

Today I was feeling particularly sad.  Ugh.  This morning was hard.  I was missing my family so much, and as it says in You've Got Mail, "I missed [my family] so much that I almost couldn't stand it."

But I made monkey bread today.

Monkey bread (n.): refrigerator biscuits, butter, and sugar all warmed together and baked.  Has the power to assuage all homesick feelings someone may have.

Since the first bite, all of my homesickness went away.  I'm not kidding!  It was so weird.  My mom used to make it for General Conference, but she hasn't made it for a few years.  She makes cinnamon rolls now, but monkey bread still reminds me of home.

So I'm good now.  The monkey bread is all gone, but so is most of my homesickness.

Enjoy the stellar quality food photography.

xo. Elise

One Month

Today I am celebrating my one-month anniversary of moving out.  (Ok, if you want to be technical, my parents left me on the 24th, but I haven't been home for a month.  So it counts).  I celebrated by buying chewy Warheads, just like Anne used to buy when she would come home from college.

At the risk of sounding cliche, I'm a little surprised it's only been a month.  I've already lived a lifetime here, yet didn't I only see my parents yesterday?  Moving must change the time-warp somehow.

Anyway, I wanted to jot down some lessons of what I've learned in this month on my own.

1. Everyone's standard of living goes down.  Or maybe it was just mine.  I just spent three years being the only kid at home, and I observed my parents--how they entertained, cooked, lived.  I've come to realize that box mix brownies are just as good as homemade raspberry bars for visiting teaching, and most people really don't care.  College students are very forgiving, especially when it involves food.
2. You really do need to branch out, but it's not as awful as you would guess.  I went into college with everyone telling me that I would have to branch out like crazy and talk to everyone.  I saw my roommate almost go crazy trying to meet everyone, and I realized that you don't have to meet everyone on the first day.  It's not as hard or as strenuous as I thought it would be.
3. You have to turn a blind eye.  No, I'm not just talking about roommate situations (even though you should sometimes do that too in regards to roommate quirks).  I'm talking about the comparison situation.  I've mentioned this before, but all of a sudden everyone is much more comparable.  You really do have to create your own life here.  For the first time, you aren't going through school with five hundred other kids with the same schedule as you.  You have to decide when to say no, when to go to bed, when to run, when to relax, and make sure you accomplish what is important to you.
4.  Everything is a million times more exhausting when you don't have a garage and laundry room in your apartment.  Seriously, going grocery shopping, doing laundry, cooking in an unfamiliar kitchen. Everything is so much work.
5. Alone time is important.  Or at least that's what I tell myself.  I've taken to walking up on campus by myself on Sunday evenings, and yes, I sometimes feel weird.  People really do think it's strange to do anything by yourself, but I can't help it, I love the empty campus.  I guess that's another lesson I learned.  You have to be ok with doing things because you want to.
6. The workload is really constant.  You always have homework to do, regardless of how 'caught up' you are.

That's all I can think of for now.  There have been times throughout this month that I look down at myself and I am amazed at how strong I am.  I have done things I didn't think I could.  I have literally sat outside of buildings, taken deep breaths, and waited ten minutes, praying the whole time, before I have been brave enough to walk inside.  I have really started cleaning my room and straightening everything.  I have said hi to people and gotten used to not always asking my parents if I can do something on Friday night.  I've written my first college paper, read countless textbooks, fallen in love with learning all over again.  I have walked on campus and marveled at my legs that seem to know where they are walking.  This life is new, scary, intoxicating, freeing, hard, natural, strange, and truly beautiful.

xo. Elise

Other People

Going to college is funny, especially one that is so non-diverse.  I live in a building with a couple hundred (mostly) white Mormon girls.

All of the boys I talk to are (mostly) white Mormon boys.

It's funny being in an environment like this because all of a sudden, everything is so comparable...no compete-able.  I have lived in Utah for nine years now.  I'm used to being surrounded by Mormons.  I'm used to knowing that winning a student council election, playing the piano fantastically, and overall being a good kid is a lot harder because of all of the good kids I'm surrounded by.

However, BYU takes it to a whole new level.

All of sudden every single things is comparable.  Freshman live in the same place, are taking the similar classes, go to the same church.  I hate the walk to church because I always feel like it's a bunch of girls that got all dressed up and are parading around.

And I'm tired of it.  I'm tired of constantly trying to win.  I did that all through high school.  All through my life.  I had to be the perfect, A-grade getting, exceeding people's expectations on every single essay, debate tournament, and test.  It's exhausting.

I like to call myself a recovering perfectionist.

And my mom shared this podcast with me that I listened to this morning and that I will listen to again tomorrow.  It's a, listen to this once to hear it and twice to understand it type of podcast.

 It is all about comparing with other people and not caring about what they say.  It was fascinating.

And I'm putting it into practice right now.

I am pushing away the 'I'm not fun/cute/pretty/smart/thin/bubbly/spiritual enough shame.  I'm shoving that into a corner so I can see it squished next to my laundry hamper (face it, in a dorm room, there aren't a lot of alternatives).  I can see it every time I am feeling insecure and remember that I did conquer that fear.

I don't care about what people think of me because I am giving them permission to hate me.  I am giving them permission to really not like me.  I am giving people permission to criticize me.

Because there is absolutely nothing I can do to change it.  And let me tell you, even the thought is making me feel a little more free.

xo. Elise