Stress for stress' sake

I'm becoming Bridezilla.

Don't worry—you didn't miss anything.

I'm not engaged —

just the editor for the Bride's Guide produced here at BYU—I.

Which is pretty ironic, considering that the part I dread most about the possibility of one day getting hitched is the whole wedding fiasco.

I could care less about flowers or cakes or centerpieces, and planning makes me anxious.

If there is anything that is possibly more painful than planning a wedding, it's planning a magazine about planning weddings.

Today we had the photo shoot for the cover. I was stressed out about it for a number of reasons. One, because this is the first cover of the Bride's Guide that was shot specifically to be a cover, and not just something a nice photographer is letting us use. It really has no general precedence, so a lot of the ideas and process were from scratch. Secondly, this is the first magazine cover I've really had to plan and make happen. A cover everyone will see.

And remember how planning makes me anxious?

Between trying to figure what props, etc. we needed, getting dresses from a local bridal shop, trying to line up times, photographer, reserving a studio, I was ready to go into a coma.

And what's worse is that I allowed myself to become crazy because of all of it. I'm not a detail person, so details?

They drive me crazy.

And somewhere between picking out fonts and deciding on a concept for the cover, the details jammed up my synapses and I morphed into Bride's-Guidezilla.

Finally, today we are in the studio. Our model, Meredith, is cooperative, sweet and fun. She's a recently-returned missionary, and totally gorgeous in the dress: a simple sheath, free of embellishment, the flares at the bottom, with an almost pearlescent sheen.

Joey snaps away taking pictures; after a moment, they appear on the screen. They look great; better than I'd imagined.

On the inside I sigh, glad to actually be doing instead of just planning and fussing. It's a relief to finally see the project.

And I realized that only about half the stressing I did actually helped lead me to this product. The rest of it was just me worrying and fretting over things that were unimportant or outside of my control.

When it comes down to it, I know that the magazine will go to print in a week and a half looking totally fabulous, and it won't be because I stressed about it. Actually, it probably won't even be because of anything I did (or didn't) do.

How about you? What things do you needlessly stress over or worry about?

The beauty is the blur.

Sometimes, you stand still.

You just stand, or slump. you sit. you throw your head back and reach out to the sky.
You curl up, knees to chin, arms securely around.
You pose defiantly, legs sturdy and hands firmly on hips.

The world swirls around you in a blur:
your life
Passing.

Recently, it has been that way for me.
Days streak past me.
Not a bad thing in itself, but it makes it easier to miss out on the good things.

Standing still, watching everything move around me, it is dizzying.
I hardly know sometimes what to make of things.
I see a flash of color, and while I try to decide what it was, three more splash by me.

But maybe its not so much about organizing my life, knowing what each speeding streak means. Knowing where it is going or why it came.
Could those be as beautiful if I organized them, sorted them out?
Hung them up on a clothesline for all to see,
Or placed them carefully in individual boxes?

Where would the Life be in that?

Maybe it is less about knowing, and more about observing, and enjoying.
Noticing each shape, hue, rich- or flatness.
Letting each splash in turn, have its time
To be beautiful.

And so,
For now,
I trust that know matter why these streaks came, or where they are going
or what picture all these flashing colors will someday form
that no matter what magic they weave around me:

The sum
the whole
they someday will form, the glory these splashes hint at
will be so much more miraculous than
any of these
small
parts.

My butt = in gear

Today was just what I needed: a swift kick of get-off-your-but-and-do-something. I got up at around 9:30, showered and got ready. Then I headed over to the Scroll office and helped with the production. The lead (the journalism world's equivalent of a hook in writing) needed some work, and I also wanted to get more experience on the producing end of things. I turned in an application to be a assistant editor for next semester and would really love to get that position.

I worked on the layout of my page, and also the layout of another. I formatted them both, came up with titles, and other exciting stuff, and got them passed off. It was so satisfying. I really enjoyed the whole process, and seeing the work that goes into finalizing the paper will definitely help me be a better writer.

