It's about 12:30 as I begin writing this. I meant to be in bed about 3 hours ago due to a migraine I could feel coming on. I still had dishes to wash and some floors to sweep and then my mom came home and we stayed up later. Excedrin was taken and caffeine began working. Migraine is gone and awake I stay.
Reuben isn't home yet. It's strange to me how he can function rather normally the next day after being out all night and then doing it again and again. Last night was his turn for family prayer, I took his place and then Stef said it tonight since he wasn't here. I wonder when he'll be home. The kitchen and dining room lights are on for him. I almost want to turn them off and hear him stumble on his way to his room just so I know when he gets in.
Sometimes I enjoy this caffeine-induced inability to sleep. I watch cars drive by on lonely roads and wonder where they are going. I don't like when cars drive in clusters. I get distracted by the several headlights and don't know what to think. They're unwelcome as I watch them pass. I lose track of their identities. Was it a truck or a van? Was he racing home or leaving? Is the family alright? Did her children go to sleep tucking themselves into their beds because Mother wasn't home?
When I was younger and I had difficulty sleeping I would find myself in our living room counting the cars driving down Ferry Road. And later as I grew a little older, I would find myself walking the streets of my neighborhood when I couldn't sleep wondering why people were driving passed me and where they were going so late and whose family was missing him or her.
I listen to the rush of cars down 3005. I would liken the sound to waves, speeding waves. Perhaps a recording of waves fast-forwarded to sound like cars rushing down 3005. Oh wait.
I'm not sure what to do. This drug-induced insomnia makes me feel alive. The near-silent black of night holds more magic for me than a sunrise on the horizon or the majesty of the Rocky Mountains or a symphony performing the most amazing piece of music.
This darkness presents opportunity for light to reveal itself.
20.11.08
3.11.08
stop #1: provo, utah
My eyes sting. A big issue with such a small living space is the lack of ventilation. My mom was frying something for dinner tonight and my eyes began to sting and there wasn't much I could do about it inside. So now I'm sitting on the balcony of our condo, I can smell cigarette smoke and hear the water falling from the mushroom in the pool. I'm wearing green shorts, a yellow cursive shirt, pink flip flops and a comfy, much too large BYU Cougar sweater. I have my Death Cab songs on shuffle (currently Expo '86). The wireless signal is much stronger out here. I might be spending more time outside now. :)
After all the complications of sending in my final portion of the BYU application, I have been readmitted and will be going back in January. By some miracle, my friend that I was planning on rooming with for this Fall semester has an empty room in her current apartment. I called the apartment complex today and filled out an application. They said I should be able to room with her, no problem. I am very excited.
After I'd read that I'd been readmitted, I told my parents. My father said congratulations and good job while my mother proceeded to jump up and down very excitedly and wake everyone else up in the condo (it was about 5:30 AM on a Saturday morning). She asked me if I was excited since I appeared to be showing no real excitement whatsoever which is how I tend to react to a lot of things that would cause others to jump up and down. (It's one reason why surprise parties aren't the best things for me. I don't get that excited about them and others can see that and they're disappointed and everyone's sad. Or I feign excitement and feel really awkward.) While I am excited to be moving away and on my own again, I'm not sure I can say I'm really "excited" about BYU. I'm incredibly grateful to be going back. And perhaps my feelings of excitement are merely blanketed by my intense gratitude.
I took forgranted my experience at BYU the first time around. I did not try hard at all. I didn't want to be there to begin with. When I realized I probably couldn't go back, I had more feelings of loss and confusion than I could comprehend. Since learning of my readmission to the university, I've found myself holding back tears of gratitude each time I've thought about BYU. I couldn't believe they readmitted me. Me! A girl they'd given a scholarship to who didn't attend most of her Church meetings, who barely pulled off a 3.0 GPA fall semester, then dropped all of her classes winter semester, then dropped all of her classes again spring term before actually being dismissed from the university. Can you imagine the amazement I experienced at reading my application status: "Winter 2009: Admitted"? A single word relieving all of my fears and doubts, answering all of my questions about my near future, freeing my mind of anxiety, providing that evidence I so earnestly sought, the evidence that I was doing something right, that my efforts were making a difference. Wow.
I'd read a quote somewhere, I'm pretty sure it was by Neal A. Maxwell, that went along the lines of this: "We should surrender our wills to our Savior, not out of fear, but out of immense gratitude for the sacrifice He made for us." How very true! If we understood just a tiny bit of what the Atonement means, of what our Savior did for us, there is no way we wouldn't be trying our best to follow the commandments.
