Here's to You: #2

"Was that your bf on the phone?"
"No. That was my uncle."
"Oh. Do you have a bf?"
"Uhh, Nope. Why do you ask?"
"Oh. Just wondering."

That's the first conversation we had. I'm not even kidding. He said "BF."

"Why is your hair two different colors?"
"Well, I dyed it. And now the dye is growing out."
"When are you going to cut your hair?"
"Uhh...I don't know."

That was another conversation we had. He seriously asked me why my hair was two different colors.

Now, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad that he even talked to me. Or acknowledged my existence. I mean, I was the new kid to band, I knew barely anyone in marching band, and I had to sit next to him in concert band...every day.
Now, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think he was kind of awkward. Okay, maybe I was a little bit too...I was the new kid, I was feeling out my surroundings, and I didn't want to say anything stupid or whatever.
Now, I'd be lying if I said that he was like anyone I've ever met, or that based off those first several encounters, we'd be as close as we are today.

He drives me crazy.
I mean that in the best way possible.
He is so competitive. So. Competitive. Especially with me.
2009 National Championship: Florida vs. Oklahoma. We talked trash. We made a bet. Needless to say, I got dinner and a movie.
We played soccer. It resulted in a bloody leg. I have a scar to prove it.
He talks so much trash.
He argues so much.
It's not a bad thing, really. I argue as much as he does. And for some reason, we get some sick satisfaction from instigating each other.
No really, he knows EXACTLY what to say to provoke me. (and vise versa)
Usually it has to do with sports.
He know's SO MUCH about sports.
It's cool though. I know if I say, "OMG DUKE WAS UPSET," he'll know exactly what I'm talking about.
But he never let's me win. Or admits he's wrong. And forget him telling me I'm right.
Drives. Me. Crazy.
It's okay though...I'm the same way with him.
I'd like to say I know him extremely well. I mean. I do know him extremely well.
But he's like a rubik's cube. I think I've got him figured out, and then I'm totally confused again. And it drives me crazy.
He knows me very well though.
He knows what I'm going to throw in an hour long game of Rock, Paper, Scissors, Slap. Which resulted in my left hand being swollen to the point that I couldn't play the piano. (Again. Competitiveness...)
And he knows when I'm upset about something, even when I don't want to admit it.
And he knows, or at least tries, to make me feel better all the time.
Because he's the most hilarious kid I know.
Even if he talks about poop all the time. Okay, not all of the time.
Although, we did sit in Sam's Club one day talking about farts.
But he does always make me smile. And he cracks me up.
He's the right amount of sarcastic. And refreshingly witty.
It isn't always rainbows and butterflies though.
Sometimes we get mad at each other.
Drives me crazy.
But we get over it. And everything is back to normal.
And even when our friends were in World War III with each other, we somehow weren't.
Sometimes he's a douchebag though.
Drives me crazy.
Actually. He's usually the right amount of douchebag...at least in my opinion.
Anyway, I think we might have set the record of the longest conversations ever on facebook chat.
One night, we were talking till 5 am. We had jazz band that morning. Yeah, neither of us went.
Sitting in his car, talking on the phone, texting, facebook chat, skype...talking to him just never gets old.
We originated the Question Game and we even created rules.
Really, I could write a novel about us.
I could talk about when he jumped in the pool in Florida with his phone in his pocket. Or how we spent 3rd quarters together in the stands every football game. Or his church ball games. Or how we texted each other rap verses. Or when we would walk to the spot after 1st hour. Or when we didn't pay attention at all during graduation because we were too busy taking pictures and talking.
I could talk about the time we floated down the Salt River and he tried pushing me off the air mattress. Or when we climbed A mountain one night. Or the times we hit the gym. Or when we played 1 v 1 bball and I beat him...once.
I could talk about all the time we spent this year during POA band season. Every day for lunch and dinner during band camp. Walking around after football games. Driving back from Homecoming at 3 am. Being bus buddies for the bowl trip. Buying t-shirts at the mall in El Paso.
I could talk about lunches at Barro's. Or ordering the same Vito, no tomatoes, sweet peppers, and a Cherry Coke, at Jimmy John's...always. Or baking brownies. Or my mom making him eat a ridiculous amount of pasta. Or when he put on an apron and made me corn dogs. Or how much he loves the cakes I bake. Or how he eats tons of Thin mints at 2 am.
I could talk about the time he came swimming when I was babysitting 5 kids. And the 5year old girl totally fell in love with him. And then all the kids begged me to invite him for dinner because they liked him so much.
I could talk about when we bought sneakers. Or when we watched Seven. Or when we ordered at Carls Jr. then backed out of the drive thru. Or when he did that at Taco Bell because he forgot his wallet.
Most importantly, I could talk about how far we've come since those awkward conversations. How comfortable I am with him. How goofy we are. How he drives me crazy, but how I couldn't imagine life without him.
So, here's to you!
Salud.