After I finished there, I met up with Jake and we studied in the library for a few hours. I go a lot done, and although I know it will probably be a week of working hard before I am back to where I want to be, I know it will be worth it. And I feel good just knowing that I have started.

driving myself crazy

My alarm went off, the semi-cheery chorus of Psapp's "Hi" waking me. I groggily silenced it a couple times, then managed to drag myself out of bed. I lumbered around, ate a banana and was just about to start doing my hair when a sudden thought made my stomach lurch: I forgot to take that Spanish test. Yes, THAT test. The one that closed last night.

I frantically e-mailed my teacher, and she agreed to let me take it today and give me half credit for it. I did, and I think I actually did fairly well.

Still, I am furious with myself. So, so mad. 23+ points for that class, which is my toughest. Not what I needed.

And more than that is that I just know I haven't been working as hard as I should be. I have been working hard, but I could be doing more. I should be following the counsel of Pres. Gordon B. Hinckley when he said, "Just do the best you can, but be sure it is your very best."

Ah well. Tomorrow will be another day. Another week will come soon.
Hopefully I will get cracking a little more.

Some Nitty-Gritty Details.

In my previous post, I discussed the challenges and blessings that have come with being back up at school.
But, apparently, you guys (Janelle) didn't want to hear vague statements or sweeping generalizations.
No, you wanted details. The juicier, the better.

So, seeing that I am such a people pleaser, I decided to oblige. Following are some details about my life up here in Rexburg.

Weather:
It is pretty darn cold, but there is not nearly as much snow as there was last year. It's only snowed a couple times since I've been up here. I am kind of glad about this, but come on. This "all or nothing" business is a bit extreme. Plus, the Idahoans need the moisture!
Also, the snow melts and makes a lot of ice. Good for shoe skating.

Classes:
-I love my British Literature teacher. He is very entertaining, and has fun being in class. He has gone off on several amusing tangents, including a long story about why his dog got itself impregnated, and it is the worse dog in the world, among other things. We also had a lengthy discussion another class period about whether his shirt was pink or just "light red" (it was totally pink).
-My Spanish class is going really well! I currently have a 99.48%, so go me! The teacher I have now I also had for Spanish 101, and she is a great, and her teaching style really works for me.
-Orchestra is great; we are playing the IV Movement of Dvorak's Symphony no. 9 New World. I swear, I didn't know it was possible to actually record that kind of majesty, but it is. Give it a listen.
-My Music Appreciation class is fun, as well. My teacher is pretty laid back, and hey, I get to listen to a bunch of music, go to live concerts on campus, and get credit for it all. Hello, awesome!
-My Book of Mormon class is also really good (aren't religion classes always good, though?). One of our first assignments was to write a paper outlining one area of our lives that we wanted to improve on. I chose selflessness; I would really like to experience having more of that ultimate Christ-like quality.

Roommates/Apartment Life:
I am really loving my apartment! It was a bit quiet at first, and us roomies didn't interact a lot at first, but it has really warmed up and we have a lot of fun together.
-Last night: OH THE DRAMZ. Kirsti and Deborah (they were good friends, and now share a room) got in a fight! Kirsti was joking around, pushing Deb's buttons, but then Deb actually got upset and threw a loaf of bread at Kirsti, who threw it right back and followed it up with a bottle of cranberry juice (which consequently exploded all over the floor). It was INTENSE. AND CRAZY.
And pretty hilarious, really.
They made up later, as well, so it was all good.
-Kirsti and I have been working out together! We've gone to a step class a few times, and which are actually a lot of fun! Kirsti is from Texas, and LOVES animals. She watches Animal Planet all the time, and says at least once a day how much she misses her dog. She is pretty fun, but also a pretty focused person.
-Deborah cut my hair, and it actually looks SO FLY. It is now shorter in the back, and longer in the front. I'll take a pic and post it soon. So, yes, Deb does hair, and is in school for Auto Mechanics. She is from South Carolina is totally a country girl. She's sweet and nice.
-Paris has her room to herself (since Tess ended up not coming up). She is SO nice, and is pretty quiet. She is totally fun to hang out with though, because she laughs at me and thinks I'm funny. She is trying to get into the Nursing Program here right now.
-Jennifer is my roommate, and she is totally cool. She is tall (6'2"), and half Native-American, half Honduran. She is also a direct descendant of Sittin Bull. Cool, right? She has the biggest heart, and we have a lot of fun together. She makes a honking noise when she blows her nose and it is amazing!

