Procrastination

Why is it that as the semester progresses a student's tendency to procrastinate increases? I swear it's a scientific fact, and there's an equation that verifies my theory.

Every student experiences this phenomenon at one time or another, and I am no exception. I have two tests, two conference papers, and an analysis paper due in the next two weeks, but am I finished with any of them? Absolutely not. At least I've started on studying for the tests...

Wait, we have a quarterback who actually knows how to play football?

The Cougars just had a 96 yard drive in the last minute and a half of the game, making the winning touchdown with less than 15 seconds in the game. That was the craziest thing I've ever seen! I'm so glad Bronco pulled that joke of a quarterback, Jake Heaps, and put in someone who actually knows what he's doing. Way to go Riley Nelson!

Go Cougars!

It's football season again! I love football season; it just makes the weekends that much better. BYU is looking really good this season. We had a rough start at Ole Miss, but we pulled through it. To make two touchdowns in the last ten minutes of the game? Craziness! We came out blazing against Texas this week--a touchdown and a field goal in the first quarter--and even though we lost our heads a little bit during the last half, we still played an excellent game. The biggest game of the season is next week. We need to keep up this hot streak, so we can whoop the Utes when they come to Provo next week.

Go Cougars! We believe in you.

Fantastic Reality Part 3

It's the last part of the scene!

I waited for Dad to respond, but his mouth just opened and closed as he searched for something to say. In the end he looked helplessly over his shoulder to where my mother stood slowly stirring a tall glass of ice tea. She looked up from her tea, and cocked one eyebrow at Dad. It appeared that they were doing that weird telepathy thing that parents sometimes do, and a heavy silence fell. I clutched at Dad’s hand and forced him to look at me.

“Dad, listen, I’m sorry that you haven’t met James yet. He just feels uncomfortable around…authority figures. But we can fix that! James is waiting for me, and we can go down to the duck pond, and you’ll finally get to met him. He’s so funny, Dad, and I just know that you’re going to love him.” I pulled at his arm, and he rose slowly from his chair. He looked helplessly at Mom again, and motioned toward the back door.

“Come on, Camille. We should at least just go down to the pond and check it out.” She looked at us for a moment before slamming her glass down on the counter. I was surprised the glass didn’t shatter from the force of impact. Iced tea sloshed over the edge of the glass, but for once she ignored it.

“Fine,” she said tersely. “We’ll go down to the pond.” She clicked over to the back door, swung it open, and walked out into the garden without looking back. I scampered after her, towing Dad along behind me. When we finally caught up with her, I babbled about the time James and I had found a robin’s nest in one of the trees, the time I tricked James into thinking that old lady Winters was actually a witch, the time James found a small bush of wild blackberries growing in the woods by our house. As we crested the hill and the pond with its small circle of trees became visible, I raced ahead, calling for James. There was the log that lay half in the water and half in the grass, and there was the crook in the tree where James always sat. There was the birdfeeder that we had made when we were ten, and there was sparkling quartz rock that we had found in Mr. Connors’ back yard and rolled down to the pond.

James didn’t answer because James wasn’t at the pond, waiting for me like he’d promised. My parents had finally come, and James was gone.

Fantastic Reality

A couple of weeks ago, in my post "Spring," I lamented the fact that I didn't know how to post some of my awesome stories that I've written because they were just too long. Maddie made the comment that I should post them in sections, and I think that's a great idea. I'm going to start off with some of the stories I've written for my English classes.

This story is actually just a scene, not a full story. The assignment was to write a realistic scene that contained some fantastical element. I don't want to ruin the story, so I'm afraid that's all the background info that you get today. Enjoy!

My hand was on the doorknob when my dad came out of the kitchen, calling my name. I sighed and turned around to face him, but I left my fingers on the doorknob, just to show him that I had no real intention of staying for very long. He stood in the hallway with his shoulders hunched and his hands shoved in his pockets, and his uncomfortable stance made me shift in anticipation. Mom was breathing down his neck about something, that was for sure, and it was clear that that something had to do with me. I thought back over my recent grades, but the only thing I could think of was the B- that I had received on my last History test. I smiled and lifted my books encouragingly.

