Happy, Free, Confused Lessons

Before I get nostalgic for 2017 and my 21st year (that's tomorrow, so get excited), I wanted to write 10 more lessons that I learned being a 21 year old.  My first ten lessons were written when I felt like I was finally coming back into myself.  And I am really grateful to feel like this year ended on a high note.  That is actually really special.  So, 10 more lessons I learned being a 21 year old. 

1.  I am big into traditions, and a couple of weeks ago I realized I didn't do half of my 'traditions'.  I didn't get pumpkin waffles at Waffle Love, I didn't make banana bread on the first snowfall.  I didn't eat my pomegranate yogurt on the last day of class.  (Um, all of my traditions have to do with food?).  I didn't hike the Y or have a General Conference breakfast party.  All of these things I used to do, and I just didn't this year.  But I made a lot of new traditions, like going to Cafe Rio or getting Costco hot dogs.  I guess I learned that new definitions of yourself are important.  And it was a good reminder to me to be a little bit more flexible in what could be considered fun.
2.  I learned God is there.  I sometimes feel like my testimony is constantly on this cycle of figuring this out, but this year I hit a new low.  And I am not sure I can convey the state of emergency that I felt I was in.  There are a couple days in particular, that I felt like I was at the edge.  Part of me was screaming, look, I am in so much pain that I don't need to believe in a God who isn't there.  When I write that, it seems dramatic and bizarre.  But I love this story because God is there.  He. Is. There.  I am not always sure why or how or where or any of that, but I do know He is there.  And I am so grateful for that.
3.  I learned that answers to prayers, no, not prayers, that's not right.  I learned that God's plan is really revealed one step at a time and that He can truly change our hearts.  I have seen a change in my life, over this past semester and over this past year.  And I am grateful for it.  Because sometimes you think you are going to be stuck, tired and unsatisfied forever.  But God is a God of change, that's what the Atonement and the Plan of Happiness is all about.
4. I realized that I am a really good friend.  And a good celebrator.  Honestly, this can be a hard thing, a lesson I learned this year.  I have felt abandoned and left by people I had given my deepest trust.  But I am also proud how I continue to celebrate people and continue to invest in those around me.  My mom told me that I take after my Grandma--she was a big celebrator.  And honestly?  I will gladly carry that legacy, even if it is sometimes hurtful.  And it makes me happy to continue to try to be like Christ and be a good friend.  I think it is a worthy cause. 
5. I realized that I am not super great at working in group projects.  I always thought I was good at it?  But I'm really not.  And we are all relieved that I am done with this semester (with 4 group projects!).  It was a good lesson though, and something I need to be aware of heading into my career. 
6.  God gives us what we pray for and sincerely hope for.  He isn't petty, even though I sometimes try to figure out His plan through my petty and insecure head.  It is worth hanging up the boxing gloves when dealing with Heavenly Father because He really knows what He is doing.
7.  I really like learning, and I'm really happy I had such a positive experience at BYU.  This is an important trait for me to learn because I need to be conscious of it going forward.  I realized that even if work is incredibly boring, I can still learn from it.  That is helpful to remember.
8.  I learned it is incredibly rewarding to make decisions based on what is best for Elise.  I am such an outsourcer and a researcher and an opinion-asker.  This is helpful when buying shoes?  But for my life decisions?  I can make my own decisions, and I can do it confidently.  For me, this has meant planning a trip, saying no to a relationship, choosing a study abroad, and accepting a full-time job offer.  All of these decisions have caused a lot of stress and worry, but I am proud of the life I am creating. 
9. I realized I have enough grit to crawl out of some pretty terrible months.  I realized I have it in me to be happy again, and that is pretty cool to me.  Being happy takes so much work, but I am proud of myself for working towards it, purposefully and often.
10.  This world is beautiful and it is full of so much.  New York City, Prince Edward Island, St. George, Palm Springs, Washington D.C., even West Chester.  All of these places are out there full of good food and sunshine and that is just beautiful to me.  It's out there to see, with different sunsets and late nights and weird smells and traffic and I love it. 
10.5  I keep learning this, but good people keep coming, and some really great people, stay for the whole thing.  I feel so in debt to the people who stuck with me, even though I was struggling.  And I am so grateful to the people who let me in, even though I was still a little fragile and wildly unsure.  And I just think that's beautiful too.  Good people. 

xo. Elise

And then there was one...