What's New:
- I am writing for the school newspaper now! It is called the Scroll, and I had thought about getting involved in it, but was afraid I wasn't qualified or it would be too hard. It was funny, though, the subject kept popping up from different people. For example, I met this guy and we were introducing ourselves (his name was Russell), and almost right away he asked if I was interested in getting involved in any school publications (he does a lot of advertisment stuff with the school). I told him I was, and just had to laugh on the inside, wondering how he could have known! He encouraged me to go talk to someone in the i-Comm office, so I did, and voila. I was writing for the Scroll! It was almost disappointingly easy.
In any case, I wrote my first article and turned it in yesterday. I will post a link when it goes up on the paper's website.
-I have this totally obnoxious and ridiculous crush on a guy in Orchestra. He plays the bass, and he is so. good. looking. Seriously, I forgot what it was to be this attracted to someone. He is either a 1-2 or a 2-1, I think, and has the squinty eyes a la Robert Ashworth.
Yesterday I was helping put chairs away after class. He was standing next to the stack of chairs and offered to put up the two I was carrying. My heart dropped down to sphincter, I'm pretty sure. I let him, and that probably would have been that, but I somehow (thanks to a pep talk on Sunday by Ashley, centered around putting myself out there more) got up the courage to introduce myself. His name is Jacob, and he was even thoughtful enough to clarify whether my name is spelled with an "A" (which, as you know, it is not).
It was a small victory--but a victory nonetheless!--and I walked away grinning from ear to ear.

transitioning...

It has been a whole official week since the beginning of classes, and I must say that I am enjoying my time here at BYU-Idaho. Which is a relief. While I was constantly looking forward to being up here again the entire time I was in Las Vegas, I was still nervous.
Would me roommate be a "Me-Monster"?
What if my workload was crazy hard?
Would I get a lot of chances to meet new people?
What if the people I already knew didn't want to talk to me?
What if the testing center wouldn't let me in because of my crazy red hair?
What if my crazy red hair scared off potential dates?

I felt overwhelmed my first couple of days, which I realize is normal, but that doesn't make it any better to experience. (It actually peeves me when I am discouraged or frustrated and people tell me it's "normal" to feel that way. How exactly is that supposed to make me feel better? But I digress). I have also felt oddly anxious about most everything; usually I am pretty easy-going, and get things done as they come, make friends and meet people as I go. So feeling anxious or worried about anything really isn't my style. I am particularly concerned about falling behind in school. I guess this does cause me to be more motivated to get work done, i is not very enjoyable. I much prefer being motivated by pretty much anything, rather than fear. I'm kind of missing my old, leave-it-until-later, pull-it-together-at-the-last-minute self.
It's kind of hard not to feel isolated, as well, when you are living with four perfect strangers, your family and friends are ten hours away, and even if you wanted to talk to them you couldn't because you forgot your phone charger, and sadly enough, your phone does not run off of chewed up fingernails. I rely so much on my family, it can feel very hard to be apart from them for any amount of time.
So, in summary, I was kind of thrilled to be here, but my excitement was more a vague haze I could feel floating around on the other side of anxiety, loneliness, and something close to panic.

Still, even though transition are most always awkward, this one has been relatively smooth. While being up here isn't quite how I pictured or would have liked, I have noticed that I have many moments of clarity and joy. I feel more vivacious, and I have moments in which I truly relish life. Taking the time to notice the little, simple things; that is where the joy lies. When I take time to be grateful for:

-the sound of snow crunching beneath my feet,
-the smell of my vanilla lotion,
-being silly and having my roommates laugh along with me,
-the feel of my body, and how strong and good it is,
-tasting the health and flavor of food I cook for myself,
-the way that fog makes the world look peaceful and subdued.

...That is when I can feel and hear most clearly all the many ways Heavenly Father is telling me He loves me.
And I could never count them all.