“Listen, Dad, I was just about to go study for History. I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Can this wait until then? I have a major test coming up.”

“Are you going down to the duck pond?”

“Well, yeah. James said he would help me.” When Dad wouldn’t look me in the eye, I knew it was really serious. Then Mom appeared in the kitchen doorway. She just stood there, leaning against the doorjamb, with her arms folded and staring at my dad. Dad and I looked over at her, and we both gave a little gulp. She nodded slowly to my dad, and he turned back to me.

“Your mother and I would like to talk with you in the kitchen.” I opened my mouth to protest, but my mother cut me off with a glance.

“Abigail, we need to speak to you in the kitchen. Now,” she snapped. She didn’t even wait to hear my response; she just turned on her shiny black heels and clicked her way back into the kitchen. Dad shrugged and slumped in after my mother. After a moment alone in the hallway, I finally gave up and went to join them. I considered slamming my books, or tossing my chair around, but soon gave up on the idea. Mom was ice cold today, and if I acted out it would only prolong the agony before I could get down to James and the duck pond. I just sat down and addressed Dad.

“So, what do we need to talk about? If this is about my History grades, I just want you to know that I’m working on it, and I promise that I’ll have an A by the end of the year.”

“This isn’t about your grades, sweetie. We actually wanted to discuss the duck pond and your friend James. We think…we think it’s time you stopped going down there.” He said this last in a rush, and he looked down at his fingers. I sat back, not really understanding what he was hinting at.

100th Post!

It's my 100th post on this blog! That's very exciting. And what better way to celebrate my 100th post than to post a literary wonder (I am an English major, after all; this is what I do for fun)?

This is a parody of Robert Herrick's poem "To Virgins, to Make Much of Time." It's the one that starts "Gather ye rosebuds while ye may..." Herrick was a Cavalier poet, and the Cavalier poets were all about seizing the day, taking advantage of your youth, having the time of your life, blah blah blah. It was typical for these poems to be directed to women. For an English assignment, we have to imitate some form of literature that we have been studying. In my imitation of Herrick's poem, the perspective is that of a woman speaking to a man.

To Bachelors, To Make Much of Time

Frequent yon health clubs while ye may
Old Time will soon come calling:
The strongest man who lifts today,
Ere long will be a-sprawling.

The stunning king of forests, the stag,
Whose horns have much dissuaded
Those cruel beasts, vixen and nag,
He’ll be left, fattened and faded.

And oh! That time when hair grows free,
Thou art glorious to behold.
But soon your heightened brow—you’ll see—
Will stand out brilliant and bold.

So do not stall, but use your time,
And give a maid a crystal:
For having lost but once your prime

You will remain a-single.

Spring

I just completed one of the best and worst terms of my university career. Half my time was incredibly awesome. The other half was incredibly bad. Let me start with the bad (that way we can end on a cheerful note).

My Spanish 339 (Intro to Spanish Lit) class was THE WORST class I have attended since I started going to BYU. I have never hated a class or a professor more in my entire life. And I swear I am not exaggerating. The professor was so condescending and unhelpful. I honestly dreaded going to class. The literature was ok, but I didn't understand anything I read. I would start reading a story or an essay, and I would be lost before I had finished the first paragraph. The only redeeming factor about this course was the poetry unit.

Thankfully, I had my English 318R (Writing Fiction) class to keep me sane. I have always loved my English classes, and this class served as a way to release all my frustrations with the previous class. I wrote some great stories. They were serious, they were sad, but they were great. I wish I could put some of them up here, but they ranged from 8 to 15 pages long. Maybe I can figure out how to put a link to a Google Doc on here...Anyways, I went to see my instructor for an end-of-the-year interview, and he told me that I could be a professional writer! It made me feel so good about my writing.