I actually feel really good about my final today.  So I'm not going to check the score until after my birthday because why ruin a good feeling. 

This week is full of lasts and full of people who I want to see before I leave and full of stress, hoping I can fit everything into my car when I drive away.

In any case, I am feeling a smidge better about my future.  About the whole leaving thing.  About the whole new definition of Elise thing.  I have been thinking and praying a lot about timing in life, and what it means for me.  I still feel very much like the sophomore who was working so incredibly hard to get into the strategy program.  And here I am, almost a successful graduate.  The past couple of years flew by, yet crawled? 

And now I'm leaving for Spain in 22 days (WOW).  And I have one final left. 

In any case, I'm happy right now.  And it feels like such a stark contrast when I wasn't sure I was going to feel happy in a really long time. 

xo. Elise

Experiment

This felt a little forced at times, but it mostly felt really good to write.  

2017 has been the best year of my life. I got an excuse to skip class for the first time when I was sick.  I took third in the biggest case competition and got a really cool jacket.  I put a ton of work into it, and felt like I really made progress since last year.  I had a fantastic 21^st birthday party, thrown by some of my closest friends and attended by so many good people in my life.  I went on a lot of really fun and creative dates where the guys were excited to talk with me and had put effort forth into planning the date.  I went to Goblin Valley on a whim, which was so much fun and so needed.  I had really interesting classes and group work that pushed me to learn how to work with others and learn from others.  My professors assigned interesting readings, and I truly felt their passion for the subject.  I got to see one of my best friends get engaged to a guy she truly loves, and another one of my friends started dating someone she had a crush on for a while.  Another one of my friends got the internship of her dreams.  I got the chance to celebrate with a lot of different people about a lot of really awesome things that were happening in their lives.  I got to see a lot of different family members and have really good conversations with them.  I accepted in an internship in a location that pushed me and that gave me a summer adventure.  I got to see a lot of the East Coast, while strengthening a lot of relationships with old friends and family.  I got to work for a skills-specific company that gave me a lot of new skills and forced me to adapt and learn quickly.  I got to work with a lot of dynamic and creative people who had completely different backgrounds than me and who taught me a lot. I’ve had a lot of really deep, and sometimes difficult conversations with people, but they have gone well and I have gained confidence in my ability to convey my feelings and promptings.  I got to train for a new half marathon and support my friend in her first race.  I was able to try a lot of different food and push myself creatively to shop a little smarter.  I had my first spring break in college! I earned money doing meaningful work that contributed to the overall company goals.  I ended the semester with really good grades and a solid resume heading into the full-time recruiting season.  I applied and interviewed for a club leadership position, a position I wanted and am excited about as the school year starts.  I had the chance to bear my testimony and feel the Spirit that comes with that.  I had the chance to record daily tender mercies and see the fulfillment of God’s promises to me.  I got to eat a lot of really good yogurt and found some awesome new music.  I attended the concert of one of my favorite bands, and it definitely lived up to expectations.  I was able to be a bridesmaid in one of my best friends weddings and celebrate her new life.  I moved out of an apartment I loved, and I will move into an apartment I’m actually really excited about.  I went to the temple nearly every week during the school year.  I have learned about several new opportunities in areas that are really exciting to me, and I’m excited to see where they lead.  I learned that some of the cousins I’m closest to are attending BYU or moving to Utah. A couple of my really close friends are going to be back at BYU from the fall, and I’m excited to see them again and catch up from the past couple of years.  I’ve eaten a lot of great food that reminds me that there is so much out there.  I’ve traveled a lot this summer, sometimes by myself and sometimes with people who I absolutely love spending time with.  I’ve gained a lot of adult skills that I didn’t anticipate, but for which I’m really grateful for because I feel more comfortable heading into unknown situations.  I’ve read some really good books from some of my favorite authors, as well as some books that have caused me to rethink some goals and how I want to accomplish them.  I’ve started studying and preparing for the LSAT, a goal that is a little more vulnerable and a little scarier, but it feels really good.  I’ve lived in three different apartments, and each time everything worked out with keys, moving in, and moving out.  I’ve attended different wards and been reminded that the Church is the support system you truly need wherever you go in the world.  I’ve had the opportunity to learn more of what God needs me to be, in ways that I couldn’t have predicted for myself.  I’ve thrown parties for my friends when they’re happy, and I’ve comforted my friend on one of the hardest nights she’s had in a while.  I’ve stood by my opinion, and have felt the confidence and respect that comes.  I’ve bought some really cute clothes that I like and that I feel comfortable in.  I have lifted weights a little bit more, and relished in both the familiarity and the challenge that area of fitness brings.  I have written in my journal and prayed a lot to hear what God has to tell me.

