"you cease to amaze me"

since i got my hair cut like an idiot last december, i have been trying to urge my hairgrowth along as gently but urgently as possible. i think i've made some good progress, considering i've gone from this

to this

to this.

congratulations to me.

after many, many months of not wearing my hair curly, i've lately began dreaming again of long, loose waves. so this morning i decided to bust out the curling iron.

big mistake.

i think i lost at least three inches off my hair by curling it. what the heck do you even call that look?! who knows. who. even. knows.

so, after 25 minutes of quality curling time, my hair ended up in a ponytail in defeat.

hate when that happens. so. much. hate.

my biggest wish

there are a few things i wish for on a regular basis.

the most important of these things is my wish for somebody to offer to give me a ride to work.

this happened on a very regular basis in idaho. and do you know what? i really liked it. this does not happen in utah. probably because (a) parking sucks, (b) i don't have a fiance, and (c) i have no roommates who go to campus.

am i my father's daughter? i am. does it show? probably not. because my father is all "if you're cold, go exercise!" "if you're tired, go exercise!" "if you can't concentrate, go exercise!" and when i moved to king henry (a solid 25 minute walk from the tanner building where i work) he said, "oh that's great! you can get some of your exercise in walking to class!" i am ashamed to admit that i walked to class exactly zero times that entire semester. it's not because i don't think my dad is on to something when he always says "go exercise!" cause i do, and i like my exercise just as much as the next girl. the thing is, though, i really value my sleep very highly, and waking up 20 minutes early is so far from worth it that i couldn't even make it happen once.

and guess what? i wish somebody would offer to drive me to work. first of all because it's a 15 minute walk and sometimes i get bored on my walk, and second of all because sometimes at 7:45 in the morning my legs are tired and all i can think is how much i would love (lovelove) to still be back in bed.

so.

things change.

when i was in high school, i took ap lit and comp. i loved every day of it. i was good at it. we had a thick book full of essays called the norton reader that was the bane of everybody's existence.

everybody's except mine, that is. i loved that book. i loved reading the formative ideas of important philosophers. i loved marking the pages up. and i loved writing analytical essays. we were expected to complete a 5-7 page reading journal on each essay. i was fast. a 5-7 page paper? easy. give me thirty minutes, no problem. A. done. next, please.

writing was my thing, everybody knew that. i loved it, and it was easy. i declared my major as english, looking forward to a future of spitting papers out effortlessly and seeing A after A on the top of my papers for the rest of my student life.

fast forward two years and three changes of my major. before spring semester, i hadn't written an analytical paper since english 251 my freshman semester of college. i just finished a six page midterm paper on plato's the republic. it took four hours, and i still need to proof-read it, probably twice. it's due at midnight and i'm tired of it. and now i get to write a four-page paper on the iliad and the epic of gilgamesh and oedipus the king.

i'm frustrated. i'm frustrated because i used to be so good at writing and now i struggle with it. i'm frustrated because i had a talent and it doesn't come naturally to me anymore. i'm frustrated because i really, really want an A in this class, but i just don't feel like my brain is wired to read and analyze books anymore. and i'm frustrated because i'm only 19 years old but i feel like i have sacrificed part of my potential.

i used to write in my journal unceasingly. literally. i was glued to my journal. now, i write in my journal once or twice a week. my entries aren't funny, entertaining, insightful, or cunning. they're (brief) summaries of what has happened to me and how i have responded to it. writing a blog post makes my brain work. writing an email feels like it will make my brain explode.

i know that trying new things out is part of growing up. but i wish i hadn't wasted my time doing things that i thought would make me happy. i have strong feelings towards mentally challenged people. working with them at some point in my life would be incredibly fulfilling and i hope to have that opportunity. but right now, at this point in my life, i wish i hadn't spent my time learning about how to be a teacher. i wish i had been spending my time learning how to be taught, how to learn. i feel like i am having to learn all over again what i want in life. i feel like i am having to relearn how to study, how to push myself, how to focus, how to write.

i don't like it.


my journal last week. since my brain doesn't work.

it was a good day for a craft

sometimes it just needs to be craft time, yes?! yes.

so yesterday i set to work. i want an easel. i don't have an easel. but maybe in mine and aubrey's [freaking adorable] new townhouse i will have room for an easel in our robins egg blue loft room. (please, august 17, please come faster.)

this is my craft.

step one: make a stencil with an exacto knife and some tagboard. do not forget to keep the insides of the letters.

step two: get the paints and canvas and adhesive the tagboard to the canvas. paint.

step three: love it.

i'll fix the smudges tomorrow. i'm just a little too excited about it right now.

on another note, i'm getting used to my name, which we all know i have not always loved. today while sitting in humanities (which is 4:00-6:30 twice a week in the basement of the jfsb which means no internet and no cell phone service and no i am not kidding. i promise i don't spend all of class on the computer, mom, but the thing is that is a long long time to listen to a teacher talk about greek gods without a few self-imposed breaks..) i realized that my name is perfect for the things i like right now, which include floral prints, this color, and pretty things. so, i like my name now. mostly because i think this is a perfect dress for an amy, and i really, really like this dress:

ps it's my birthday in 20 days. so feel free to get this dress for me. thanks so much.

different trips, different trains

there's something about academic tradition that makes me want more. i felt it on the university of virginia campus last month and i felt it again today at my brother-in-law's commencement. in virginia, it felt like education was a way of life, not just the means to a career. today, it felt like education was the gateway to the rest of the world.

my dream in high school was cornell. i loved cornell. i loved the library and the campus and the history. i dreamt of cornell. i saw myself at cornell. i wanted cornell. but in the end, i went to byu-idaho instead, not because it had a great library or a killer campus or the kind of academic history that cornell has, but because it was similar in size and it was something nobody in my family had ever done..and it cost about a tenth as much as cornell.

love

in retrospect, i wish i had understood myself better in high school. i loved byu-i. i loved the area and the people and the classes. but i didn't get what i wanted from college. i haven't felt like i had to work since my first semester. i didn't have homework, i rarely studied, and i didn't stretch my brain. instead, i made clouds out of cotton balls and did handwriting tests and bit nilla wafers to illustrate the phases of the moon. (i get that part of that was my major, which is why i've also changed my major.)

that's part of why i chose to transfer to byu: i want to work. i want to study and i want to learn something and i want to push myself. breaking off my engagement changed me. it made me realize what i want and who i want to be. some people are lucky. it's right for them to find the love of their life at age 19 and get married and start a family. but i'm lucky, too. because right now, i have the world at my fingertips. i can do whatever i want.

and i want byu to be my gateway to the world. i want to go to cornell to get my mba. i want to put on a robe and get my master's and be as educated as i can. so i'm going to. i'm going to be part of that tradition of academia.

and i can hardly wait.

nicknames

i've always been jealous of people who have nicknames.

my little sister's name is brianna. most people call her bri. i call her bee, or bria, or bri.

people whose names are zachary or wesley are fortunate, because they are called by their nickname most of the time, which makes their full names kind of special.

megans and chelseas are lucky, because their names quickly turn in to megs and chels. it rolls of the tongue. it belongs there.

my name is amy. my dad calls me amy lou. my best friend's mom called me amy jean the jelly bean. my grandma calls me aimmers. some peple call me aims. but for the most part, i am amy.

some names shorten easily. webster's dictionary defines nicknames as "a familiar form of a proper noun." nicknames are familiar. they imply that the full name is said so frequently that it is no longer necessary.

i wish my name had more nicknames.

i want.

i think sperry's are attractive. especially on boys. but also on girls. and that is why i want these shoes:

cute? i think yes.