Here's to you: #1

So I decided that I would start dedicating my posts to people, occasionally that is. And by that, I mean, blogging about someone significant in my life, because I feel like it's the least I can do to show my appreciation for whatever they do for me. I'm calling it, "Here's to You." (Kind of like giving someone a toast. Just on a blog. Through writing.)
Here's the catch.
I'm not naming names.
I don't want it to be some sort of advertisement, and some sort of competition/controversy of who's name is on the blog, but rather, I want to explain the impact these people have on me, and publicize the awesome people I'm lucky to have in my life.
So, enjoy!

Over the years I've had many friends. Some closer than others. Like, way closer than others. But not all of those friendships have lasted. And that's okay. Really. Because from every single one of those friendships, I've learned lessons. I honestly don't regret any of them.
But I'm not here to talk about the friends I've lost.
I'm here to talk about the one friend I've kept since sophomore year.
I moved at the end of October my sophomore year.
It was the roughest year of my life.
But I'm not here to talk about the roughest year of my life.
I'm here to talk about the kid in my Spanish and Block classes.
The kid who called me "Florida."
Who made fun of me for writing, "Fresh to death, THUG LIFE 727," all over my stuff. (I seriously hated Arizona, sorry.)
The kid who originated (yes it was this kid) the name, Sca-Harlot. (He was making up raps, I told him the only word that rhymed with Scarlett was harlot. Mistake? maybe.)
I was searching for a picture today, and I came across some from sophomore year.
There I found pictures of the kid who befriended me when I was the Negative-Nancy-New-Girl.
The kid who might be more competitive than me.
Put us together and we'll own you in a debate. About stem cell research, specifically. (Don't play Risk with him though. He's over the top then.)
There was a solid year that I barely hung out, let alone talked, to this kid.
Then we had seminary together 2nd semester senior year.
It's like nothing ever changed.
This is the kid I would trust with my life.
The kid gives the best advice, I assure you.
"Fake it till you make it."
And even if he goes to another school, we have the best catch up seshes. At my house. Til 2 am. During winter break, specifically.
And this kid knows how to have a good time.
Specifically for my birthday. Dancing. Hard.
Or conquering mountains. Or floating down rivers. Or pool hopping.
And I know this kid has my back. Always.
I feel like I just don't give this kid enough credit for how awesome he is.
At the end of it all though, this kid is someone I know I might not see every day, or talk to every week...but I always know he'll be there when I need him most. Especially when I want to have a good time. (Involving, but not limited to: pudding, toilet paper, Bahama bucks, and the Boondocks)
So, here's to you!
Salud.

Okay, seriously, I'm on a roll with keeping this updated...

You know how sometimes you just have a great day?
Yeah, that was today for me.
I mean, it wasn't anything extraordinary...
My life doesn't suck, I do have other good days...
But today just felt exceptionally great!
It could be due to the fact that I'm coming off of a Monday being super stressed, feeling burdened with decisions, and drowning myself in a Weather and Climates test (Whoa now, don't underestimate that class. That test was way harder than I expected.)And then coming off a Tuesday being sleep deprived due to the previous night's cram sesh, and having to take said exam, AND having class all day. (No really. I have a 5:30-8 pm class on Tuesdays)
Anyway...I'm sitting here, trying to figure out why today was so great.