So, yep, I’ve had the best year of my life.  The second half has some pretty high expectations. 

Miracle at Philadelphia

When I was in high school, I read a book for A.P. gov called Miracle at Philadelphia.  The whole premise was about the creation of the Constitution and the miraculous journey that occurred with the birth of a new nation.

I think what's interesting about miracles is they often don't come in the miraculous way we expect.  We so desperately want to be given sight and see the miracle play out.  We want to get right up and start walking, even though it has taken far too long to even be able to see.

God fixes us and sends us where we need to go when we're broken, even when we don't know we're broken.

Three years ago I wrote a ten page report on the Miracle at Philadelphia.  And this summer I lived a miracle at Philadelphia (+/- 50 miles).  At the beginning of the summer in the haze of moving and confusion on what on earth I was doing here, I had people tell me I came here for a reason.  In our earthly view, that would mean a miracle--right?  An obvious, delivered straight from heaven miracle.  For me, that would probably be meeting my future spouse, loving my internship for a full-time job, or receiving all of the answers in one fell swoop.  <-- Miracles!  That would be miraculous.  Instead, I got a lot of forgiveness, some closure, a lot of adventures, and some time to think.  <-- Miracles? Still yes.

I will gratefully look back on this time as the season of life that was a miracle at Philadelphia.   Small miracles on the daily.

xo. Elise

Three Strikes

I've had three different beginnings to this post, and each one seems inadequate for the apologies, metaphors, and epiphanies in my head.  I want to get it exactly right.  I want to write an essay that is both overwhelmingly wise and merciful, while still skewering those I'm mad at.  I've realized that type of writing is impossible because those two emotions can't exist at the same time.  And I'm a little scared to put this out there because it shows so many parts of me I'm not proud of.

I have long acknowledged that mercy is a weakness of mine.  I have a hard time forgiving people, partly because I have such high standards and partly because I'm sensitive.  I feel easily, both good and bad, even though I've been giving into the bad more easily these days.

And partly because you feel powerful when you withhold mercy.  It feels good to have a list, full of people you haven't forgiven yet.

I've realized in the game of life, I've recruited everyone to my baseball league.  Whether people knew it or not, they were all on home plate.  I've made a comeback to my old position of pitcher, and instead of my previous slow pitch, I keep winding it up and slicing it perfectly across the plate.

Some people get out quickly, three strikes no problem.  One rude remark, one inadequate group assignment, and one late appearance, and hey batter, batter swing.  You're out.

I haven't thought much about those people Not exactly forgive and forget, more like roll my eyes and forget.  If I'm ever CEO of an aggressive, ruthless company, this skill may serve me well.  But to be frank, I don't ever want to be in that position because the rest of me so desperately wants to recognize the humanness of people.

