Utah has sucked me dry. Not only am I constantly thirsty and constantly reapplying lotion but it seems too, at least lately, that the ink of my pen on the pages of my journal is as sparse as rain in the Atacama dessert. My thoughts are scrambled and the right words elude me, which, for me at least, is a rare phenomenon.
College seems like such an ordinary part of life that I feel as though I am left with little subject matter.
Or perhaps the problem is that when there is something extraordinary, I just don't have words to describe it.
I'm just clean out of words. And so I'm left with the impossible task of writing what there are no words for.
There are few words to describe goodness besides perhaps good, but that's repetitive.
Similarly, there are few words to describe the way I felt on Friday night. I came home and turned on Taylor Swift, and even she fell short - but I sang my heart out anyway. I was packed full of that uncontainable joy that that seems bent on declaring to the world -- or, in my case, to the white walls of my dorm room and to my only audience, Lorrence and Fish, my two stuffed animals -- how incredibly happy you are. It was ten thirty or so; most nights I'd be getting ready for bed, but getting me to sleep that night was about as likely as getting a toddler to put away his toys after Christmas.
Friday night was my "date" with Tyler.
Of course, having panned to do my laundry on Saturday, I was left with nothing but a couple t-shirts, but my sister came to the rescue. She loaned me a shirt and some earrings, and so, feeling pretty darn cute in a striped pink and white shirt, dark blue jeans with faded knees, my hair having formed itself into perfect little ringlets to partially cover my pearl earrings that in technicality didn't match, I stood outside my apartment under the "sketchy lamppost" and waited for Tyler.
We walked up to the on-campus movie theater because neither of us had cars (though I prefer walking anyway) and talked the whole way.
It was my first time seeing Inside Out and I loved it. What a cute show!
After the movie, we went and got ice-cream, and upon my insisting, he let me pay. After all, he's already payed for our date next week to the dance concert. And, besides, ice cream was my idea.
We talked and ate our ice-cream as we meandered through campus and back to our apartments.
Which brings us back to where we started, with me dancing with my stuffed animals as I cleaned my room and jammed out to Taylor Swift's "Love Story", "Our Song" and "You Belong With Me."
When my roommates got home I was still too wound up to fall asleep so I joined them for a game of Apples to Apples.
Part way through, exhaustion hit me and so I switched places with my roommate, Katreena, who had come home more recently and had taken residence on the couch to watch.
It was not a quiet game, and yet, the next thing I knew, it was well past midnight and Calli was waking me.
"I was going to let you sleep, but I didn't think you'd want to sleep in your clothes," she said, and offered me a hand up.
When I told my mom, she said, "You have good roommates." And she's right.
I love to go for runs at night. One night, as I was headed out the door, sweet Calli asked where I was headed.
"Just for a run," I told her.
She proceeded to inform me that Provo really isn't as safe as one would think.
"Would you like me to tell you when I'll be back?" I asked her.
She would. And so now, whenever I go on a night run, Calli knows when I'll be home.
And while there are some nights I regret being bound by my watch, it means a lot to know someone cares.
I really have been blessed. And, of course, it doesn't stop there.
Andrea seems to be the one who keeps it clean around here and though it may be done more out of annoyance than love, I like to believe it's the latter.
And I shan't forget when I came into the kitchen one Saturday morning to find her and her boyfriend, Tim, eating French Toast, Bacon, Strawberries, and Oranges.
"I don't think I can finish mine," Tim says, speaking of the two pieces of French Toast on his plate which I have no doubt he could have finished. "Grab a plate, Brooke."
"I don't think I can finish mine either," Andrea adds, dishing a piece from her plate along with the one from Tim.
Tim scrapes his last piece of bacon onto my plate along with some oranges and Andrea dishes me some strawberries. It was the best breakfast I'd had since leaving home.
Then there's Rachel Anderson who is sweet enough to play Nertz with me even though I always win, Alison who gives me rides to the grocery store, and Katreena who is so kind to slip in quietly when she comes in late every night even though she knows how hard it is to wake me.
There's Rachel from my Mandarin class who took the time to explain all of Marvel and the Avengers because she either pitied my ignorance or couldn't believe I could live without her number one obsession. I didn't so much care about them because I knew I'd never watch the movies, but the fact that she was the first to, upon hearing that I knew nothing of them, actually take the full hour to explain it to me, says something.
There's Great Uncle Allen and his family who invite me over for dinner on Sunday nights and there are Kylie and Josh who invite me over to make cookies and save me when I don't have enough quarters to finish my laundry.
Utah may have sucked me dry, but the people here are overflowing with goodness, and I've been blessed enough to take a drink. There are few words to describe goodness and there are few words to describe this past week. It's been crazy, it's been hard, it's been fun, and all-around, I'd say it's been pretty darn good.
Candidly,
Cookie
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Sunday, September 6, 2015
College Week One: Everything's Cooler in [Chinese] Characters
My first night in Provo I couldn't sleep. I was so excited to be back, but I was also apprehensive. This year is filled with so many unknowns and so many firsts. Most of my friends from last year are gone on missions or living far enough away that I won't see them often. I didn't know my roommates before moving in, and I couldn't really predict what my schedule would be like. When I'd tell people I was going to take Mandarin, they'd say something like, "Wow, Mandarin's hard." As if that didn't add to my apprehension . . .
My roommates were very kind but I quickly learned that they were seldom home. I was glad to be left to myself to unpack, but that night, when my roommates didn't return until long after I'd gone to bed, I was a little sad. And the following morning, since I was still on Eastern Time, despite a restless night, I was up by 4:45.
