bellatrix ii

I have two roommates who are both avid Harry Potter fans. I thought I was an avid Harry Potter fan as well, but apparently not, because I hadn't joined Pottermore.

So I created an account on Pottermore. Mostly to see where the sorting hat would put me. 

With much anticipation and bated breath, I finished the questionnaire and clicked that last button.

Slytherin. The hat put me in Slytherin. But of course it did.

Haley laughed. She's Hufflepuff though, so we can probably still get along somewhat.

Katie laughed too. But she's Gryffindor. I'm thinking it's a good thing I'm moving out in four days. She associates with the likes of Ron Weasely, who once retorted, "if it means we're supposed to get matey with the Slytherins, fat chance." 

Well, in that case, no getting "matey" desired on this end either, you Gryffindor-ians.

In the future, I plan on making friends based on where they've been sorted. Obviously, if you aren't Slytherin, well, we weren't really meant to be friends anyways. If you refuse to get sorted, I shall just assume that you aren't magical, and heaven knows what should happen to squibs.

before i'm thirty.

Sometimes I try to imagine the kind of person I'd be at thirty. I don't know, really.

But I hope that Bob Marley and the Red Hot Chili Peppers always make me think of summer. I hope that I still hate peanut butter (or my brothers would never let me live that one down). I hope that I still sing and dance to the radio in my car. I hope that I still have this unbearable desire to see and experience the world. I hope that I still love to learn. I hope that I still want a beautiful library full of old books. I hope that I still have a close relationship with my family and friends. I hope that I still dream big. I hope that I don't make too many stupid decisions. I hope even more that I don't make the boring, safe ones all the time either.

I hope I always have the desire to grow into me. That I learn to live life without fear. I've tried for a long time to do that. Then I realized that it's possible to be afraid of being afraid. It's possible to try so hard to become independent that letting yourself be any sort of dependent again is harder than it should be. It's possible to ignore yourself. It's possible to drown good things with good things. It's possible to rationalize anything into something and vice versa.

Turning thirty is nine years away. That's nine years that I'm going to be constantly evolving and changing into someone more.

Nine years is long enough to learn certain things, like remembering to make my bed every morning. To never put my clothes on my chair to put away later. To not always bank on "getting up early" to work if you've procrastinated something. To become one of those highly productive people that you read about in magazines.

Pamela Satran wrote a list of things that a woman should have and should know by the time she's thirty. I'm working on it.

By 30, you should have ...

1. One old boyfriend you can imagine going back to and one who reminds you of how far you’ve come.
2. A decent piece of furniture not previously owned by anyone else in your family.
3. Something perfect to wear if the employer or man of your dreams wants to see you in an hour.
4. A purse, a suitcase, and an umbrella you’re not ashamed to be seen carrying.
5. A youth you’re content to move beyond.
6. A past juicy enough that you’re looking forward to retelling it in your old age.
7. The realization that you are actually going to have an old age -- and some money set aside to help fund it.
8. An email address, a voice mailbox, and a bank account -- all of which nobody has access to but you.
9. A résumé that is not even the slightest bit padded.
10. One friend who always makes you laugh and one who lets you cry.
11. A set of screwdrivers, a cordless drill, and a black lace bra.
12. Something ridiculously expensive that you bought for yourself, just because you deserve it.
13. The belief that you deserve it.
14. A skin-care regimen, an exercise routine, and a plan for dealing with those few other facets of life that don’t get better after 30.
15. A solid start on a satisfying career, a satisfying relationship, and all those other facets of life that do get better.

By 30, you should know ...

1. How to fall in love without losing yourself.
2. How you feel about having kids.
3. How to quit a job, break up with a man, and confront a friend without ruining the friendship.
4. When to try harder and when to walk away.
5. How to kiss in a way that communicates perfectly what you would and wouldn’t like to happen next.
6. The names of the secretary of state, your great-grandmothers, and the best tailor in town.
7. How to live alone, even if you don’t like to.
8. Where to go -- be it your best friend’s kitchen table or a yoga mat -- when your soul needs soothing.
9. That you can’t change the length of your legs, the width of your hips, or the nature of your parents.
10. That your childhood may not have been perfect, but it’s over.
11. What you would and wouldn’t do for money or love.
12. That nobody gets away with smoking, drinking, doing drugs, or not flossing for very long.
13. Who you can trust, who you can’t, and why you shouldn’t take it personally.
14. Not to apologize for something that isn’t your fault.
15. Why they say life begins at 30.

As I was reading this list, I realized how much I've learned over the past three years of college. I've still got a ways to go before I'm the kind of woman I'd be proud to be at age thirty. But it's all right. I've still got some time.

the provo diet

I survived finals week, sending off my last paper this morning at 3:00am. 

I'm going camping for the next two days.

I get to see Haley Boyle in four days!

I have two weeks before I leave for Africa.

I have a to-do list that is ridiculously long. 

I took my car in to get a simple oil change and learned that car problems are kind of costly to fix. Bummer.

