A Beginning

It is 12:57 and in exactly 12 hours and 43 minutes, I will be on a plane to Edinburgh. Well, technically Chicago, but on my way to Edinburgh. This blog has lain dormant for so long that I thought a study abroad may be motivation enough for its resurrection. I will be spending the next two months of my life mostly in Scotland, England and Wales studying literature on the England and Literature study abroad program. (Yes Lanée. English Literature.)

No I am not going on the London Study Abroad. No, I'm not staying in the London center. If I were going on the London Study Abroad program, I would have said that in the first place. I am going to Britain. We are spending only ten days in London. Instead, we are spending the majority of our time out in the country. We are staying in hostels. Yes, those sketchy places that I probably will have everything I have ever owned stolen from me if I don't sleep with my suitcase in my bunk. No, I probably don't know your friend going, because there are about a million study abroads to England. No, I will not wear one of those fanny packs under your clothes to keep my passport and wallet in. And yes, please email me. I would love that.

I will be seeing places like this soon:

Doing things like this soon:

and embarrassing myself at places like this soon:

I am very excited to see these beautiful places, spend time in a culture that has influenced my own so much, hopefully cast aside my preoccupation with not being a tourist, and probably once again learn that I am, in fact, an idiot and have a lot that I need to learn.

An End

The semester's drawing to a close and I feel it necessary to draw attention to a few of the landmarks that have happened in my life, and say thank you for them.

Thank you Liberty Square, for helping me adjust to Provo culture including things like: socializing, wearing attractive clothes more often, socializing, showering more often, and socializing.

Thank you Sara H, for making me run the half-marathon last month. It was my first, and the longest I have ever run in my life. Thank you for waiting at the porter-potty with me at mile four, and then running up and down the pathway yelling "avert your eyes!" and "don't look to the right!" when I had to pop a squat in the woods next to the path since there were no porter-potties. twice.

Thank you Sara S, for walking to the duck pond that one time with me, and leading a dozen ducks across the street, and stopping traffic, and letting people get mad at us, and getting embarrassed, and feeling totally powerful. And thank you at midnight that night when we saw a flattened duck on the road for wanting to have a funeral for it with me.

Thank you Heidi for a lot of Pizza.

Thank you Jane for letting me try to take care of you when you got low. And for holding hands with me that one night during our entire walk. And for driving a half hour away just to eat at Paradise Bakery. Twice.

Thank you Kelli for that one night when I slept in Jane's bed and we talked for a long time and for listening to me when I talk. I'm sorry that sometimes I forget to listen to you. It's just that I get so excited about what we're talking about that my brain jumps from something you said to something I'm thinking. Probably not the politest thing.

Katie J, you're my idol.

There are a few other things that were significant landmarks, but this post is getting long. There are a lot of other things that I should have mentioned also, and important people, so I will probably continue this later.

But, in the meantime, I will say adieu to this past year of good friends, fun, hard work, crazy nights at the apartment, and a lot a lot of learning in many aspects of life.

Still debating on this blog's fate...

I have gotten no less than four requests for the continuation of my blog. I have been debating. For a long time whether or not to keep my blog, how I feel about the blogging world in general, and if my writing would be better suited for my desktop or journal. But, fortunately, and I admit, very surprisingly, people are interested in things that I have to say. At least a few people. Which is actually ironic because people stop listening to me after about two minutes. Maybe it's my voice.

Spacing Out

One time my dad told me that I was observant, and that's why he thinks I'm a good writer sometimes. What I later realized, is this means most of the time I am staring at people, objects, or nothing in particular, noticing things that are probably amusing to no one except myself. Then very clever people wave their hands in front of my face to show me they have discovered I have lost consciousness and the only way to know I am revived is if I smile and laugh and ask them if I was spacing out again. But usually I have not lost consciousness, I am thinking.

Observant Nothings this week/month:

Most people improve upon acquaintance. Unfortunately, there are exceptions.

Also, (unrelated to the above) last week during a car ride in southern Utah, some friends informed me that it is not normal to still get shampoo in the eyes during a shower at the age of eighteen. They laughed when I told them that I occasionally have to pull back the shower curtain and rub my eyes with my towel. A friend who will remain nameless said the last time he got soap in his eyes, was when he was about four. This morning I took a shower for the first time since that conversation, and I got shampoo in my eyes no less than five times, having to close them from the pain and rinse off soapy fingers to try to wipe the foam away. Maybe I just lather my shampoo too aggressively.

I like jumping off of high things. I jumped off a forty-five foot cliff at Lake Powell.

Last month after I took my last test of the semester in the testing center, I was walking back to helaman halls. As I walked on the sidewalk that forces you to go all around an annoying fence as you go toward the maeser building and back toward the street, a guy jumped over the fence and kept walking. I had contemplated doing this very thing many times before. All at once I wanted to jump over the fence too. He would see me and realize that we were both fence-jumpers, and no words were needed to express our compatibility, and then we would fall in love. Then I looked down and realized I was wearing a skirt. Then I walked around the stupid fence and went home. People probably would have thought I was spacing out then too if they had seen me. I guess I just look stupid when I'm thinking. Or like I've passed out.