Maybe it was being able to sleep in, because I didn't have class until 11.
Maybe it was not waking up to my alarm, but to a text saying, "Good Morning!" from one of my favorite people in the world. Because a "good morning" text from the right person ALWAYS makes my mornings better.
Or maybe, it was sitting in class re-reading my syllabus', and realizing that on the Friday before spring break, one of my classes is cancelled, and the other, I realized doesn't have an exam in...so I can miss...thus...starting my spring break a DAY EARLY.
Maybe it was finally sightreading the piano arrangement of "I Stand All Amazed" that I've been obsessing over for the past couple weeks. And maybe it was the sweet girls who told me how impressed they were at how great it sounded...even though I was just sightreading.
It could maybe be the fact that I went to institute. Mayyyyyybeeeeee.
Maybe, perhaps, possibly, it was lunch with Al my pal. Because I was cracking up so hard, as usual. I don't even remember why. Regardless. So much good.
...Or it was maybe the fact that I fiiiinallyyyyy got my memory card back from him. Loaded with 250 songs. Ohhh yah.
Maybe though, it was going to my first kickboxing class with Olivia. Which was SO TIGHT. And I didn't even look as pathetic as I thought I would. The teacher complimented me. What?!
Oh, maybe it was Florida beating South Carolina. And Nova was upset. Yeah, I went there.
Maybe it was not only finding mail in my mail box, but having it be a certificate congratulating me on making the Dean's List. Shucks, thanks.
But maybe, it was just appreciating the little things, not worrying too much, and enjoying the now. After all, life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass...it's about learning how to dance in the rain.

When you wish upon a clock.

Confession: I'm an avid 11:11 wisher.
Yeah, some people claim they wish on 11:11. Whatever.
I go so far as to follow the rules of 11:11 wishing...Which are as follows:
1. Don't say what you wished for. EVER. Or else it won't come true. Go ahead. Ask me what I wished for. I dare you to. Many have tried. All have failed. I'm not telling you my wish. I'm not playing around with this.
2. Don't sit around waiting at 11:10 watching the clock for 11:11 to happen. That's like cheating. It's like babysitting the base in tag. Or goaltending in basketball. Whatever, just don't do it.
3. If someone tells you it's 11:11 and to make a wish...then freaking do it! Jeez. Consider yourself lucky for having someone care to share the opportunity to make a wish with you.
4. If you are within sight of a clock, it's always helpful (but not always necessary) to kiss the clock. For extra luck. And who doesn't want extra luck?
So I realize this kind of makes me crazy. But I have reason to be!
In 10th grade, a dear friend of mine made me a "wish bracelet." She said to make a wish when I put it on, and when it fell off...the said wish would come true. At this time, we had just moved to Arizona, and were living with my aunt. I wished to find our own house. My bracelet fell off in February. The Friday after it fell...we moved into the house we live in now.
WHAT. Yeah.
Ever since then...I've believed in wishes.
Okay. Maybe that whole thing was sheer coincidence.
Maybe the bracelet fell off because I had showered and swam with it...for several months. Maybe it was just it's time.
That very well could be.
But that doesn't stop my believing in 11:11.
Wishes give us hope. We've been taught to wish since we were little, each year blowing out our birthday candles..."MAKE A WISH!"
It gives us hope that although our dreams and aspirations may be a bit far fetched, there's a slim chance that it might just happen. It might just come true.
I'll confess that my 11:11 wishes are typically the same. Or some derivative of the same wish. I have this wished tucked away in my brain, and as soon as I see that it's 11:11, I wish it. And you know what? It will come true. Or maybe it won't, it's really not entirely under my control. But it keeps me motivated. It gives me hope. What's life without a little something we want to pursue, or achieve, or fulfill to keep us motivated, and to keep us from living without a purpose? And who's to say my wish, or anyone's for that matter, could NEVER EVER be granted?
Anyway, I'm going to keep on wishing.
Because it can't hurt.

"19 is the new 35"

I hate that I don't blog as much as I should.

And I hate that when I do blog...or crave it...it's when I'm procrastinating something.