So, it turned out to be a bear of a term, but there were some good moments. Maybe the summer term will be better?

Pablo Neruda

I hate the Spanish class that I'm in right now. The professor is condescending and makes me feel stupid. I get lost every time I try to read something, which also makes me feel stupid. Overall, I just feel stupid in that class, which is especially rough since I go to this class for two hours, three days a week. But sometimes we get to read/discuss something in class that reminds me why I love Spanish and literature, especially poetry. Last week, it was Pablo Neruda's poem "Me gustas cuando callas." Translation: "I Like It When You're Quiet."

Now, you have to understand that Pablo Neruda is one of my all-time favorite poets. He's right up there with Wordsworth and Keats. I will just eat his poetry up. My favorite is "Ode to a Tomato," but this one is running a close second. A really close second. For those of you who know me well will know that my heart melts as soon as I get the slightest whiff of romance. This poem just reeks of the heart-stopping, breath-taking, I'll-love-you-until-time-stops kind of romance. Well, that's what it felt like when I first read it. Anyways, I'll give the Spanish version (courtesy of http://www.neruda.uchile.cl) and then I'll translate it for those of you who don't speak Spanish. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Me gustas cuando callas

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente,

y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te toca.

Parece que los ojos se te hubieran volado

y parece que un beso te cerrara la boca.

Como todas las cosas están llenas de mi alma
emerges de las cosas, llena del alma mía.
Mariposa de sueño, te pareces a mi alma,
y te pareces a la palabra melancolía.

Me gustas cuando callas y estás como distante.
Y estás como quejándote, mariposa en arrullo.
Y me oyes desde lejos, y mi voz no te alcanza:
déjame que me calle con el silencio tuyo.

Déjame que te hable también con tu silencio
claro como una lámpara, simple como un anillo.
Eres como la noche, callada y constelada.
Tu silencio es de estrella, tan lejano y sencillo.

Me gustas cuando callas porque estás como ausente.
Distante y dolorosa como si hubieras muerto.
Una palabra entonces, una sonrisa bastan.
Y estoy alegre, alegre de que no sea cierto.

I Like It When You're Quiet

I like it when you're quiet because it's like you're gone,

And you hear me from far away, even though me voice doesn't touch you.

It appears that your eyes have flown from you,

And it appears that a kiss has left you breathless.

As all the things that fill my soul

Emerge as just things, my soul is still filled.

Butterfly of my dream, you appear to my soul,

And you appear as the word Melancholy.

I like it when you're quiet, and it's like you are distant.

And it's like you're complaining, like a butterfly's lullaby.

And you hear me from far away, even though my voice doesn't touch you:

Leave me in your loving silence.

Leave me where you speak in your silence

As clear as a lamp, as simple as a ring.

You are like the night, silent and full of stars.

Your silence is a star, so far and simple.

I like it when you're quiet because it's like you're gone.

Distant and painful, as if you were dead.

One word, one half-smile,

And I am glad, glad that this isn't true.

Winter Semester

It's finished! The dreaded, stupid Winter Semester is finished! I'm so happy.

Deep breath.

Spring term starts in three days.

Books

I am slightly addicted to reading. Ok, scratch that--I am VERY addicted to reading. I love it; I eat, sleep, and breathe books. I mean, that's why I'm an English Major. Once in a while, I'll have a dream that is eerily similar to one of the books I've been reading. And that is where my addiction becomes scary. Because where other people have escapes like Second Life, I have books. While I am a firm believer that books are amazing--and I'm sure that I will encourage my children to become junkies like unto myself--there are moments when I worry that I've gotten in too deep. Because of books, my reality is full of expectations that will never be met: I once sat down on the sidewalk while it was snowing because I thought it would be the perfect moment for my true love to come along and sweep me off my feet. Yeah.

