A College Student Now

I'm officially registered for Classes at UVU starting in the Fall.

I'm nervously excited and somehow happily scared.

I had an appointment with a school counselor today and with no knowledge of the campus I begged Jon to come with me. He obliged. When the meeting was over we walked through the halls together with Jon examining/sizing up the place.

He then concluded, "Well it seems like a pretty nice campus, the people do seem a little interesting. But I guess we are in the Liberal Arts Building... English people are weird." He gave me a sideways glance and squeezed my hand hoping get a good rise.

I just smiled and contentedly sighed, "yeah... we are weird"as I watched the girl in a Harry Potter shirt with unwashed hair light up as she discovered what was probably the perfect sentence to end her paper.

I then joined Jon in eating a mediocre pepperoni pizza while chugging awful caffeinated pop. Because I am after all a College Student Now.

Woot Woot.

Springtime?

Spring.
I seem to fall for you every year.
You appear, breath, and dye my heart different pastel colors.
And then, teasingly you stick your tongue out, pull down a cover of snow, and hide.
My red Toms that have been previously established as cheery, now are wet and angry. They keep asking me why I fall for your tricks.
I begin to defend myself and then I remember...
The single pair of socks shared between two sisters cold and unprepared feet for a week. It was April.
The morning I came upstairs to find my roommates lounging instead of class attending, when asked why they opened up the blinds. Snow blinded me. It was June.
You're right, I should have known better Red Toms.
As to you Spring, let's make a deal. You appear and stay for a while, and I'll promise to use you in all the proper ways. I'll picnic in light cardigans, smell the blooming flowers, and drive with the window rolled down.
Deal?

To be honest

Done with Glee's Agenda. Peace out.

daily reminder: I'm going to Mexico in FEBRUARY not tommorrow-bummer

Feels good to hear what kind of missionary my husband was.

Easter is blackened hotdogs and molly's devilled eggs

Don't know what to do with those nice things you said

recycled songs

missing my bright orange watch and pouch

measuring out my Hollandaise Sauce felt like death

"Want to watch an episode of Lie to Me?" or maybe 5?

Dear To Kill a Mockingbird,

I've held you before

breathed on your insides

and bent your corners.

But you were assigned and I was too young;

busy caring less.

My hands were fumbly and you were too delicate,

your words crumbled at my fingertips.

I'm sorry, it should have been grand.

Should have been.

And yet, you gave me a second chance

and this time it was different.

As I turned your pages, I felt steady and you stayed solid.

I cared more.

When your back met your cover in my hands I squeezed

and I felt you squeeze back.

I've been filled.

Filled with characters you made my friends,

the tug of Youth,

the love of innocence,

and the beauty of Life.

Now, I can place you deservingly on the top shelf of my mental bookcase

and say simply this,

Thank you for the second chance, it was Grand.

With Love,

Kelsey