I finished my cleaning check.

I had this plan where I wouldn't buy groceries until I leave.

But now, I'm trying to decide whether it's really worth it.

Pasta + salsa? Stir fry sauce and eggs?

Since when did I get so many condiments anyways? And what happened to all of my food?

finals week.

"Emily! How are you?! Your hair...it looks...different."

I wave. "Oh, hey! I'm doing great. And yeah...don't plan on me doing my hair for the next week. Sorry."

So here I sit on my couch. In my comfy jeans and souvenir sweatshirt from Salamanca, Spain. Haley's on the other couch in her sweats. We're the only ones home, with all the best intentions of studying. Yet, here I am doing, well, you know, and I believe that she's watching an episode of Lost. Stress has driven people to stranger things though, I'd like to think.

I had top ramen for lunch. She had spaghetti-o's.

I don't know if it gets much more college than that, honestly.

My survival action plan for finals includes listening to my She & Him Pandora station, staying up late, having my roommates change my facebook password, and yes, not doing my hair.

I'll see you guys on the other side.

the africa diet

I'm going to Africa. I'm flying to Africa in exactly 22 days.

Peggy, the director of the NGO we're working for, said, "When you reach Zambia, go to the market. Buy some cornmeal and a couple of chickens. Put the chickens in the truck. When you reach the villages, hand them the cornmeal and the chickens, and they'll turn that into your meal."

Jeff sent out an email letting us know that he's buying clif bars...just in case we tire of corn mush after a couple weeks.

It's looking like it's shaping up to be four weeks of cornmush, chicken, and clif bars. Somehow I don't think that I'll be stuffing myself into oblivion during those four weeks.

And I must admit, with knowing all that, my eating habits have been less than satisfactory this past semester. I tend to justify eating everything with "I'm going to Africa."

Friends have told me, "Oh, my brother served his mission in Africa! He lost, like, fifty pounds."

I nod my head every time, and to be completely honest, I didn't feel guilty in the slightest about downing a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream this past weekend.

Anyhow, my boss broke my bubble: "Emily, you're not going to be there for two years. You're going to be there for one month."

I went running this morning. It's better than going on the Africa diet for two years.

springtime

It's spring outside.

Utah weather is bipolar, but just let me repeat:

It's spring outside.

I don't even mean any of this "It's spring because it's past March 20th" business. I mean honest to goodness blue skies, highs in the sixties, and people studying on the grass kind of spring.

Last week I attended the Wheatley International Affairs Conference, which meant I had to miss about four days of school. It was mentally exhausting and I got about five hours of sleep every night--and it was still fun. I went snowshoeing for the first time. Boo-yah.

But I'm still playing catch-up--and part of me thinks that I'll be playing catch up until the end of the semester.


A spring break would be nice. Heck, another three-day weekend would be nice.


But days like today make me realize that none of that really matters though. After this week, school will be completely done in less than four weeks! Only a little over six weeks, and I'll be in Africa! This weekend, I'm going to the Festival of Colors and an afterparty with a friend. Next weekend, I'm going to see Fun. in concert! And I'll be turning the big ol' 21 before the end of this month.


There is so much living to do- I've got 4.5 weeks to finish off this semester with a bang.


Good gosh, I love sunshine.


In other news, you want to hear what I've been kicking back to lately?

Well, folks, that was Just You and Me by Zee Avi. And one more--Something in the Water by Brooke Fraser.

So good.
Be happy.
That's all.

color esperanza

I love this song. Every time I hear it I think of Guadalajara, Mexico.

I remember learning it in a tiny classroom.
I remember singing it almost every other day in class after that.
I remember dancing with Brad and the other boys in the group to this song...still in that little classroom.

Lauralee and I would listen to it all the time in our room.
We told Gabriel and Alejandro that it was our new favorite song, and Gabriel told us we had good taste. It was also his mom's favorite song.
All four of us would sing it in Alejandro's car as we roadtripped it to Chapala and other little Mexican towns.

We listened to it our last night there.
And then we had to go back to the States.

But Lauralee made it her alarm for the entire next semester.
And one of the times we skyped with Gabriel and Alejandro, we sang this song to them.
They thought it was pretty great.

I miss those two boys.
I miss Mexico.

What I wouldn't give for another night with Lauralee, Gabriel, and Alejandro right now. Tacos de la calle + salsa dancing. Churros + water fights. Miradores + car rides. Good friends + good times.

We've kind of all started to go our separate ways now. Gabriel is studying in Monterrey, Alejandro just started a new career, Lauralee is going on a mission to Guatemala, and I'm just studying away here at BYU. But when we skype each other, we've still got all the same inside jokes and nothing's changed.

They tell us we're fresa, and somehow we still tell them that they're a "big deal." They think it's pretty funny, but they tell us we've got that right. And they promise us that if we ever come back, they'll take us to Tarrascos and then out to dance. After they get us soaked.

And that's why every time I hear that song, I start to smile and I can't even help it.
Some things are too good to be forgotten.