The real problem comes with people who don't get out so easily and their mistakes are unforgettable.  It comes with people I hold in my heart.  The people I thought I would do anything for.  The people I pray for, fast for, cry for.  The people I laugh with and go to, with the good and the bad news of life.  They are my friends and my family and my confidantes.  They consist of God and my Savior and myself.

And if I'm going to be brutally honest, everyone keeps striking out.  I'm standing, frustrated and sobbing on the pitcher mound, wondering why the home plate is empty.  I'm wondering where my home team is.  I'm wondering why I almost have a panic attack in the parking lot, with no one asking me if I'm ok.  I'm wondering why I'm walking across the HFAC patio, with no one to turn to for advice.  I wonder why I'm running by myself, with no one to keep pace, and in more ways than one, I'm running away from everyone.  I'm wondering why I don't have cookies on my porch, text messages on my phone, and cards in my mailbox.  I'm wondering why I'm walking to church by myself, again.  I'm wondering why there is so much hurt, with no one around to give me a bandaid.

Because no one seems to win in Elise's baseball league.  People keep striking out, again and again.  Even when I feel like I've given more than easy pitches or more than just three outs.  I lob a text message over the plate, send multiple prayers their way, and seem to always write the first thank you note.

Today I was yelling to God, why did everyone leave me?  Why do I feel so much like collateral damage?  Why is it that I thought people who would be in the foxhole with me are happily trotting to safety, leaving me behind?

And part of me is disgusted I'm even articulating this, but the other part of me is still hurt, and a smaller part of me is still asking in a hurt voice, why?

I don't know why.  I don't know why forgiving is so hard.  I don't know why I still hurt.  I don't know why I have happily been adding to my 'People I need to Forgive' list, when in reality it becomes a 'Look how many people have hurt Elise' list.

And in all of the irony, I'm asking for forgiveness.  I'm sorry for everyone on my home team, when I didn't notice the prayers.  I'm sorry when I ignored your cries for help.  I'm sorry when my homework became more important than your soul.  I'm sorry for the times I lied when I said I was happy for you, I wish I could take it back and be genuine.  I'm sorry for not being on the phone, when you truly, really needed me.  I'm sorry for bringing you my heap of hurt, and glaring at you, wondering why you aren't taking it away.  I'm sorry for having my own life so close to my face, that I literally couldn't see anything else other than cancelled time and another reason for me to cry alone in my car.

I'm not any better at forgiving or letting everyone retire from this gladiator-like baseball game I've created.

But I really want to be. I really, truly, honestly want to be.  My hand aches from keeping score and gripping too hard on past plays that should have fixed it.

And this is me saying I'm sorry for blaming everyone else for my pain, when it was really me who should have been apologizing for not looking past it.  Thanks for still sticking with me, to all of those people on my home team.  Even when I've been an absolute beast of a pitcher on the mound.

I'm trying to change the rules of the game.  And that's all I got.

xo. Elise

Half-Baked

A little starved for conversation over here, thank you very much, thus a stream of consciousness is coming your way.

I got back from a weekend in New York, and I decided I was ready to go home.  Not because I wanted to retreat back to my parents house (hello, what I've been wanting to do all summer), but because I was ready to live real life again.  This past weekend I was with people doing similar things, believed similar things, there were guys I could date.  It made me miss BYU fiercely, something that I haven't necessarily done in a while.  It made me miss being in college, while at the same time freaking me out about the future.  I'm scared that next semester will be hard in a way last semester was.  I'm scared about post-grad.  If BYU is so much fun and working full-time is so not as fun, then what?  Fears regardless, I was thinking, yep, very ready to go home.  I've been here for 5 weeks (and please, no one say, wow 5 weeks already that's gone so fast!  Every day has been felt, people).  And that's halfway and I'm thinking COOL.  This adventure has been good.  I've forgiven people, gotten some distance from last semester, I'm ready to go back.

