In the "Nick" of time! (14)

Jess, Nancy, and I drove home from Meg's house after thanksgiving on Friday night. We started getting our things out of the car and were greeted by 3 guys who wanted to help us with our bags. That night, I learned two amazing lessons. Be willing to go with the flow, and open your mouth.

Firstly: going with the flow.

We could have said thanks to those guys and moved on and gone to sleep, or we could have put our things upstairs and hung out. We chose option two. In those three guys we met one guy from Sandy, UT, another one from England (whoop whoop! Jess and I were very happy) and then a third guy from Singapore and Hawaii. So the six of us played cards and got to know each other. I loved that we turned a dull night into a fun one where we met 3 new people!

The second lesson: open your mouth.

If those guys hadn't offered to help none of the above would have happened. But I also observed how important it is to open your mouth when Nick, the American one, saw a girl walk past to the vending machine and he said, "Come play cards with us!" To my surprise she said yes! And suddenly there were 7 of us! We would never have met Lillie if Nick never said anything.

We played cards and a quiz game, and then at 12:30 we went for a burger at In 'N' Out! Going with the flow is so fun. So now we have four new friends: Danny, Clinton (who we call Clifford), Nick, and Lillie.

Funny how if we were just a second earlier or later leaving Meg's house we would never have met them, and none of those events would have occurred last night. I don't believe in coincidences. I believe that a lesson is hidden in each encounter, and we can only learn it if we make the most of each situation.

So open your eyes, then open your mouth, and go with the flow!

First Ever Thanksgiving (13)

We got to spend Thanksgiving at Meg's house and it was such a yummy day. I think the American's make more food for thanksgiving than for Christmas! THERE WAS SO MUCH FOOD!

Here are some photos of our feast!

 Fabulous roommates looking swanky.

We worked out that there was half a pie PER PERSON. Isn't that just crazy? The food was so good (thanks Sister Kelly!) and we had the chance to talk about Christmas and traditions and our family. It definitely made me miss mine but I was also really grateful that I have a family. We slept then ate then slept then ate then slept. 

On Thanksgiving night we went to the cinema and we watched "The Theory of Everything". It was such an emotional movie and it made me count my blessings again!

So I just want to write a few things I'm thankful for at this time of year:

• I am so thankful for my Savior, Jesus Christ, who makes everything possible, comforts me when I am sad, and gives me reason to rejoice even if nothing else does.
• I am thankful for my family who always looks after me and who loves me so much. I love you guys!
• I am so thankful for friends, especially those who stick by you no matter the circumstances, who keep their promises and keep up a friendship despite the time differences and oceans between us.
• I am so thankful for food, clothing, a home. It all makes me grateful. The simple yet vital things.
• I am thankful for BYU, for the education it is giving me, for the friends I have found here. 

Happy thanksgiving everyone, and now that it's over we can get ready to say HAPPY CHRISTMAS :)

Learning from the Past: A Guide to the Future (My Personal Narrative Assignment) (12)

This last week and a bit we have been preparing a personal narrative as an assignment in my writing class and the final portion is to post it online. I feel a bit awkward about publishing my personal work I guess college is about getting out of your comfort zone. So here we go:

I’m in our silver Mercedes Benz, driving towards Dublin Airport. It’s a two-hour drive, so getting emotional really isn’t an option right now. You can’t cry for two hours – that would just be melodramatic. But that begs the question: at what stage is it okay to cry? I’m surprisingly in control of my emotions, which is a huge step up from where I was just a few years ago.

            When I was fourteen years old I attended my first youth conference. On the last day we had a testimony meeting. I was too shy to go up there to share how I felt about my beliefs because I was one of the youngest there, but I loved listening to the older boys and girls tell me how they felt about Jesus Christ. As I was listening, I found myself marveling at their surety. Why did they know so firmly what I didn’t? Their conviction filled me with admiration and made me emotional. It was the first time that I can remember crying because of the atmosphere and feelings I had. I felt my heart swelling and my eyes burn as my tears built up until they slowly dripped down my face, being too much for my eyes to hold. I would recognize that sensation in countless times to come. This was the moment when my emotions started to be hard to control.