Anyway, now that I'm here, let me cut to the chase.

I turned 19 on Sunday! AHH.

I have to say though, this was my favorite birthday ever. And I've had some pretty great birthdays.

Like my Quinceanera:

Or this super cool (3rd?) birthday party at Chuck-e-Cheese:

Or my 1st birthday, where I obviously developed my love for cake:

But really. Over the years I've had some good times. And I've had some bad. (cough, last year, cough) But this year. Was just great. For some reason, I had this fear, that no one would remember my birthday...that I'd just sit in my dorm all day Sunday and have my own little party watching football or something.

Didn't happen.

Basically, I had SO much fun with some of my best friends. Had 2 birthday dinners. Capitalized on as much free stuff as I possibly could. There wasn't really a dull moment.

And even though I wasn't at home, my family made it just as great. They made me videos and sent me cards, which meant just as much as anything else I could've done at home.

My mom, though, made me a video that made my cry like a baby. Like, I'm tearing up just thinking about it. She scanned a bunch of my baby pictures, and compiled it into a slideshow that went to an acoustic version of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. So then I started to feel really really old. Which yeah, I know, I'm not old at all, really.

But here's what freaks me out:

People my age get married.

What.

Yeah, okay, so it's typically mostly only in the Mormon culture. Aka Mesa/Utah. But still. Even 20, 21, girls get married.

"19 is the new 35. You're in your PRIME!"

Um. How can someone like me get married? That's what old people do. Well. Not old people. But people who got married were always so old compared to me. One of my dear friends is engaged. She's a year younger than me.

Uhhhhhh.

There's no turning back now. It's full speed ahead. I have to be responsible from now until forever. From now until forever I have to worry about jobs, and money, and housing. Grown up stuff.

GROWN UP STUFF.

I shouldn't have to worry about that. Can't I just party at Chuck-e-cheese some more?

I need to stop. There's no point trying to grow up too fast.

For now, I'm just going to enjoy my youth while I still can. That means drinking too many energy drinks, listening to music incredibly loud, and eating more sweets than is medically acceptable.

So here's to being 19:

2011>2010

Top 10 Lessons Learned in 2010.

10. Krispy Kreme donuts are made for consumption...not for throwing out the windows of cars.
9. You can sleep when you die. It is very possible to run on very minimal amounts of sleep. ...Even on Game Days.
8. Procrastination works!! Although, it can be quite painful at times.
7. Some battles aren't worth fighting. Because as much as you want to win...you probably never will. Thus, stop wasting your time, efforts, and emotions and divert them to battles that you do have a fighting chance in.
6. Never throw snowballs without gloves on. NEVER.
5. When you find someone you can trust...hold on to them. These days, they are very hard to come across.
4. Hard work pays off. So don't quit.
3. Burning bridges is necessary sometimes, as difficult as it is. But some best friends will always be there...despite adversity.
2. Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or of the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.
1. Family is always going to be there. Through moving away. Through losing best friends. No matter what. So if you don't like your family...get over it.

About time!

I used to be so excited to update my blog.
...And then I started college.
I mean, it's not that I'm not excited anymore, it's just a severe lack of time.
And I feel like I should probably be documenting everything that's happening. That I should've kept this updated to document the up's and down's and truly reflect the whole college experience. I mean, this is a pretty huge change right? This is a pretty significant part in my life. I probably should've expressed my feelings or something. I probably should've talked about the things on my mind, the concerns, the fears, all of that.

But quite frankly, I'm glad I didn't.