In the wise part of my heart, I know that I would be going home only halfway done.  I wouldn't be done with this summer.  I feel a little silly typing this because so many other people have internships, and there is no way that a summer job means this much, right?  But, I can't help but feel like this summer is so very purposeful.  And not just 5 weeks purposeful but the whole freaking 10 weeks purposeful.  I came back from this weekend where I actually had friends and wondered why I was here...where I have some casual lunch buddies.

And I couldn't help but feel that I need this time to be by myself.  I'm not sure why, but that feeling is there.  I need to be here to give myself some space.  I need to give my brain and my heart some time to think about where I was going and what I want.  There have been so many surprising thoughts since moving out here.  There have been a lot of ideas that I didn't consider possible.  There have been feelings and emotions and shifts that I know need to happen.

And even though an internship may be happening to a lot of other people, only one internship is happening in PA to a girl from UT.  And God is the most purposeful Being I know of.  And if I feel like this is an important and critical place in my life, that it most certainly is.

So, I'm not going to buy a plane ticket home.  I'm not going to runaway to New York or Iceland or Utah.  I'll stay here for 26 more working days and 37 normal days (psh I mean who is even counting 🙋🏻)

Xo. Elise

Able to Breathe

I once heard of someone wanting to be a bear because you eat your body weight and sleep it off in hibernation.  Eating + sleeping through winter sometimes sounds like the best plan.  As this winter came to a close,  I was especially thinking about being able to sleep past this past season. 

Things have been getting better, slowly but surely.  I contribute it to a lot of things.  I cut my hair.  I realized I need to forgive.  I started understanding things at work.  I feel like I was really starting to turn a corner.  

And then this past weekend I went to New York, and oh my gosh, I felt like I was finally seeing sunlight again.  

A few weeks ago in church, someone shared this pure joy they felt and gratitude in God and the blessings they had received.  I have been blessed to have that feeling so many times, but when she mentioned it, I couldn't really remember the last time I had felt that.  It had been so long, and I missed it.  

And then this Sunday, I felt it completely overwhelm me.  Just gratitude.  

And when I felt that, I was convinced that things were good again.  I was surprised to realize it comes and goes, and some moments are still hard and lonely and full of grief.  But there are so many more moments that I feel at peace. 

It feels like I am now able to breathe.  The hope that I had tried so hard to gather around me was finally being manifested.  

And wow, I am so grateful for that overwhelming ability to breathe....

xo. Elise

Every day.

There would be many times I would be packing my laptop in my backpack, changing back into jeans, and throwing on a jacket, getting ready to leave the house.  I would look at my roommate and say one thing every day that scares me.  She would always reply that she was proud of me and we would kind of nod in solidarity for that one thing every day.

Do one thing every day that scares you.  -Eleanor Roosevelt

I don't know if I am braver than the average person or if I have a lot more fears than the average person, but I seem to reach this quota a lot more than I want to.

But I'm still scared a lot.  Yet I somehow keep making it through all of the scary things.  And I'm going to be honest, I'm really proud of that.

In the past week I've....
- Started studying for the LSAT
- Went strawberry picking (by myself)
- Went to a new ward by myself
- Sent an inquiry about publishing in a magazine
- Talked with a recruiter for a full-time position
- Bought a ticket to go to NYC
- Reached out to someone for a favor

These all seem like small things that don't require courage, but looking at the list I'm really proud of myself.  I'm feeling a little more trepidation these days, in a lot of areas of life.  But I'm really doing it.  I'm creating a life and working towards a better life, wherever that leads me.  And that's something worth doing every day.

xo. Elise

Alone, but not Abandoned

The past few months have been difficult for reasons that have been hard for me to articulate.  I have tried to explain it to a lot of different people in a lot of different ways, but it's been hard to get a grasp on it and explain why.  Which, therein lies one of the issues.