Back in I.D.HO

So, as stated above, I am back in the frozen tundra that is Rexburg, ID. It is kind of bittersweet being up here. I miss my family already (although that is always to be expected). I came up without the lovely roommate I had been planning on, as Tess got engaged and stayed in CA. It has been weird, not knowing any of my roommates. In a lot of ways, I feel like I am starting over again. Like the previous year hasn't really passed, and that I am 18 again and this is the first time I've been away from home. It all feels surreal,but I know it'll all feel real soon enough.

Still, I am excited to be back up here. It has been awesome to get reconnected with the good friends I made up here last year. They are really fun to hang out with. I've also enjoyed being the "Elyssa" of Rexburg. It's easier for me to be outgoing and fun, to talk and chat with people, and to try new things. I think I am more authentic up here than in Vegas, in many ways.

Also, with classes starting in just a day, I have realized how actually and very close I am to graduating. Only four or five semesters; it definitely feels more doable. Puts it in perspective more, to realize that my time in college is, in fact, limited.
I really want these moments in my life to count. I want to prepare for what is to come, whether it is a career, marriage, writing, motherhood. It is so bizarre to think that all of those things are around the corner, that someday they really are going to happen. I feel like I've been getting too wrapped up in tomorrows. I want to enjoy the here and now as thoroughly as possible.
And I believe it is very possible.
This is it, this is my life.
And, by golly, I am loving it.

Faith.

It is something I am trying to learn more of. I thought I was doing pretty okay with it. Was doing alright with the whole, pray-study-ponder thing. I figured my faith had grown a lot up at college, in leaps and bounds. Me and my faith, we were pretty strong. Ready for most everything.
And then I came home from college.

It seems silly to me to sit here saying that coming home from BYU-Idaho has been so hard. I mean, I was going to a great school, and then came home to an even better family. Hard life, huh?
But, oddly, it was. I guess I had all these expectations of how it would be and what would happen. I was going to get a job that paid well and gave good hours. I was going to be part of a totally awesome singles' ward and dominate the social scene. Boys would be falling over themselves to date me! My family would be so strung out with elation over my triumphant return that, well, they simply wouldn't know what to do with themselves. I would practice the cello! Learn the guitar! Paint! Write! Show the world what I was meant to do.
And then, I came home. I didn't have a bedroom. All my plans for getting a job fell flat. My singles' ward turned out to be awkward. I've been on a total of one date. And, I have all this free time, but what to do with it? I sat around for many hours. Re-watched all 4 seasons of the Office. Wasted a lot of time.

Which is how I got to where I was last night. On the way to pick up Britt from work, I thought about how I had spent my day. I had promised myself that I would get my bedroom and bathroom clean; both still lay in gross disarray. I had watched the Bee Movie "on demand"--and by myself. I had eaten a entire half of a frozen pizza by myself, in one sitting. The thoughts were all pretty dismal.
And then Brittany gets into the car and asks me: "So, what did you do today?" aaaand I kind of lost it. Started crying. Pretty intensely, too. I don't think Brittany really knew what to do. I was just so--MAD at myself! When we got home, of course, Mom and Dad wanted to know what was wrong. Dad offered a blessing, which I accepted, gladly. Then we had a nice, long talk. I prayed and went to bed feeling much better.

I woke up this morning, eyes all puffy still. Sigh. Got ready for my first day of work (at Tilly's! seasonally! minimum wage!). Eyes still looked puffy. And they kept looking and feeling that way all day, reminding me of all the things I had to think about and ponder on. And I had some inspirations.
I was reminded of Matthew 6:24-34. It's a particularly poetic excerpt from Christ's sermon on the mount (you can read the whole thing here). But, I will quote verses 31-34.

"31 Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed?
32 (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things.
33 But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you.
34 Take therefore no thought for the morrow; for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof."