Truth: College sucked. (Past tense. Don't start worrying about me too much.)
I really don't want to get into specifics as to why it sucked, because I try to put the past behind me. I think I had a severe case of homesickness...something I didn't think would hit me too hard. But honestly, no matter how mature you think you are, no matter how much you've convinced yourself that you'll be fine, no matter how ready for college you think you are...you're not. I missed little things. I missed getting in a car and driving wherever I wanted because I knew where everything was. I missed walking into the pantry to grab a snack. I missed my dog, for goodness sake! And of course, I missed my family, my brother, especially.
College wasn't as easy as a transition as I imagined. For some reason I had it all blown up in my mind, glorified to be something awesome, that I'd instantly make tons and tons of friends and we'd hang out all the time and it was just going to be super awesome.
Well as it turns out, that's not the way it works, exactly. My dorm, Coronado, really is all it's cracked up to be. Bros and sorority hos. I'm pretty sure they broke the record for highest number of MIP's in one dorm...on the first weekend. And then there was marching band. Band camp was literally hell. Literally. I mean, it was over 100 degrees outside. It was so incredibly time consuming, because if I wasn't practicing, I was exhausted FROM practicing. And of course, I was a rookie again...I forgot what it was like to be at the bottom, and not know anyone, and have no one know you.

So after the first month or so I started thinking to myself, "Is any of this worth it?" I was so incredibly unhappy. I mean, there were definitely some good times, I definitely did have fun, but in the overall scheme of things, was I happy here in Tucson, did I belong here?

Oh, and then I started to question my major. MY MAJOR. Seriously? I love journalism. I was so ridiculously set on being a sports broadcaster, how could I question that. I'm taking a Principles of Journalism class and in the first classes my professor showed us statistics, about how many of us will actually change majors. How few of us will actually work in the field we want (aka sports broadcasting). How competitive the field is. How it's a dying profession. How so many people who graduate with a journalism degree, simply can't find jobs. Just super disheartening stuff.

Anyway, I re-evaluated myself and my situation. After talking a lot with my best friend in the whole wide world, I highly considered a transfer to BYU-Provo, something I have always always ALWAYS been against. (I realized that it would be a lot harder to transfer than I realized, first year transfer students don't qualify for scholarships, whaaat.) So after that was out of the question, and after a lot of conversations with my best friends (I really didn't want to tell anyone about my doubts, so I actually held it in for a while. I mean, I didn't even want to tell my family because I didn't want them to worry about me.) I realized that my attitude needed to change. Deep down, I knew things would work out...that's just the way it is. We're not given more challenges than we can handle, right? But I needed to be more positive. And that was my goal for September. If I was going to be here, I might as well enjoy myself and stop worrying...because things will fall into place.

So September.
I think things really started to lighten up when my family came down for Labor day. They were literally here for a day, but that was definitely the pick-me-up I needed. Having a pasta-fest with them at Olive Garden, catching up with my brother at the mall. Yeah, I needed that.
And from then on...things just kept getting better! I've been really successful in all of my classes, which has made me extremely happy. Band has become much much MUCH more enjoyable. (probably because I'm just so immune to pain now...) Football games are actually quite fun, and it's so great to walk to my dorm after games and have people literally applaud me because they're so impressed. (yeah, so much for band kids being losers, we're like frickin celebrities) Oh! And (this is such a cool story) I met a super awesome girl named Olivia in my ward. Who turns out, grew up around the same part of Florida I did, and who's sister is in the same ward I was in when I lived in Florida? Yeah suuuuuper crazy small world! Anyway, we've been having great times with Fat Fridays, Jersey Shore nights, fist pumping like champs, hitting the gym, and just having great adventures.

There's definitely significant people who really kept me going, who I really truly appreciate a lot, and they probably don't know it.

Like, my family, for just caring so much.

And Mary. Who skypes with me all the time. No really. ALL the time. Whenever either of us has a bad day, we can call each other in a second and we know exactly what each other is going through. I'm just seriously so grateful to have a friend like her, that even if we've moved forever away from each other, we've still grown so close to each other, since we were babies.

And Alan. Without this kid, I probably would've died in band. Probably. He know's when I'm upset even when I don't talk about it, therefore he cheers me up 99% of the time.

And Karissa, Alec, and Alisha. Because they listen, they're on my side, and they make me laugh. And they're really wise. All of them, in their own way. They are definitely way more mature than they should be, and I love that so much.

Truth: I love college.
I may have had a rough start, I may have had some unexpected changes, I may have had experiences that I definitely didn't anticipate, but I'm really happy where I'm at now.
Sure, there could be aspects of my life I wish were better, it is very possible to be happiER, but I'm content.
...And I know this is where I'm supposed to be.