Dualism (my version).

Yesterday was wonderful. Yesterday filled my heart. And yesterday I faced the hard and fast reality that I am a romantic. This is not something I have ever wanted to accept about myself, since I try very hard to be a strong, independent woman. I don't like asking for help; I know my limits and I enjoy pushing them. Accomplishing hard tasks fills me with confidence and a drive to do even more. And I want to be the type of person who doesn't need a man to make her happy. I want to be completely fine on my own, capable of fulfilling my own dreams. I want to be the resilient woman who is unaffected by setbacks and trials.

But no, I just... I like feelings. I love feeling things. My soul is constantly filled with some kind of emotion, be it good or bad. I revere the soft pat of tear drops as they hit your pillow case. I live for the ache in your chest that serves as a blissful reminder that you are alive despite what has happened to you. And I love the snap of laughter that pops like a balloon breaking because it couldn't hold its excitement in. I catch the spark in people's eyes when they meet someone for the first time and are so intrigued that they can't think about anything else -- I know that feeling like no other. I'm the kind of girl who tears up when she thinks about how much she misses her family and smile-cries when she thinks of the gospel. I never wanted to be this kind of person--I wanted to be put together.

Maybe I can be both.

Decisions

I have about 10 unfinished drafts hanging around in my inbox, and it's about time I posted some of them suckers. That's what I intended to do originally, right? (Actually, I think I'm going to make that a for-real goal. I am going to post all these drafts that are just bummin' around. Ha!) Anyway, I just happened upon this one and was moved by how strongly I felt this... And how everything is okay now. It really is okay. I've been incredibly blessed and guided through the trial. And like I've mentioned before, I believe that I am in the process of coming out triumphant.

Anyways, I wrote this roughly four weeks ago. Take from it what you will.

-----------------------------------------

Life changes. It's the end of an age. Don't cry because it's over. This is the start of something new. And etc.

I am losing three of my closest friends very shortly. Okay, I shouldn't say losing, but they're all going away and I am having trouble coming to terms with it. Obviously there's nothing I can do, but I am going to hang on to these next few days with all my strength. I don't want to be misunderstood -- I am absolutely thrilled for the adventures that these ladies are embarking on, I'm just a little sad that I won't be there for the ride.

I don't know. I guess I don't have that much more to say about it. It just adds to the everything that is changing in just a few short weeks. And I mean every single aspect of everything.

But you know, this is okay. I am going to be okay. I feel at peace with the choices I've made -- I know that they are the right ones. And it is just so amazing to me how quickly after the storm I am comforted. I'm not alone.

Heavenly Father is good to me.

New Morning

Disclaimer: The following blog post may or may not cause this:

Let me tell you something.

My knee caps are sore. I've been kneeling beside my bed, staring at this computer screen, while my stomach and heart are both going wild with elation. So many thoughts are whizzing and whirling around each other but for some reason I have no idea which words to type out first. And so you get this firsthand account of my train of thought.

I have no reason to feel the way I do, and yet this sudden, unexplainable passion for life seems to be bursting out of my face. I want to run down the street with my arms outstretched and yell and laugh and twirl and tell everyone how happy I am to be alive. I want to be alive. I had a cooped-up day--too many hours were spent watching Parenthood and napping--and my number one priority right now is to make sure that tomorrow is not the same. To be completely honest, I've had a cooped-up past couple of months. It's not news that my life since last September has been a wreck. Or at least, I've been a wreck. I've had more tearful nights than I care to admit. I've been hopeless and careless and faithless. I've had sleepless nights and grumpy mornings and angry days. I've woken up at 3am with an apathetic heart and had to drag myself unwillingly to class and to work and to the grocery store. I've thought and feared that my passion has left me, but I am thrilled to be able to ardently proclaim that it has not. I love life; I love living it. I love the endless possibilities it is offering me and praying that I will accept. I love what I can create and instigate. I have so much more power than I ever give myself credit for, and somehow, I am climbing out of a three-month pit triumphant. Not by myself, no, not even close. And I know I have a ways to go, but I'm getting there. And most importantly (at least to me, and right now), I know what passion is and I know that I have it because I can feel it again.

The world inspires me; humankind inspires me; the gospel inspires me. There is too much wonder in the world to live without excitement. Yet I seem to fall over and over again into the trap of thinking that I have no control over what happens to me or I can't effect any change in my life. Well, guess what--I can. And I am going to. I'm going to do so every day for the rest of my life. For too long I have sat waiting for good things to happen to me and become angry or bitter when they haven't. I've compared myself to others and made life a competition, when all I should've done is opened my eyes and enjoyed what I've had all along. Yeah, that's over. I'm done. That mindset is fatal and I won't submit to it any more.

"I've been calm all my life... I'm gonna do something about that."