So I decided to stop, cold turkey. Well, I mean, I wasn't going to stop reading (that would severely damage my grades for ALL of my classes), but I was going to stop buying books. I had too many good books on my bookshelves that I needed to read. But this week I broke down; I fell off the wagon, and I bought not one, not two, but three new books. Three! I just couldn't resist. This past week I've just felt like I was drowning--I had to get out of the classroom, get out of Provo, and get out of Utah. But I'm poor, and I can't leave right now. So, as the panic was beginning to choke me, I did the only thing I could do: I bought three books. This literature junkie is very happy right now.

Because there is nothing quite like the look, the feel, the smell of a fat, new book.

The Past

Nostalgia is good. We remember good and bad time in our lives for a reason--those moments changed the course of our lives. Sometimes, I re-read some of my old poems and my old stories, and I laugh, but then I think "Hey, there is some glint in these; I can write something worth while." Here's something I wrote right before my senior year of high school began, and it made me think that we should just stop for a second and write down the first memories that come to our head. We could learn something from ourselves.



It's Sunday, August 3 (Kiera's birthday...big shout out to her), and I'm sitting in Church thinking how Tuesday is the beginning of the end of an era. Because Tuesday, August 5, is the first day of school for those of us who still attened AES, and for me, it's the first day of Senior year.

Over the summer, I've been thinking a lot about Senior year--worrying about Senior year, actually. It's a big thing to worry about. You've got college applications to deal with the first half of the year, and then the second half of the year you have to worry about final exams, which, for me, include the dreaded IB exams. Plus, I have almost all the same super hard classes as I did last year. Needless to say, I was anticipating that this weekend I would be feeling nervous, scared, or maybe even excited that I was finally going to be done with High School and with India. So it surprised me when I discovered that I was a little sad that this year would be my last, not only in High School, but in India too.

When we first moved here, everybody in my old neighborhood told me that I would have amazing experiences. And truth be told, I didn't believe them. But after living here almost two years, I'm kind of starting to believe them. I didn't have any life-changing experiences. I take that back. My life was changed by living here. Just not in the way you'd expect. There are moments from these two years that will probably be ingrained in my mind forever. For example:

I remember the day I left Utah...and the airplane ride to Delhi...and seeing the lights of Delhi for the first time...and my first day in the city when I almost passed out from the combination of masses of people, the smells, and the sights; people pointed at my dad and called him a giant.

I remember the feeling I had my first day at AES.

I remember house hunting with my dad.

I remember getting horribly sick the day of Minicourse. And the consequent train ride on which I threw up at least every hour.

I remember talking to Hannah about anything and everything during free periods.

I remember my first-ever Dead Week (there's a reason they call it that).

I remember the night I flew home for Christmas...and meeting my mom at the airport.

I remember waiting in the halls of Bingham for all my old friends and feeling so out of place it physically hurt me.

I remember the night before I had to go back to Delhi, and Hannah came over to celebrate my Sweet Sixteenth.

I remember my Sweet Sixteenth.

I remember sitting in a bungalow in Nepal, just thinking.

I remember the last day of school and feeling intensly relieved.

I remember the first day I met Maddie, and she gave me one word answers.

I remember the first day I met Miranda, and she wouldn't stop talking.

I remember the first night Maddie, Miranda, and I stayed up until two in the morning.

I remember Youth Conference where we were DJs because we were afraid the boys would ask us to dance (they did anyways).

I remember the first musical I had a major role in.

I remember going out almost every weekend.

I remember flying home for my sister's wedding.

I remember Moti Mahal and Tropicana nights with Maddie.

I remember working out in the weight room at school with Miranda.

I remember going to Shimla with the Stokers.

I remember going to the orphanage and wanting to hold and love every child there.

I remember the night Maddie and Miranda graduated, even though I couldn't be there.

I remember planning next summer with Hannah.

I remember a lot of things. And that's why my life has changed because of India. Because I've made so many memories in so short amount of time with some of the most amazing people I will ever meet. Because it's the little things that count.
I've learned some amazing lessons from those people, and others. Don't worry, I won't list all the lessons I've learned. I guess what I'm trying to say, after all of that, is that while I've hated living here some days, living in India was probably one of the best things that could have happened to me, and I'm really grateful to my parents for giving me the choice to come to Delhi.