            I can feel that sensation coming again as I look out at the green fields flying by at 70 miles per hour – and I’m smiling. Not because I am glad to have my eyes burn and my stomach clench, but because I am controlling it. No tears are breaking that barrier today. They can swim around up there all they want, but as long as I keep them off my cheeks I’ve defeated my emotions, I’ve won.

There was a time when I lost to my tears though – one of the many times, actually. At the time I didn’t know I needed to fight them. I didn’t know I was a crier, so it just happened. I was performing with my sister in the final night of our school’s Les Misérables production. All of the cast members were on stage, sweating slightly under the heat of the stage lights and layers of makeup. My parents were in the audience, my teachers too. I knew this final song would be incredible. “Do you hear the people sing?” we chanted. It was the finale, the final curtain. My favorite line was coming up so I looked across at my younger sister and she looked at me, and together with the firm beat of the timpani, we sang at the top of our lungs, “When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!” The tears broke through and I was crying again, barely able to choke out the repeat: “Tomorrow comes.” I had such a feeling of power, pleasure, and achievement that I just had to cry. I clearly can’t express any great emotion in a way other than crying!

            Except for today, where I am holding it in. I’m winning, and though my tears are fighting to leak out and stain my face with mascara, I am fighting back equally hard. “Dad,” I say, “how long until we get to the airport?” I decide that asking a question is a good way to get out of my thoughts, but I can hear the strain in my voice. And now that I think about it, I can feel the strain in my voice. My throat is sore from holding in the tears and emotion. I can hear the strain in Dad’s voice too as he replies. It’s only now I realize how quiet the car is. No one is talking, apart from every now and then when my mom tries to break it up with a bit of small talk as she remarks at how lovely the countryside is, or how blessed we are to be on the roads when there is little traffic. No one responds to my sweet mother’s valiant efforts to make the journey somewhat enjoyable – we are all lost in our own thoughts.

            Crying is the same response for me, whether the stimulus is good or bad. I cry when I’m happy but I also cry when I’m sad. About two months before our family got into the car to begin the trip down to Dublin airport, I cried nearly every night. I knew a change was coming and I was terrified. Fear made me cry, my tears won. I was sad that everything I knew would change, that I’d be alone, that my sister would grow up and I wouldn’t see her change in person or share in the experiences. That sadness made me cry too, I lost again. I was crushed by the thought that my relationship and friendships would undoubtedly be altered by the change. That hurt made me cry too. I lost again. I was forever losing to my tears. I didn’t know what I was losing but I could feel I was losing it. Maybe it was my grip on what really mattered.

            I’m considering all of theses events as the countryside flashes by in blurs of green, blue, and white. Okay now I’m being melodramatic, because I can’t help but think how appropriate it is that the countryside is flashing before my eyes just like my life has been doing for the past hour and a half. I’m such a girl sometimes. On the bright side, I’m a winner today.

            I plan on being a winner from now on. Of course I don’t mind crying while Rose says goodbye to Jack as the Titanic sinks behind them, but crying for myself is a no go, because then I’m letting my tears win.

            We walk into the airport and I check in my luggage. Mom is coming with me on the airplane. She knows how to be supportive. She has been a constant force for good throughout my entire life, my biggest supporter, most sincere compliment giver, and best friend. Today is the day I leave behind my family and move to America so that I can go to university. I know I’ve chosen this, but it’s not really what I want in those final moments when I’m hugging my dad and sister goodbye. Mom stands quietly at the doors leading to security, while I say farewell. I have to speak because dad is so choked up he can barely swallow. It’s hard to see the strong man (who gave my sister and me our red hair) crying. My little sister is crying openly and she is making it very difficult to keep my tears in check. For all the times we argued, we had a million more amazing moments. I can’t believe I’m saying goodbye! It’s not real! As I hug her goodbye my tears push at the frontier so one or two drip sadly onto my cheeks and down her back. But I’m still holding it together. I’m so proud that I’m winning this battle. I’m holding my emotions in. I walk towards security with a firm stride and a trembling chin. I look back and wave, smiling at them.