I feel like... I feel like I'm back. Hah, and I'm just beaming you guys. Maybe this will seem silly in the morning but right here and right now, it's all very real. Everything is okay; everything is fantastic. I know who I am. I really, really do.

Here's to hoping this feeling is more than just a momentary one.

"Have you heard who you are?"

"You're a new morning."

Oh, Paris.

"That Paris exists and anyone could choose to live anywhere else in the world will always be a mystery to me."

That pretty much sums up the thoughts that went through my mind when I rode the train back to London from our two and a half day excursion to the city of lights and the home of croissants. Sometimes, all I can think about is how I felt in Shakespeare & Company with The Picture of Dorian Gray in my hand, or how I felt standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower with blisters on my heels, or how I felt in Museé de Orsay with wonder in my heart. Suddenly I knew how other people in the world felt when they walked those streets because I felt it too, an indescribable, powerful overtaking. Amazement, fascination, longing.

Tonight I watched my first Woody Allen film and I loved it. Midnight in Paris made me giggle and it made me frown and it made me think. It was one of those movies that I know will drift into my thoughts more than a few times in the next week or so, and those are my favorite kind of films to watch. The kind that stick with you.

"That's what the present is. It's a little unsatisfying because life is unsatisfying."

What hit me and what I think I related to most in this film was how much Gil wanted to live in a different time and place. I totally feel that. I've always thought that it would be so much better if I lived in the 20's or the 40's, or any time before the Vietnam War really. Never quite satisfied with my life. I don't really know why that is or how to stop it. All I know is that I focus so much on checkpoints: "I'll be happy when I go to college," I say. Well, I'm in college. "I'll be happy once I'm used to BYU." Hey, guess what -- I'm used to it. "I'll be happy when [fill in the blank]." The big takeaway, though, and what Gil finally realized is that he would never be happy unless he learned to be present. Not like the past, present, future kind of present, I mean mentally aware and accepting of the right now. Not wishing or waiting for something to happen, but immersing oneself in the current surroundings and situation. He realized this and then he walked down the Seine with a cute girl and it rained and it was all romantic and blahdy blah. So maybe once I finally accept and immerse myself in my life -- in the right now -- I will magically run into a handsome man whose conversation is enough to make me love him in less than two hours time. It's a thought anyway.

Also, this song. Oh, Paris...

Paris.

Blue skies are calling

I wrote a couple paragraphs. They were about my fears. My fears about next semester. Nervousness for school to start. Anxieties about new roommates. I got it all out. And, well... it's gone now.

Because I realized that none of that is important -- not now, not ever. I know that I'm nervous for everything to change, but things have to change, and they will whether I'm prepared for them to or not. Life does not wait. I know that what's most important in my life right now is my ability to embrace whatever comes next. Both my happiness and my inner peace depend on my willingness to do that.

Right now, everything is in motion. I have many decisions that are just kind of floatin' around up there, waiting for me to give them more attention. I do not intend to try to make these decisions now or even relatively soon. I'm just waiting, and as antsy as that makes me, it's what I've decided to do. It's what I feel I am supposed to do. I have no definitive plans for the future, and as someone who always has her life planned out, that terrifies me. Truly. But, you know, I have to be okay with that. And I will be.

Found this on Pinterest a while back. Always applicable.

Everything will be fine. Life is good; God is good. And things will work out in the end -- probably sooner, actually. I have complete faith in that. Until then, I'll just keep going, keeping an eye out for my blue skies. They're on their way. Merry Christmas. :)

Pre-Finals Week Blues

One time I was sitting in a library, with Jennie at a desk not too far behind me, because it was the week before finals and that always means going to the library, when I realized that I wouldn't be going to bed for at least another four hours because I still had six pages to write; well, that one time is actually this time, meaning right now, and by that I mean I am so beyond screwed because, like I said, six pages you guys -- six freaking pages -- all of which will have to be proofread and edited and perfectified (and yes, I am completely aware that I just made up a word, but I bet you like it just much as I do) and then printed and stapled and finished, done, destroyed like the one ring that ruled them all in the fiery depths of Mount Doom, but hopefully I, unlike poor Mr. Baggins, will be able to keep my index finger, as I am incredibly fond of it (more so than I am of my other fingers even, seeing as it is the least crooked -- oh yes my fingers are terribly crooked, and I will attribute that to my incessant knuckle cracking) and I do not wish to be a nine-fingered woman, although I suppose there are worse things I could be...

Like this. This would be worse.

Anyway. How was that for a long sentence? Holleratcha.

Wish me luck.

Sometimes

Sam is the only reason I've seen Princess and the Frog.

Nobody wanted to play Full Contact.

We made lists, tanned, laughed, danced. A happy day.

It was Derek's birthday so we went on an adventure.

