Last Lectures

The ends of semesters are an interesting time for me. There's stress that comes with working on 5 different projects and papers at once, there's little sleep, and there's also hope for a respite from everything. But there are also goodbyes. I'm not good at goodbyes in general, and it's always hard to say goodbye to friends in classes. ELang is a relatively small major, and I see all the same people in most of my classes for the past year or two. We joke during class, share our stress about tests, find out little snippets about each others' lives, and in general, we get used to seeing each other every day. It's obviously not the same as your best friends or your family, but they are kind of like a support system from school.

I don't hang out with my school friends outside of school, mainly because I hang out with Aaron most of the time and my time is already limited with everything I am working on. But they are great people, and in some different time or place, I like to think we could be good friends. And yet after 3 or 4 semesters together, numerous homework assignments, and group projects, they go from being strangers to friends to what?

I have these great friends, and yet I usually don't have a poignant last phrase that summarizes our friendship, because it seems kind of dramatic and overdone. Instead I say, "See you later." I choose to believe we'll see each other again someday.

Last day of classes of winter semester. Phew.

Oh Utah

Look at this. This is campus today.

http://www.tout.com/m/hfpk8k

'Nuff said.

Frozen Victory

Seeing as this is my senior year, I'm having a lot of lasts. Last time to register for winter semester, last home football game, and so on. The last football game was one of the strangest games I've ever been to. We spent an hour before rehearsal that day scraping off the snow and ice off of our seats, slipped and slided across the practice field where we pretended to see the yard lines, and spent the rest of the game trying to avoid frostbite.

Despite the miserable feeling of not being able to feel your fingertips, it was a very silly game.

In the 3rd quarter, the camera flashed to the top section of the bleachers to show someone making a snow fort out all of the snow in the seats.

They showed some of the football players dancing on the field when they played the song "Gangnam Style."

In the 4th quarter, when we were up about 30 points or so, a line of our players jumped on their stomachs and slid into the end zone after a play had ended.

I think the cold did something to our brains! Made us all a little bit loopy. With people almost passing out from the cold and losing feeling in their appendages, I was busy enough all game long and didn't have any time to be sentimental about the impending end of marching band. It really wasn't until the very end of the game when were playing our traditional 5th quarter concert outside the stadium that I really started to think about it. It was around 11:30 p.m.; it was freezing cold and completely dark except for the spots where the streetlights shone through. It was snowing lightly in a pretty sort of way. There was something dreamlike about that moment, and I thought, This is another one of those ends. It's not that endings have to be sad, filled with tears or anguish, or even dread. Soon, I'm going to leave BYU. The moment lingered and passed.

Sloppy Rain and Birthday Wishes

Utah decided to start acting like it's winter today. You know the drill: gross rain that sloshes in your shoes as you walk through the puddles on campus, a shift to snow that creates even more puddles. Seriously, I don't even know where the sidewalks are amidst the sea of water.

Some people really love snow. I see them walking across campus, twirling in the sidewalks, tilting their heads backwards with laughter to catch the snow on their tongues, and giving a cheery "Happy Friday!" to everyone they pass. I am not one of those people. I'm the one with my knit hat, winter coat, and obnoxiously fluorescent umbrella, as I try to figure out the optimal degree to hold it so I won't get any snow on my face or my backpack. I don't like this kind of snow, the gross messy snow. I like the snow that falls into perfect, fluffy snow drifts and coats the tops of mountains. I like the snow that makes everything quiet and surrounds your house in a cozy little blanket. To be specific, I like snow when I'm not out walking in it. This snow we have now is loud and sloppy, obnoxious in its attempt to try to be fluffy and pretty like it should be. 

However, today is still a good day because it is my sister's birthday!

Look at the face. How can you help but love her?

2,000 miles on the opposite side of the country in the hip land of NYC, Allison is taking over the world as she landed her first real job this last week! (No, Jamba Juice and Chipotle don't count) I'm so proud of her!! Living with an ornery hedgehog and a wonderful illustrator, I am so happy to see the blessings in her life. It's coming up on their 1 year wedding anniversary---I can't believe it's been a whole year---and I know that this next year is going to be even better than the last. Wish I were there to celebrate with you!

