Warning: Miley reference...
That was me today. Minus the iffy parts.
It was my first day of school. I really wanted to bring a tin lunch pale and I even asked my roommates to write love notes on my napkins. I was in a complete state of panic last night at around midnight. I didn't know what to bring! I haven't been to school in 2 years! Finally in my half asleep state of 40% panic, 60% let me dream about jim halpert, my neighbor shouted from the couch to the balled up girl on the love sac to not bring my backpack. Fine. You win today Jeff. But tomorrow, my beautiful Hurley houndstooth backpack is my wingman.
So I had wonderful plans of leaving early to secure a parking spot. Wrong. I have an unconscious habit of turning off my alarm in the dead of sleep and not even remembering. Pet peeve doesn't even describe it. So I hurried, put on my sweats and uncle peter's catalina boating championship tshirt, threw my hair up, said my prayers, saw my hot roommate in her towel after laughing on the ground at her having to take a freezing shower due to no hot water still, woke up kris for the first day of school mommy hug, grabbed my new "chill, drive to school" cd mix and hoped for the best.
Sidenote: Why oh why do girls dress up for school? I do not get that. I'm not about to wear my pajamas to school, but I'll leave the skirt, juicy jewelry, poofed hair, heels, lipstick, and snotty attitude at home. I will never understand. I was about to call it quits when like a flash of hope, I saw a group of girls walking up the hill in their basketball shorts, yoga pants, white v-necks, sports shirts, pony tails, etc. Finally- my people. I was good to go.
So I end up having to park in the overflow institute parking. This wasn't even the boonies parking. This was in the chapel parking lot across from the boonies. Wow. Well, happy day, I don't need a gym membership because I'm on my way to a butt of steel and legs Heidi Klum would drool over. Watch out girl. The walk to campus wasn't bad. Slight sweating, slight panting, tons of texting. Thank you Garrett. Once again, you saved me.
Then I saw my building. It was like a little dot on the horizon of forever. I quickly went over different scenarios in my head. "I'm sorry I didn't come to class, traffic was really bad." "Sorry, I haven't had hot water since Saturday and you and my peers really don't want to smell me; I'm really doing you a favor." "Sorry, I just realized I live in Utah and fainted in the parking lot." "Sorry but I forgot my oxygen tank to get me up these hills." No. Go Nicole. I kept walking. Hill after humungous hill, I finally made it to my building.
It was like my classroom was wearing Harry's cloak of invisibility. It took me 20 minutes to find it in the building. I repeatedly thought to myself, "There better be a hunk of cheese at the end of this maze." Finally I found it! Not so fast. The douche of all Utah was befriending me in the hallway. He would really like to take me to dinner. Really? Do I look that miserable? Go ask the girl talking to the wall on the other side of the hallway for her number. She surely HAS to be more lonely than me. That's it. Tomorrow I wear makeup. I practically run into my class, an all eyes are on me. NO! I hate that. I'm just standing there like a sweaty idiot and the teacher annoying asks me if I want a chair. No, I would like to stand for two hours in a concrete art room while the pink polo twins stare me down. She points to a chair in the back of the room and tells me to sit. I have to drag my sorry chair across the concrete floor screeching like a cat, squeeze in between who knows who and sit pretty and pretend I'm not sweating puddles as big as the Great Salt. Welcome to UVU. Welcome to Watercolor. Class one- done.
Finally, a break in the day. I say finally like I was there for hours. I came home, enjoyed the bounty of my diet coke and took a delicious nap...
No, not again! Alarm clock, we are officially fighting.
I know it had only been a couple hours, but I felt like a seasoned pro going to my other classes. It only takes a few wrong turns and weird smelling hallways to make you remember building layouts. I found my class. Sculpture I.
Immediately I felt at home. My teacher could be Garrett's twin. I took a deep breath and knew it would all be okay. He was a young teacher with amazing glasses that only he could pull off, talked to us like he was our friends, talked about him and his wife constantly, and made molding dirty clay with our hands in front of strangers feel like a party. Our first get to know you assignment- sculpt something symbolizing where you're from. I look around at everyone's sculptures. "This is heaven; This is my family tree; This is me on a wave with my flowing hair I made piece by piece; This is the state of Utah, complete with mountain ranges and the arch." Are they kidding me? I laughed out loud wondering if I could pull off rounding out a huge ball of clay, writing earth on it and presenting it proudly with a smile on my face. A wave of homesickness hit me and I wanted to be at the beach. So, I sculpted a pair of ray-ban sunglasses. Everything looked at me weird, but I owned it. They were amazing.
Off to my last class of the day. Graphic Design. Facebooked for a while, talked to my teacher about the most random things, made friends with the girls next to me, met a girl in my class from Murrieta, got really excited about my projects for that class, and suddenly it was time to go home to my cozy room and roommates.
The home teachers came over tonight for the first time. We chatted for a while; Found out Trevor is a writer- gasp, soulmate! Jon talked about his exercise science major, Katie's major as well. Perfect :) They asked if they could share a message. We eagerly sat up on the love sac and listened. "Parents should teach their children to pray. When trials come, that child will be prepared. In time when the children are away from home and family, prayer can provide the shield of protection the parent will want so much for them to have. Parting can be hard, particularly when the child and parent know they may not see each other for a long time."
Oh no. I felt it coming. The tears were filling my eyes, my cheeks burning, my head spinning, reality setting in. I quickly look at Kristin, the mommy of the apartment, and buried my head in my hands. "Um...her dad died on Saturday." I could hear the Ensign fall to the couch cushion and looked up at Trev and Jon with their eyes wide and filled with question and pain. We talked about life for a little while, and the Spirit spoke peace to my heart and reminded me once again that I'm supposed to be here. I think Heavenly Father knew I needed to hear that. The shock is being stripped away layer by layer, and realization is slowly seeping in. I haven't fully accepted it. But as I'm getting used to my new life, my old one is haunting me memory by memory. Last night, as my roommates and our new friends sat around the table at dinner, I looked around at the laughing faces, felt the squeezes of comfort on my hands, saw the hugs across our kitchen, watched the little miracles and acts of kindness and charity in our apartment and those in it, saw the hand of the Lord in the timing of my life, the friendships, the laughter, the growing and everything in between. I turned to Kristin, asked for a hug, and said to our table of friends, "I can't imagine how happy my dad is looking down upon me, seeing how blessed I am with all of you, hearing our laughter and seeing the smiles on our faces." Suddenly, I saw my daddy's face, with a big smile on it. It was the first night I've slept well since I moved here.
It's the little things that add up, and make the day seem a little brighter than you thought it would be.