Maybe the whole not-getting-a-real-full-time-job-thing is a blessing. Not even really in disguise. I mean, I have loads of free time. More than I know what to do with. Something that so many would fall over themselves to have a li'l mo of in their lives.
More than that, though, there is a reason I need to have a complete overload of it in my life right now. I know that the Lord has something great, something important He wants me to do with it. It might be something different each week, or it might be a lot of little somethings each day, or it might be one big something from now until the time I head back up for school. I don't know, and I decided: I don't have to! I just need a bit of faith, enough to take the step I'm feeling right about, and that will be good. That will be enough.
And also, I don't need to know and figure out exactly how my schooling will get paid for. It will because it's where I want to be, and where Heavenly Father wants me to be. It is right. It will happen. I know that.
I guess my lesson right now is not to worry that I'm not "toiling" or "spinning" as much as I should be or think I should be, or whatever. But to just have faith. Trust that the Lord will reveal to me all things that I should be doing, if I will keep a clear mind and an open heart to receive what He has to tell me.
And trust that, as I allow myself to be more of what God created me to be, that I will know what to do, and that He will feed me and guide me. Just as He does the fowl of the air and the lilies of the field.
And all it takes to start is a little more Faith. Maybe only a mustard-seed's worth more than I had yesterday. But just that tiny bit.
And the rest will follow.

Some fun things.

So I have been crazy busy, it feels like. I have a pretty good workload going in all of my classes; I sincerely hope it doesn't get much more intense because that will not be a party. In any case, I'm staying (mostly) caught up, and I'm having fun. I did a cool face painting in my design and color class; I will have to scan it and post it here. I have also been writing some fun stuff in Creative Writing, which I'll post a little later.
So I had my first date of the semester last Friday night with Drew. He told me he was interested in me, and I assured him I shared the sentiment. We have hung out every day since. He is way cool and chill aaaand I like him. I'm having fun getting to know him. Also, he is a great hand-holder.

Anyway!
Here they are.

Bedtimes
Of the few rooms in our house, the room I was most fond of was the room I was least allowed. It appeared a vast room, filled with adult apparatus: an ironing board, my father’s briefcase, my mother’s sky blue slip that, at the time, I associate with princesses or figure skaters, but would later realize to be lingerie. But more than this, the room felt larger than it was because it was filled with a sense of love and safety, more at times than it seemed possible for it to hold. I was sure at times that if I ran a finger across a piece of furniture it would deposit a film of affections upon its tip, that if I lifted the bed skirt I would see that feeling collected in the corners like so many dust bunnies. While it permeated our entire home, my parent’s bedroom seemed the source.

Still, it was their sanctuary, a place they attempted to keep to themselves, which, of course, proved fruitless more times than not. Some of these times were lazy Sunday mornings; bleary-eyed, one of the younger kids would stumble in, scramble on the bed. Dad would grumble half-heartedly that it was too early, and couldn’t we just go back to bed on the one morning a week he got to sleep in? But he only pretended to mind so much, and they would snuggle up to Mom and wait for her to rise and cook breakfast. That child was inevitably followed by another, and soon my parent’s bed would be covered in squirming bodies and laughter.

Most often we would congregate in the evenings. Arrayed in pajamas, a tooth brush hanging out of a mouth or two, we would each settle into our spots of preference. My favorite was the strong crook of my father’s arm, where I could rest my head on his chest and listen to his breathing, his voice originating and reverberating in his ribs. If this spot was unavailable (as it often was), I would contentedly settle for sprawling across the foot of the king bed, head and arms hanging off, fingering the lighter spots in the carpet where some small one (could it have been me?) had tried to bleach it. Then, all would grow still as my mother or father cracked the spine of some thrilling tale: The Yearling, The Little House on the Prairie, The Mouse and the Motorcycle, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia. We were all carried to a world where nothing existed but that room, its maroon carpeting, white walls, and mismatched furnishings. And the air above us sparkled with imagining, dreams, adventures, pixie dust exhaled by the steady voices of our parents.

Spring Song
Two girls sit on a patch of grass that stretches across the center of a courtyard. The buildings that surround it enclose students in classrooms and lectures, busy taking notes or drifting off. These girls will soon join them, but for now they sprawl on the grass, heads close, eyes shut against the bright glare of the spring sun. The grass prickles their necks and bits of exposed midriff. It smells crisp and sweet, like apples. The air is fresh and breezy, cooling their sun-warmed skin.

The girls don’t speak; after a minute or so, lazy, light chords waft up through the air, sprouting like so many indolent daisies from the ukulele one of them holds. Feet tick in time, corners of mouths twitch up. An airy voice starts to sing of the world, trees, and bees, its owner moving her head, eyes still closed. One girl strums, the other sings; together they form the song, the sound for which this spring day so longed.