Warm My Heart

I hate feeling cold. This is probably the point where you probably want to say, "Nice going choosing a college in Utah, Rachel." I tolerate the cold and normally, it tolerates me. However, there are those days where I wake up at 6:40 AM, shower and get ready for the day in my nice, warm apartment without much complaint. I've learned that I can force myself out of my toasty comforters only if I can remember that I get to take a nice long, hot shower right away. And then I look at my forecast on my computer: "20 degrees without the wind and don't forget that it's at least 10 degrees colder when there is no sun, there's a 80% of snow which is perfect timing now that both of your boots are broken, and one last thing, Rachel, you're going to FREEZE on your way to work this morning. Sucks, doesn't it?"

Begrudgingly, unwillingly, and often with a little despair, I suit up and don my warm hat, my glove/mitten hybrids, a warm scarf and my winter coat and with one last deep breath, I step outside.

Sometimes I get a little self-conscious walking around campus with my numerous layers. Mind you, I'm very content as every part of my body is pleasantly warm and yet, I see people walking around with shorts and a light jacket. What must they think when they see me, wearing every possible form of winter clothing possible, and probably still shivering a little. In reality, no one I pass could care less about how many layers I'm wearing. And yet, I can't stop myself from imagining what they're thinking.

• "Yeesh, overdramatic much? It's really not that cold out here."
• "Man up, little girl. Weakling."
• "Are you for real right now? Really? Really?"

I am not ashamed of my love of warmth. I think it all began with one of my best friends, Megan, who would blast her space heater in her room when we would spend hours pretending to study french vocabulary or memorizing responses to essays for AP US History. It was just so sweltering in there. I loved it. 

I love running home in the snow from church on Sundays and sprinting upstairs, shrieking all the way, and leaping underneath my comforters. I love the feeling of hot chocolate as it winds its way through my various intestinal passageways to rest in my stomach. I love curling up on my couch, wrapped in 3 different blankets, perfectly content as I read over a semester's worth of notes for Biology. 

Mm. Warm.

The Last Leaf

There I was, sitting on the lawn in front of the JKB on campus trying to think of a project to complete for my Biology class. I could think of nothing. My professor constantly berates us for losing our "Sense of Wonder" in the world but I can't help it if I don't walk around campus and sit watching ant colonies like my professor does. There was a point in my life where my cynicism must have overtaken my curiosity of  nature. It was probably about the point where we stopped watching Bill Nye the Science Guy in science classes and my sleep deprivation from seminary caused me to stop caring about everything for a while. 

There I sat, picking off pieces of grass and willing myself to care about something in nature. Something I could conduct an experiment on in the Provo area. I was about to give up when I looked up to see the mountains. Hm, I thought vaguely, the leaves are changing. I guess fall is really here now. Bam. It hit me. Why do leaves change? Are there certain factors in the trees themselves or their environments that cause them to change before other leaves? What causes the first shift in pigmentation?

The longer I sat there, the more I thought about how quickly this semester seems to be already flying by. We're already a month into the semester, midterms are creeping up maliciously, and I am beginning to check the temperature in the morning to decide what I'm going to wear that day. When did summer begin to bleed in fall and how long until winter bares down on us all? Is it really possible I'm in my sophomore year of college? How is possible that my sister, Allison, is going to be married in just 2 1/2 months? Has my friend, Kevin, really been on his mission in Japan for 11 months now? 

I had a conversation with someone yesterday that I've been thinking about today. When listening to a song in church, he commented that the most powerful part of the song was when the key modulated. It seems to be true for most songs that it's the sudden change that seems to strike a chord in us. (Pun intended) Isn't the same true about life in general? We can't stay in one moment of time nor should we ever want to. Things change so softly from day to day that it's sometimes hard to see the shift until you look at how different the colors of your leaves have become. 

Time seems to be slipping away in a strangely wonderful way.

I'm not sure that was what my Biology teacher intended me to get out of the Nature Experiment, but I think I'm starting to regain my Sense of Wonder. I think he'd be proud.