I stole her a chapstick so she stole me these sunglasses.

I lost the shorts I was wearing in this picture.

Katy Perry's "Firework" has never been so much fun.

We dried off in the men's restroom.

One mud fight and my clothes were never the same.

I'm heavier than I look, so that was impressive.

The judgment from the woman behind me is my favorite.

I was sadder than I look that day.

The manager of the caf asked us to shower next time.

We picked these from our courtyard. Yep.

Good friends. Mitra left us that day.

The most make up I wore all year.

Hawaiian sunsets. It's no wonder I was distracted.

Sometimes it hurts that I'm not still there.

Cloud Atlas

I wish I had the words.

I am so often scared that I have forgotten how to feel things. That I go through life and don't notice small things, beautiful things. That I can't remember how to relate to people or open up. Be honest. I feel that I don't have meaningful conversations and I fear that I am forgettable. What if I've forgotten how to relate to people? What if I don't know how to fall in love? I'm afraid that I am incapable of higher emotion. I can feel momentary elation. I can get scared. I can cry because I'm sad. In fact, I experience these things all the time. But what about joy. Empathy. Loyalty. Passion. Love. I don't know where my passion went. I don't know when it went. I just remember walking in the courtyard of the jfsb one day during winter semester and talking to my mom on the phone, tearing up because I'd realized that it was gone. I hadn't noticed it leave. I want to feel things strongly again. I want courage, peace, excitement, devotion, spirit. Happiness? Maybe. Some days I wonder... Most of all, I want to love with all my soul, love with a love that is more than love. I want to feel connected with the world around me. After all, "our lives are not our own." There is something so much greater than what I am. Some times, like tonight, I am reminded of that so strongly that I can't believe I ever forgot. But I do. I forget, and then grace is kind enough to remind me again. Then, I am hopeful. I have hope that I will one day be able to feel strongly and passionately; that I won't fear love, but embrace it; that I will see beauty in everything, and not be ashamed to cry; and that, after all this, I won't forget, but grow in my remembrance and passions. When that day comes, I will be able to express how I feel.

But I don't -- at least, not the right ones. So just listen to this. Listen, and feel.

I wrote a poem.

It's not a very good poem. I am by no means a good poet, but, by virtue of the fact that I just wrote a poem, I suppose I am one, albeit a lousy one. Anyway. I wrote this for my English class because I was told to and because I need to remind myself of my dreams every once in a while.
(I am making this seem like it's not a big deal to me because if it's not a big deal, then it doesn't matter if it's any good or not. I can just pretend I don't care. But I do care. I care a lot. Just for the record.)

Haven't any of you ever had a dream?

Okay. Without further ado:

To sleep long and deep, with dancing dreams that keep me calm

to sip cocoa by campfires, snuggled up with my boy

to wear flowers in my hair

run barefoot through a field

and twirl, sing, breathe

Not to change to fit others, or pretend I'm not scared,

or to realize after all this time I was wrong

but to finally feel like myself

and know it's because of you

and watch you smile.

For reals this time

I feel stupid for blogging about this. First a post about hair, and now this?? Oh well. It needs to be done.

Things are about to get personal. Are you ready?

I'm uncomfortable with my body. I have low self confidence, getting dressed is the most frustrating five minutes of my day, and I never think I look good. Listen, I know I'm not fat. You don't need to insist that I'm not fat, because I know. But I'm over average, and I don't like that. I know I have infinite worth and I know I'm a daughter of God, so don't be concerned. I just don't feel awesome, and I should! I'm 20! I should be an irresistable freakin' babe. But instead, I find myself lazy, lethargic, and, well... squishy. I am squishy.

Health-wise, college has not been awesome to me. I gained 20 pounds my freshman year. When I came back home for the summer, I lost half of that. I hung out around at 150 pounds for the duration of my sophomore year, until I went to London and gained about 15 more pounds. Don't worry -- every Nutella-smothered biscuit and crepe I ate was delicious. I regret nothing. But I haven't lost any of that weight, and it's been almost four months since I got home. It is time to do something about it.

When I was a senior in high school, I dropped a lot of weight for prom. The truth of the matter is I had gotten my dress from a vintage store, and thus there was only one of it, and therefore only one size. And that one size happened to be too small. But I was absolutely in love with the dress, and it was only $60, which for a prom dress was a total steal. So I bought it anyway. I then cracked down and followed this hardcore diet that I would never recommend to anyone. I literally only ate a limited amount of fruits, nuts, eggs, and vegetables. In two weeks, during which I was very cranky, I lost ten pounds. But I looked HOT.