            In that moment, all I want to do is stand there, looking at them forever. It is very hard to win that battle while staring at the faces of your family, disfigured by sadness. Little Jess, as we call her, is really having a rough time. Her hand is to her mouth and I can see Dad’s hand firmly on her shoulder to try stop her shaking. It’s breaking my heart. The last image I see before I round the corner is my sister clinging to my dad, her little body shaking while she waves at me, and my dad, red eyed and strong as ever. I just wish he were coming with me, to be strong for me.

            I turn the corner, and suddenly I don’t need to fight to win anymore. I feel nothing. Mom hugs me like she thinks I’m broken inside. I say, “I’m fine, Mom.” And I think I am.

            But in that moment when I don’t need to fight at all, I realize I lost after all. It’s better to feel and cry, than to feel nothing at all. I lost who I was by beating the tears.

            I felt nothing the whole way to America, and now that I’m here I feel everything. I miss everything about home – the sound of our dog’s feet as she sprints up the stairs, Dad singing away as he helps Mom in the kitchen, the green, green fields for which Ireland is famous. Maybe if I’d cried that day and let my family comfort me I wouldn’t feel such a vast emptiness now.

            I find new ways of filling the void now, of bringing back the emotions I realize I am meant to show. Music is my number one method.

            I started playing the piano when I was seven years old. I remember feeling so complete – even while crying – as I played the piano while my cousin walked down the aisle at her wedding last summer. When I caught sight of her and my uncle looking so happy, I felt so complete that I just cried. I was so grateful that I had memorized the music because those tears totally blurred my vision, but I was still able to play from memory!

            I guess crying can remove the emptiness, so long as it is induced by something good, or at least will make you feel better. Now alone in a foreign country, I can look back and see that I was always meant to be a crier. It’s just who I am. My new life motto? Cry with a purpose.

BYU: Expectations .v. Reality (11)

When I was on the plane from Dublin making my way across to America I had so many preconceived ideas about BYU. Most of them came from the stereotypes and I guess a lot was out of my own fear. Having been at school for 2.5 months now, I think now is a good time to reflect on the reality of my situation and also set some goals for how I want to complete this semester

Firstly, my expectations:

1. I thought I'd see proposals left right and centre. I mean it's BYU...that's what happens, right?
2. I thought I'd be homesick every minute of every day. I was scared to death leaving, so of course home sickness should follow.
3. I'd have a lot of time to go hiking and seeing all the sites around Provo and the rest of Utah, classes would be fun and I'd easily tackle the American education system. HA!
4. I'd go to sleep every night at 11pm, being such a responsible adult.
5. There'd be parties every night, my roommates and I would go crazy.
6. I thought I'd fit right in.

The reality:

1. Sure some people are married, but actually most of the girls I know get a date every few weeks if they're lucky. We just chill and eat food usually. I'm really good at eating food. Of course I have seen a heard of a few proposals, but the student population makes a joke of the marriage rate at BYU. Not everyone is marriage hungry...just the RMs ;) If you're an RM reading this, I'm kidding, you're wonderful.
2. I usually am too busy to get home sick, but when I do it's very strong but quick. An hour crying usually sets me straight. Jess gets homesick too so we cry together sometimes, but usually we cry at different times so the other just laughs and waits for it to pass. Our American roommates get homesick too...even Meg who is from Salt Lake City an hour away. It's just part of the college experience I guess.
3. I have no free time. Ever. I am ALWAYS studying or at work or at school. Sometimes I'll go to school at 7:30am and only walk back in my door 12 hours later. The days can be long and tiring and stressful. Every now and then I've been blessed to take a trip somewhere: Salt Lake City, Rexburg, St. George, Payson, Orem...it's been really fun. But I always pay dearly the following weeks due to lack of homework done. Also the way tests are done here are so weird. Multiple choice...seriously?! What is with that. I thought it'd be easy at first, but after doing not-so-hot on my first few tests I realised I had to learn a new study technique.
4. I've gone to sleep 3 times before 11pm since being here. Most nights I can get to sleep before 1am but I've seen 3am and 4am a good few times since being here. Most mornings I get up at 6am too...so sleep is precious to me. My poor roommates know that because I give off to them if they're noisy. I'm so awful, cramping their freshman-in-college style, but I can't function without sleep. I still try to be a responsible adult, but sleep just is one thing I can't manage that well yet.
5. There are often parties, but usually they are off campus and none of us have a car so that's a problem, or the other reason we don't go is because when there is a choice between a party and a nap, a nap always wins. For example, on Halloween night there was a huge dance party on centre street. Jessica and I decided walking was too much of an effort, so we got in our beds with food and drinks and watched three episodes of Grey's Anatomy on Netflix. That was epic. I did not regret our decision.
6. I figured Americans are just like the people I've been around my whole life. I mean how different can we be? We look the same, eat similar foods, watch similar shows...but I was wrong. WE ARE DIFFERENT. That's the biggest lesson I've learned so far. Humour is different, the way we react to things is different, our expectations in school are different, the way we talk and compliment each other is different...just so much is different. It's nice and everything but it can get frustrating sometimes. One problem is having to look nice when you ask a question in class, because as soon as the Americans hear your funky accent they snap their necks around so fast I'm surprised it doesn't detach from their bodies. This attention requires you to look good since the entire class will be staring at you. Another problem is communication in work. I'll ask the manager where I can find receipt paper for the till because I just threw the last one in the bin and he will just stare at me like I've addressed him in Chinese. So I'll try again: "Where can I find receipt paper for the REGISTER because I just threw the last one in the TRASH CAN." Seriously. Every. Time.

I do love being here, it's really amazing. I love how a few weeks ago I was lying out in 30'C weather and this week I'm bundled up against the snow. It's meant to get down to -10'C this week. EW! Oh and that's another thing. Every time I say it's 1 degree everyone looks at me weirdly. I still haven't worked out what that is in fahrenheit so for now I'll just look dumb. At least my fabulous Irish roommate understands me. The people here are lovely (generalisation but true) and the professors are awesome. Work load is rough but weekends are blessings.

I plan on trying to get at least 6 hours sleep a night for the rest of the semester. I also want to do my readings a bit better...I'm pretty awful at that. I'll try write more letters home and eat healthier (I'm pretty sure the Freshman 15 isn't out of reach for me; like I said, I'm really good at eating). And I'll also try not offend any more Americans...humour just isn't the same here. Maybe I was just badly influenced by my good friend Jack Morrow. He corrupted me in high school. At least that's what dad said.

I hope everything is going fantastically where you are right now! I love hearing things from back home and I love getting letters...and Galaxy chocolate ;) SOS Jess and I are running low. God Bless!

Things As They Were (10)

I thought I'd be super home sick the whole time, but I really am not. I have fun and laugh and love this beautiful country that I am in and the friends who surround me in it. But it's still hard sometimes, and sometimes I really do feel homesick, and I guess today is just one of those days. I think maybe sharing my thoughts here is a good place to do it, because I can't share them completely anywhere else; everyone has their own problems and so they can only listen to you gurn for so long before it's just noise.

So I have come to a few realisations, some are true, others I know are just because I'm emotional and a girl...but they still matter to me!

Firstly: things will never be as they were. Never. I feared leaving home because I didn't want to leave my piano, room, bath, tv, family, guinea pig, ocean, neighbourhood, friends...everything. I was so comfortable and happy. But Dad told me that it would all be there waiting for me at Christmas, that I could come back and would come back and it'd be the same. But it's not going to be the same, and I think that has hurt the most. I was so comfortable. Just everything was perfect: my relationships were simple and beautiful, my friendships were close and fun, my family was right beside me, I knew everyone would always be there for me. I knew what I did every Saturday, what my routine was every morning. I knew I'd have Mom at home to make me dinner and look after me. I knew Jessie would jump into my room and sing Frozen until I finally kicked her out. They were all givens, sureties. Then it hit me. I may go home for Christmas, but I'll be a guest, living out of a suitcase for a week and a half. From here on out my life becomes an adult life, a life of responsibility and progression. No more comfort, it's all about jumping out of my comfort zone now. And that's terrifying. I would love to just go back to where I could cry and Dad would come tuck me in and tell me it'll be fine. I have to hold the tears in instead, or just cry a bit then move on. Because I'm at college and no one will ever listen for as long and care as much as my parents.