The past few months, I have felt alone.  Really alone.  The type of being alone that makes my heart hurt.  For one reason or another, it's been just me.  Walking into a function, by myself.  Ordering food to-go, by myself.  Trying to make plans for the next year, by myself.   And it's hard to explain why something hurts when no one knows exactly what is hurting.

And it wasn't just the big things that I felt alone, but it was the day to day things.  I was expecting to see a whole group of people supporting me when I stumbled.  And instead, I found myself tripping by myself.  Again and again until it was freaking Groundhog day.

I was worried that I would lose God when I came out to Pennsylvania.  I was worried about losing myself.

And I think that's where I need to articulate the difference between being alone and being abandoned.  Because I was, and am, very much alone.  But I am not abandoned.

And I've been trying to find a way to convey exactly how I feel about this subject, but frankly it's too hard.  It's too full of justification for people that don't get it or who will try to make it better, even when they aren't members of the audience and will never see this.  On some level, it's too sacred for me to share why.

But there is a big difference between being alone and being abandoned and that distinction is important.

On Today's Round... *applause*

Today I realized that I have started playing the game of comparing blessings.

I wouldn't recommend this game because you usually lose.  Sometimes in the short run, you win i.e. traveling the world for five weeks.  But in the long run, you lose because eventually you come home and real life starts and you realize that your short run on top of the comparing blessings game came to a close.

But in today's round of *Compare your Blessings,* it felt like I lost.  I was so grateful that my prayers were answered and the work day went quickly.  So grateful because I couldn't have done another day like yesterday.

But then you compare my blessing of a quick work day with someone else celebrating their one month wedding anniversary, and I seem to come up lacking.

And it's interesting to me that Heavenly Father looks down at this thought process in surprise.  I know He's intrigued with how I feel an incessant and compulsive need to measure everything.  I am sure it's a strange concept to Him why I insist on comparing my life story with someone else's life story.

But I do and here I am, leaving the game wondering why I seem to be the loser.

And you know?  I'm grateful for the tiny wins that I have daily, even if it seems like I'm losing the round.  Those tender mercies sustain me and I need that sustenance.

Meant to Be

I dislike labels and limiting myself, but I have to admit that I am quite an introvert.  I am totally fine with cruising around Valley Forge by myself and finding the ice cream shop everyone recommended (which wasn't actually that good).  

After church and after the activity today, I had to sit in my car for a half an hour afterwards to give myself some time to breathe. Just some time to recover from telling my story over and over again, by myself.  

As I was leaving, I said goodbye and thank you to the bishop's wife.  I had had a nice chat with her and wanted to let her know I was leaving.  

She exclaimed it was so nice to meet me, and "I was meant to be here," she could just feel it.  

And I left the party (to sit in the Target parking lot and then buying shoes to help my poor bleeding foot), wondering what she meant by that.  There are so many hard aspects to this stage, and I am confused when people say it was meant to be.  What does that mean?  What does it mean something is meant to be?  Does that mean goods things are coming?  If so, when?  And how does it work?  Is it, oh I will feel comfortable with stuff?   Will the purpose behind this internship make sense to me in the present or is it a long-term investment?  

Or maybe it was just something she said to me in passing, as I left to go buy bandaids with the new shoes.  

In any case, I felt a small tendril of hope as I drove around the green hills of Valley Forge, essentially refusing to go to any of the historic stops, but just enjoying the drive.  And the used bookstore where they threw in Little Men for free with my $1 of Little Women because they couldn't bear to see them separated.  

xo. Elise 

Purgatory

I joked with my parents that sometimes Pennsylvania feels like my very own personal purgatory.  Looking back, it's a little weird how many times I've been here for various reasons.  Family vacation, a high school scholarship contest, my first internship.  The commitment continues to get longer, and now I'm here for 10 weeks (just recounted on the calendar and it is only 10 weeks!!!!!!).