So let the beginning of the end...well...begin!

The Busy-ness of Life

This week I have:

1. Watched three movies (which is weird because usually I don't have time to watch movies)
   
2. Read a chapter of a book of my choice (one chapter; that's it!)
   
3. Finished Persuasion and The Companion to Chaucer, both of which are textbooks for my two English classes
4. Written part of a research paper
5. Driven to Provo twice (which means I had to buy more gas than usual which sucks because gas prices are so high)
   
6. Taken four tests
7. Eaten at Chick-fil-A (which is awesome!)
8. Not gotten to bed before 11.

Most of my weeks are like this. And this is why I haven't been able to post on my blog recently.

Such is the business of life.

Two More Days...

In two days--actually it's only a day and a half!--I get to go to an all-inclusive resort in Nuevo Vallarta. We get buffets and virgin margaritas/strawberry daiquiris/piña coladas all day every day. There are two gorgeous pools and a volleyball court. And the best part: the resort OWNS A PRIVATE BEACH! Heck yeah, this next week is going to be awesome.

Want to see a picture of the resort? Of course you do!
This is just one of the beautiful pools.

This is their private beach! How lucky am I?!

Guachimontones

We visited our first set of ruins this weekend! Yay! I was really excited to go because I love the ruins in Mexico. First we went to a town called Teuchitlán, where they have a museum about the ruins. The ruins are in a place called Guachimontones, which is about 25 minutes away from Teuchitlán, and these ruins are special. These ruins are circular instead of the normal pyramids that you usually think of when you think of Aztec ruins. Also, there are twelve (I'm pretty sure it's twelve, but it could be less) platforms that used to hold little houses that surround that ceremonial "mounds" (those are the circular pyramids). These ruins were only used in times of ceremony--the rest of the town actually lived in Teuchitlán. There was a whole bunch of facts that we "learned" when we watched a video about Guachimontones in the museum, but I was really tired and the movie was really boring...yeah, you can guess what happened about two minutes after they started the movie. But I loved Guachimontones--it was gorgeous! And the ruins were really cool too.
After Guachimontones, we went to another little town--I can't remember the name of the town, sorry--to go to another museum, but the museum was closed. So we just wandered around. They had a cathedral (of course) and in front of the cathedral was a really pretty garden with lots of rose bushes. It was great for taking pictures. Oh, funny story! So we all went to eat ice cream while we were in no-name town, and after, we all meandered toward the garden. As I was walking over to the garden, I saw two adorable street dogs. So, of course, I went over to pet both of them. After that, they followed me all over the place! Why is it that I can make friends with dogs in like five minutes, but it takes me FOREVER to make friends with real people?
Ha ha, anyway, enjoy some of the pictures of the beautiful Guachimontones countryside!I thought I would show a picture of myself, so that you all knew I really was in Mexico.

I love the trees here!

This is one of the platforms that sits in front of the ceremonial "mound."
This is the bigger of the two ruins--they haven't restored it yet because it would just be too expensive.

Ok, so I really do have friends here in Mexico. From left to right: Melissa Stephens, me, Erynn Scott, and Romney Olsen. I love everyone in our group, but I like hanging out with these guys especially.

This is the ball court in between the two mounds. Two parties who were disputing something would come to the ball court and play ball all day long--literally. The only place they could touch the ball was their hips. At the end of the day, the one who won was killed. Yeah, I said the person who won the game gets killed. Apparently it's an honor to win the game. It's a good thing I live in 2010.

One last view of the ceremonial mound.

My adorable new street puppy!