Not wanting to wake the apartment, I laced up my running shoes and went for a jog. The stars were breath-taking. I could see all the constellations I'd learned about in my senior-year astronomy class--Andromeda, Orion, the Big Dipper--they were all there, and absolutely beautiful. You don't see stars like that in Georgia.
I wandered up to campus and felt as though I was joined to it. The rosy-tan humanities building with its large front window and beautiful courtyard looked exquisite, and it felt like home.
But later that day wen the stars were shunned by the bright noon-sun and campus was buzzing with freshman walking their schedules, and everyone else walking along with their groups of friends, I suddenly felt like everyone was part of something I wasn't. A crowd isn't company; the more crowded campus got, the more alone I felt.
I came home to an empty apartment, had a bowl of cold cereal and watched the clock. Again, I couldn't sleep. Again, my roommate came in late, and again, I left before she awoke.
I was thinking things couldn't get much worse, and, for once, I was right.
They got better. Much better.
I still don't see my roommates all that much so I feel like I still don't really know them, but my first impression was that they would be quite easy to get along with and, fortunately, that impression has failed to change upon closer acquaintance. They are seriously the kindest people.
And though they're hardly home, now that school has started, neither am I.
The other day, I left at 7:00 A.M. and came home at 10:30 P.M. After classes, I'd met up at the library with a girl from my Chinese class, Rachel, to practice a new dialogue and review the characters for our homework. Now let me back up just a little to tell you about Rachel. On the second night of school I prayed that I would find a friend. The next day in Chinese class, I sit next to Rachel, with dark brown hair died dark red and slate-blue eyes, jeans and a red Ninja-turtles t-shirt. She's taken Chinese in high school so she's good with the characters and pretty good with pronunciation, both of which I could use some help on. I, on the other hand, am told I am quite good at the tones--something Rachel struggles with. We were given a dialogue to practice and Rachel and I finished quickly and began adding on with the little Chinese we had learned.
By the end of it, Rachel turns to me and says, "I think we're going to be good friends."
Now fast forward to last night. We ended up studying for over three hours and honestly, it was a blast!
Rachel taught me to text in Mandarin, which is honestly quite hilarious, because, given our limited vocabulary, our text messages translate to something like this:
"Hi. How are you?"
"I'm good. How are you?"
"I'm good."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
And somehow we get a kick out of this. Everything's cooler in Chinese characters.
Then we decide to go split a footlong sub because by now we haven't eaten in over five hours. The lady making our sandwiches asks, "Are you guys together?"
Rachel replies that we are.
"I meant the sandwich," the lady adds quickly. Uh-huh. Nice save.
We couldn't stop laughing.
Classes are going great. Honestly, I'm a little nervous about my class editing for the Prelaw Review Journal, but, all in all, things have gone better than I could have imagined.
Candidly,
Cookie
My roommates were very kind but I quickly learned that they were seldom home. I was glad to be left to myself to unpack, but that night, when my roommates didn't return until long after I'd gone to bed, I was a little sad. And the following morning, since I was still on Eastern Time, despite a restless night, I was up by 4:45.
Not wanting to wake the apartment, I laced up my running shoes and went for a jog. The stars were breath-taking. I could see all the constellations I'd learned about in my senior-year astronomy class--Andromeda, Orion, the Big Dipper--they were all there, and absolutely beautiful. You don't see stars like that in Georgia.
I wandered up to campus and felt as though I was joined to it. The rosy-tan humanities building with its large front window and beautiful courtyard looked exquisite, and it felt like home.
But later that day wen the stars were shunned by the bright noon-sun and campus was buzzing with freshman walking their schedules, and everyone else walking along with their groups of friends, I suddenly felt like everyone was part of something I wasn't. A crowd isn't company; the more crowded campus got, the more alone I felt.
I came home to an empty apartment, had a bowl of cold cereal and watched the clock. Again, I couldn't sleep. Again, my roommate came in late, and again, I left before she awoke.
I was thinking things couldn't get much worse, and, for once, I was right.
They got better. Much better.
I still don't see my roommates all that much so I feel like I still don't really know them, but my first impression was that they would be quite easy to get along with and, fortunately, that impression has failed to change upon closer acquaintance. They are seriously the kindest people.
And though they're hardly home, now that school has started, neither am I.
The other day, I left at 7:00 A.M. and came home at 10:30 P.M. After classes, I'd met up at the library with a girl from my Chinese class, Rachel, to practice a new dialogue and review the characters for our homework. Now let me back up just a little to tell you about Rachel. On the second night of school I prayed that I would find a friend. The next day in Chinese class, I sit next to Rachel, with dark brown hair died dark red and slate-blue eyes, jeans and a red Ninja-turtles t-shirt. She's taken Chinese in high school so she's good with the characters and pretty good with pronunciation, both of which I could use some help on. I, on the other hand, am told I am quite good at the tones--something Rachel struggles with. We were given a dialogue to practice and Rachel and I finished quickly and began adding on with the little Chinese we had learned.
By the end of it, Rachel turns to me and says, "I think we're going to be good friends."
Now fast forward to last night. We ended up studying for over three hours and honestly, it was a blast!
Rachel taught me to text in Mandarin, which is honestly quite hilarious, because, given our limited vocabulary, our text messages translate to something like this:
"Hi. How are you?"
"I'm good. How are you?"
"I'm good."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
And somehow we get a kick out of this. Everything's cooler in Chinese characters.
Then we decide to go split a footlong sub because by now we haven't eaten in over five hours. The lady making our sandwiches asks, "Are you guys together?"
Rachel replies that we are.
"I meant the sandwich," the lady adds quickly. Uh-huh. Nice save.
We couldn't stop laughing.
Classes are going great. Honestly, I'm a little nervous about my class editing for the Prelaw Review Journal, but, all in all, things have gone better than I could have imagined.
Candidly,
Cookie
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