The first definition that pops up when you look up purgatory is "a place or state of suffering inhabited by the souls of sinners who are expiating their sins before going to heaven."

Chuckled over that one, going to be honest.

The second definition is "having the quality of cleansing or purifying."

Ok, that's better.  

I was driving back from church today and was reflecting on what I learned.  I'm trying to do a better job of being conscious about what I'm learning, whether it's in church or in scripture study.  I don't really remember much about the talks.  Or the lessons.  Or really anything other than the fact that I was fully aware I had a deer in the headlights look on my face, with the humidity curling my hair, and my dress that I wondered if it looked 'too Utah', you know?

And I realized I didn't necessarily learn anything, but going to church today was a huge, "hey Heavenly Father I don't know why I seem to be stuck in purgatory (see def 2), but I'm here, and to be honest, that's all I got."

I guess I do remember one thing someone said today, and that was in order to grow faith, we need to exercise faith.

I have always wanted to be someone who just *has* faith.  Someone who wakes up in the morning and has the strength and vitality of someone who believes in the good.  I don't know if I am ruled by fear or by certainty, but faith has always seemed to be a hill I keep climbing.

And now, sitting in my dorm room that smells like wet dog from the rain and the mini-fridge that doesn't hold enough strawberries, this whole 10 week commitment seems like too much.  This is usually where I would supply a qualifier about how I have the perspective that things are going to get better, and I can't judge a summer based off of three days.  But those things are usually said to justify my complaining and acknowledge that life isn't actually as bad as it sometimes feels when you're perched in a dorm room that still smells like wet dog.

But qualifier regardless, this is a hard time.  And it's been a hard season for a while.  And it's difficult to be in a place where going home is hard and staying here is hard.

And regardless of how the next 68 day turn out, I am starting from a place where this is really just an offering of faith to my Heavenly Father.  I have so many good hopes and dreams that I want for my future, and let me tell you, when you're in a hard place, it's difficult to have faith that any of those will come into fruition.

In a lot of ways, I kind of like the first definition and that PA is the place to be right before heaven in my life.   But even if heaven isn't coming my way, I'm still looking up.  And I'm still expecting good things to come.

xo. Elise

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

Manna

I keep looking around, expecting a parting of the Red Sea.  Something large and obvious and beautiful.  Something that can only be described as a win--pure, unadulterated win with no strings attached.

Yet, instead I find myself finding manna.  And not even an abundance of manna, but some days I literally feel like I'm scrounging for manna.  It seems to be barely enough to sustain me day to day, and it seems like there are many days that I go to bed, still wanting more.

And sometimes I want to yell, but where is my Red Sea?  Where is the blessing that engulfs me and makes the last few months of scrounging worth it?

Yet, nothing seems to be coming.  And I'm learning, not necessarily to stop wishing for the Red Sea or to stop wishing that I could have some more manna, but I'm learning to be purposeful in my gratitude.  I'm learning to take a moment to expand my lungs and recognize the scant amount of manna that is available.

And today that manna consisted of a Diet Coke, a slide deck that is coming together, and a guy with blue eyes.

My daily ration is enough to make to until tomorrow, with my hope still intact for that Red Sea.

xo. Elise

In Between

I have a firm belief that good people continue to come into our lives.  I believe that God has a whole lineup of good people and He just keeps sending them, one after the other.  Over and over again.

I say this as someone who is extremely used to saying goodbye to the good people in her life.  It started right after high school graduation, and it hasn't stopped.  And I keep having seasons in my life where I think, wait, I thought saying goodbye was done.  I thought I was finished with that whole process.

But I am learning, nope it's not over.  Goodbyes always seem to happen too soon.  And as I was crying over the most recent goodbye today, I told my sister that I'm going to be fine.  Because God keeps sending good people.

And she said, "So it's just in between a good person and future good people?"

Yep.  In between is exactly how it is.  And that was a good reminder for me.  Good people come, but it definitely is in between right now.

xo. Elise