Zacatecas

This weekend, we went to Zacatecas, and we got to stay for two days (no school on Friday--YES)! It was really fun, except for the part where I got stung by a wasp. Right on the nose. Not so fun. But I just keep telling myself that I must smell like a beautiful flower, which is way better than smelling terrible, right?
Anyway, Zacatecas is a really pretty town (the locals all call it "pintoresco") that's full of narrow, windy roads, old-fashioned buildings, and lovely little cathedrals and churches. The first place that we went to was a museum, but we had to walk through ruins to get to the exhibits. I immediately fell in love with this place. It was absolutely gorgeous! I took so many pictures, both of the ruins and of the exhibits. The museum has a huge collection of masks from all over Mexico, and while some of them were a little weird, they were all pretty cool. After the museum, we went searching for the various churches in Zacatecas. Apparently, each town has one main cathedral and all the rest are just churches that kind of look like cathedrals. Who would have thought? The cathedral in Zacatecas is beautiful. It's famous for the carvings around the outside of the building--and it should be. The carvings are so detailed; it's really quite incredible. That was pretty much it for day one.
On day two, we went to the silver mine (Mina: El Edén), which is where Zacatecas gets most of its income. The silver mine itself wasn't all that cool, but they did have a "museum" that displayed all the different kinds of gems, minerals, and rocks that can be found in the mine. That was cool. After the mine, we went to the teleférico, which is the cable car that runs across the whole city. It was really cool to see the city that way. Then we did some shopping, ate lunch, did some more shopping, and went home. If it didn't take about 6 hours to get to Zacatecas from Guadalajara, I would definitely go there again.There are little craft stands like this all over the place.

This is the cathedral in Zacatecas. Aren't the carvings beautiful? Well, I like them.

This is the museum that I am in love with.
I absolutely love the colored houses here in Mexico. This is my friend Lauralee, a girl from our group.Part of the ruins inside the museum.
A couple of masks...pucker up, girls!

Catch Up

I thought that it was about time that I update those of you who wish to know on what I am up to now.

Well, I'm here in Guadalajara, Mexico! I was already in love with Mexico--ever since we went to Cancun the first time--but now I think Mexico is even more awesome. Guadalajara is big city, and it's gorgeous! There are trees absolutely everywhere, and it is so green. It rains, hard, almost every day here. Most of the people in our group don't really like the thunderstorms, but I love them. It makes me really happy when it rains.
The people here are absolutely wonderful, too. They are so sweet and they make you feel so welcome. The family that I'm staying with is super nice. Our new mom, Guille, cooks all the time. She cooks us breakfast, a big lunch, and a dinner (but the dinner is more like a snack). She always says when need to eat more. Finally I told her that I love her food, but I'm going to gain a lot of weight if I just keep eating. She doesn't mind anymore when I don't want anymore food. The people at church are really nice, too, especially the YSA group. They've done a lot of activities with us since we got here, and all of them are really eager to make us comfortable in our new surroundings. Everyone, our families and those at church, is very patient with us as we try and improve our Spanish. They correct--nicely--us when we get our phrases tangled, and they use what English they know to help us understand.
Our group is just really fun. Everyone is really nice to each other. All of the girls are really happy and friendly, and the guys are just funny. They make us girls laugh a lot. We do almost everything together, and we do a lot of activities. We've been to El Centro (the center of Guadalajara), dancing, a couple of cathedrals, lots of museums, and the movies. Tomorrow there is a stake dance for the YSA, and on Saturday we are going to a city called Tlaquepaque. Our mom says that it is a really pretty city. I'm excited.
I have a lot of pictures, and I'll put some up soon, I promise.

English 218

I was so excited for this semester for two reasons: 1) there are far less people on campus during Spring/Summer than there are in Fall/Winter and 2) this was the first semester that I could take the first Creative Writing class. I love writing, and I really wanted to take this class because I felt that I needed a little help to make my writing the best it can be.
We do writing exercises almost every class period. We have begun studying poetry, and for one of our writing exercises we had to write a poem entitled "Happiness". This is what I came up with.

Snuggled deep under the duvet,
I hear the noisy whispers of my
nieces and their brother.
I peek out and see them
coming in. They crawl to
the very edge, peering and giggling--
sometimes they dare to poke the
sleeping bear that is their aunt.
As stealthy as giant tractors,
they climb onto the bed frame,
test the ocean on top of me, and finally
they leap.