I don't quite know how to repay my Savior and Heavenly Father for this second chance I have at Brigham Young University except to study hard, involve myself, and stick to the Honor Code while doing my best to reach out to others who might need me. I want to make a difference in people's lives. I think I'm actually in a position to do that now. Before I was so incredibly selfish, so self-centered, so unaware of those around me who could've used my friendship. I pray that I can be a better person this time around.
Yesterday at Church after Sacrament meeting, I went up to Bishop and gave him a hug. I then told him I was readmitted to BYU. He pulled me into another hug. It's nice to know how much he cares about me. This whole process helped me realize just how much our leaders truly care about us. I told Brother Nance about it as well. He gave me a nice big hug (I love his hugs) and then got a little choked up as he told me thank you and that I have been such a good example for him. Me? An example for the first counselor in the bishopric? I love Brother Nance. He's been like another father to me. He was the first bishop I can remember having. He and Sister Nance have always been there for my family, always been there for me. To think that he'd consider me an example, is overwhelming. These people that I look up to, some of them look up to me too. It only makes me want to be better.
I only want to be better.
After all the complications of sending in my final portion of the BYU application, I have been readmitted and will be going back in January. By some miracle, my friend that I was planning on rooming with for this Fall semester has an empty room in her current apartment. I called the apartment complex today and filled out an application. They said I should be able to room with her, no problem. I am very excited.
After I'd read that I'd been readmitted, I told my parents. My father said congratulations and good job while my mother proceeded to jump up and down very excitedly and wake everyone else up in the condo (it was about 5:30 AM on a Saturday morning). She asked me if I was excited since I appeared to be showing no real excitement whatsoever which is how I tend to react to a lot of things that would cause others to jump up and down. (It's one reason why surprise parties aren't the best things for me. I don't get that excited about them and others can see that and they're disappointed and everyone's sad. Or I feign excitement and feel really awkward.) While I am excited to be moving away and on my own again, I'm not sure I can say I'm really "excited" about BYU. I'm incredibly grateful to be going back. And perhaps my feelings of excitement are merely blanketed by my intense gratitude.
I took forgranted my experience at BYU the first time around. I did not try hard at all. I didn't want to be there to begin with. When I realized I probably couldn't go back, I had more feelings of loss and confusion than I could comprehend. Since learning of my readmission to the university, I've found myself holding back tears of gratitude each time I've thought about BYU. I couldn't believe they readmitted me. Me! A girl they'd given a scholarship to who didn't attend most of her Church meetings, who barely pulled off a 3.0 GPA fall semester, then dropped all of her classes winter semester, then dropped all of her classes again spring term before actually being dismissed from the university. Can you imagine the amazement I experienced at reading my application status: "Winter 2009: Admitted"? A single word relieving all of my fears and doubts, answering all of my questions about my near future, freeing my mind of anxiety, providing that evidence I so earnestly sought, the evidence that I was doing something right, that my efforts were making a difference. Wow.
I'd read a quote somewhere, I'm pretty sure it was by Neal A. Maxwell, that went along the lines of this: "We should surrender our wills to our Savior, not out of fear, but out of immense gratitude for the sacrifice He made for us." How very true! If we understood just a tiny bit of what the Atonement means, of what our Savior did for us, there is no way we wouldn't be trying our best to follow the commandments.
I don't quite know how to repay my Savior and Heavenly Father for this second chance I have at Brigham Young University except to study hard, involve myself, and stick to the Honor Code while doing my best to reach out to others who might need me. I want to make a difference in people's lives. I think I'm actually in a position to do that now. Before I was so incredibly selfish, so self-centered, so unaware of those around me who could've used my friendship. I pray that I can be a better person this time around.
Yesterday at Church after Sacrament meeting, I went up to Bishop and gave him a hug. I then told him I was readmitted to BYU. He pulled me into another hug. It's nice to know how much he cares about me. This whole process helped me realize just how much our leaders truly care about us. I told Brother Nance about it as well. He gave me a nice big hug (I love his hugs) and then got a little choked up as he told me thank you and that I have been such a good example for him. Me? An example for the first counselor in the bishopric? I love Brother Nance. He's been like another father to me. He was the first bishop I can remember having. He and Sister Nance have always been there for my family, always been there for me. To think that he'd consider me an example, is overwhelming. These people that I look up to, some of them look up to me too. It only makes me want to be better.
I only want to be better.
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