Secondly: I thought I had my life planned out but I really have no clue. I thought I was going to go on a mission for sure, and recently I just haven't had the same conviction. I'm not pushed against it but I'm not pushed to it in the same way, which is a little surprising for me. I guess I'll have to go with the flow. After 7 years of French I thought I'd stick with it until the end, but now I'm really not sure. I think I want to do Elementary Education still...but I just want to KNOW. I'm tired of thinking and guessing. I just want to know...everything...about everything.

Thirdly: I can't do it on my own, I'm ridiculously week. So basically I have realised that I really do feel better when I can talk to those who love me, even if it's one sided like writing a letter. Today I skyped Rachael Parker for at least 1.5 hours. It was so needed. We spoke about everything and it was just so amazing to have that friendship still there when we are so far apart. My roommates are crazy busy all the time but when they do get a free moment and they aren't quoting Harry Potter of Taylor Swift, they take the time to talk it out with me. Nancy hugged me tonight for ages while we were waiting for our french toast...don't judge that we were eating french toast at 11pm...it's college, that's what you do okay! I guess through everything I just realised that I'm not the warrior I thought I was; I can't survive alone. But the biggest revelation was when I realised that I need my Saviour. You'd think I'd have learned that by now but APPARENTLY NOT. I noticed I was just not myself and tried to see what my deal was. I realised I'd stopped my daily scripture study, which really broke my heart. After 4 years of daily study I'd lost it in the one place that was designed to keep me strong. So I explained this to a few people and in the end I made a pact with Brandon to read my scriptures every night and then we would exchange something we learned. It was worth it. It's been worth it so far. I feel better with the Saviour back in abundance in my life.

If you're still reading by this point, you're a trooper. Thanks for caring! I sometimes just want things to go back to the way they were. I was so peaceful and happy. But I know that although I'm tried and tested, it's for a reason. It's not unbearable, I can do it. I just need to rely on those people who love me. And I need to grow up. I wish I didn't have tear ducts, because I swear they are so annoying, plus mine are particularly functional.

Dad, I miss you! I just want you to tuck me in and sing Kumbaya to me. Thank you for your (almost) daily emails that make me so happy and put a smile on my face. Thanks for supporting me in more ways than financially while I'm here. I love you.

Mom, you are the one I'm closest with back home because you talk to me every day, even if it's just a message. It means the world to me to hear all of the little things. I love every message I get from you. Thanks for those emails where you give me incredible advice. It's really frustrating that I've only just realised what an amazing friend you've been to me all these years. I miss feeling beautiful on a Sunday because I don't have you telling me I am. I hate making decisions on my own. I miss having a constant companion who lived only for me and did everything for me. I took you for granted but I will live the rest of my life thankful or you. I love you.

Jess Bess, I love you so much. I feel like I'm missing out on your life more than anyone else's. I miss every single tiny thing that we used to do together. Half of me is still back in N. I because there is no one here to finish my movie quotes and other random things. I miss hearing you play the piano. I love it when you message me. You're amazing. You're so important and you are truly beautiful.

To anyone who isn't my immediate family that actually managed to find the patience to read this far, thank you. Each of you has fit into my life in a precise way, and you made me into the person that I am today.

I know I'm a soppy mess right now, but it's my blog and so suck it up and enjoy it. I just want to be real on this, and every day isn't a perfect little rainbow of happiness and adventure. Some days like today are days when I live on 3 hours sleep, eating hardly anything and just waiting for something to cheer me up.

But hey. It's my fault when I'm sad. I have so much to be thankful for, how can I be sad. So here's the quote I'm living by...for today at least...then I'm sure pinterest will spit some new beautiful quote out at me:

Cry a river.
Build a bridge.
Get over it.