My nephew stares at me,
the stare of a little wise-man.
I have tried everything--he
blinked at peek-a-boos,
yawned at tickles, and
turned away from silly faces.
The boy still stares, boring holes
into my soul until
I am ready to tell him my sins
and weep on his shoulder.
I smack my lips together,
and there it is--the soft smile
that turns him back into a babe
of six months.

There they sit,
the oldest sisters,
crowned by their families,
the glow of motherhood surrounding them
like dust shaken from angel's wings.
As they chatter about diaper brands,
potty training, and baby food,
I ache to belong to that secret circle,
while my younger sister begs me to play.
They turn and smile,
inviting me, and even the youngest, in.
We all four laugh together,
recounting memories from
far away places and
long ago times.

Our giant, our protector--
the man who could crush a hopeful
young man merely with his presence
even as he lovingly carries little ones
on his shoulder--bellows a lion's roar
from outside. Suddenly we are
ants scurrying from here to there,
patiently waiting for
the picnic to be set.
The sweet smell of smoked meat
is tantalizingly strong, and
our father stands amid his
smoldering kingdom.

With a the grace of a swan on a lake,
Mother glides around the house.
Upstairs and downstairs she goes,
gliding from kitchen to living room,
living room to back porch and
back again.
The glow of motherhood does not
simply surround her. She is
steeped in it; it comes from her very pores.
She is benefactress, counselor, wise woman,
comforter.

I am curled up in the armchair,
a blanket tucked around my legs,
an open book in my lap.
Everyone is gone, and
I am encased in silence.

So that's it--that's my poem entitled "Happiness". I've decided that it could also be called "Fourth of July". Tell me what you think!

Summer Plans

Guess what Ashley's doing this summer.








No, I'm serious. Guess.








Go ahead. I REALLY want you to guess.








Ok, I can't take it anymore. You guys are too slow at the whole guessing game.








ASHLEY'S GOING TO GUADALAJARA THIS SUMMER!








(Excitement prevails, and everyone is happy)

Could this weekend get any better?

So...this weekend was simply amazing. Want to know why it was so amazing? Well, besides the amazing dinner we partook of on Thursday...WE WON THE GAME AGAINST UTAH! Nothing gets better than that, let me tell you.

I have always been an avid fan of Cougar football (even though I still have trouble following the rules, but I am getting better at it!), and every season I anxiously await this game. This game is very important. We don't wear red for at least a week prior to it. That would be unthinkable. So you can imagine how excited I was that this year's BYU/Utah game (my first ever at college) was a home game, and I had a ticket. Granted, my seat was at the very top of the stadium, but at least we had a good view of the entire field. Watching that game was so much fun--my friends and I were standing and screaming at the team the entire game; my thought hurt afterwards, and I sounded like I had been sick for weeks. Good times, good times.

My roommate was amazed at how deep the hatred runs between the two schools. She's from Alabama, so she didn't grow up with it like I did. I guess it is pretty shocking. Take Max Hall for example. Who would have thought that this nice senior would so vehemnetly bash Utah in post-game comments? ("I hate Utah. I hate everything about them. I hate their program, I hate their fans, I hate everything." --Max Hall) Of course, Max Hall did have some pretty rough experiences with Utah fans, which could explain his attitude toward them. Anywas, my point was that this rivalry isn't just some rivalry. It's The Rivalry. It's The Holy War, as my friend Levi Selway put it. It's the be all and end all of the Utah football season. And I got to be there for it. I think the look on my face says it all:

This picture was taken right after Andrew George made the winning touchdown, and just about every fan ran onto the field in celebration. The field around the 30 yeard line was pretty clear, so we decided to take pictures.

College

http://lorien.ncl.ac.uk/ming/Dept/Fun/jokes/college.htm
I'm sad to say that sometimes I feel like this is true.