I don't want to be unhealthy this time around, but I do want to see if I can get back down to that weight, because I felt great. And I want to feel like that again. So, without further ado, a progress/goal/chart/picture thingy:

starting weight: 164 (10/3/2012)

goal weight 1: 160

goal weight 2: 155

goal weight 3: 150

goal weight 4: 145

goal weight 5: 140

ultimate goal weight: 135 lbs.

Feel free to offer all the words of encouragement that your brain can come up with. And by that I mean please, please, please help me stay motivated. I'm notorious for giving up. And I'm tired of starting over.

70 Reasons to Smile

I made a goal to write down five things each day that I was grateful for/happy about that day. Here they are.

17 September
1. SouthEnd Market had cheap vanilla soymilk. I got some and it was delicious.
2. We watched a movie in my first class, which relaxed me after a stressful morning.
3. Brother Haws offered some beautiful insights. I got a lot out of sections 88 and 93 of the Doctrine and Covenants.
4. My roommates love me despite my many, many faults.
5. We had a delicious late night snack thanks to the collaboration of Taylor's and Sadie's foods.

18 September
6. I didn't have to go into work till 2:30, so I had time to finish my homework!
7. Anna and Becca let me borrow their clothes so I didn't have to go to class in my Tucanos uniform.
8. I had a good, long talk with Natalie.
9. I bought cinnamon graham crackers :)
10. I remembered how much I love the song Boogie Shoes by KC & The Sunshine Band, so I found it on Spotify and listened to it. A lot of times.

19 September
11. Sadie helped me with my project.
12. Becca let me borrow her bike.
13. Joe fixed our dryer!
14. I got to see 83, all of whom I have missed dearly.
15. Sadie and I went on a very nice bike ride.

20 September
16. Jennie shared her chips and salsa with me.
17. Spotify has all the Disney music. So naturally, I listened to all the Disney music.
18. My teacher told my class that our logo designs were good :)
19. It was cool enough to wear a sweater for a little bit.
20. Heavenly Father answered a prayer and I recognized it immediately.

21 September
21. Grant and I had a heart to heart.
22. I think I am getting better at my job!
23. Becca and co. visited me after work!
24. I stuck to my goal.
25. My motivation to stick to my goal never left.

22 September
26. Sadie got engaged!
27. My break was really relaxing.
28. I was reminded that is important to slow down.
29. I resolved to not let myself get stuck like last year.
30. Becca and I had a heart to heart :)

23 September
31. I got to go to the Brigham City temple dedication!
32. I took a great nap.
33. Heart to heart with Parker (a lot of heart-to-hearts lately).
34. I watched the trailer for and got really excited about Les Miserables.
35. I enjoyed our Relief Society presidency meeting, as always.

24 September
36. I slept in (on accident, but it was still great to get an extra hour and a half of snoozin').
37. I bought grapes.
38. I exchanged my shoes for ones that aren't broken, and boy are they cute.
39. I drank chocolate milk.
40. I got a good grade on my paper.

25 September
41. Mumford & Sons' new album came in the mail today.
42. Mumford & Sons' new album came in the mail today.
43. Mumford & Sons' new album came in the mail today.
44. Mumford & Sons' new album came in the mail today.
45. Mumford & Sons' new album came in the mail today.

26 September
46. I listened to Babel all day and fell in love with Mumford all over again.
47. I wore my mom's comfy sweater.
48. Jennie helped me think of things that I'm grateful for.
49. Rachel closed, so I got home 30 minutes earlier than I would have.
50. I found a free pattern for a hat I want to knit.

27 September
51. I saw Hawaii friends at Tucanos.
52. I got to talk to my mom, albeit it only for a few minutes.
53. I read me some Harry Potter.
54. I got to know some of the girls in my ward a little bit better.
55. I survived another day.

28 September
56. I talked to my dad on the phone for a little bit.
57. I saw Katie Belliston in the library.
58. I saw Hayley Rozsa at Tucanos.
59. I talked to Alex on the phone.
60. Will kept me company while I closed.

29 September
61. I didn't have to work, so I actually got some sleep!
62. I got to go to the Relief Society session of General Conference.
63. Alex and I went to Walmart.
64. I got strawberries and fruit snacks.
65. Mumford brought me some comfort. Comfort & Sons. Heh heh.

30 September
66. Church was so, so, SO wonderful.
67. I got to go to ward council. Which I love.
68. We had crepes with Relief Society!
69. Everyone helped clean up.
70. We got home taught :)

A silly blog post about hair

I know I'm going to hate myself for this. I know it. I know it.



















But GOSHDANGIT don't I just look so cute with bangs and short(ish) brown hair!

October 2011

It's long right now. I wish it were shorter. I finally grew out my bangs, what I've been trying to do for years -- but JK I want bangs again. I always want my hair to be what it is not. But I think that is true of me in all aspects of life. I want what I can't have.

What puzzles and bothers me even more than my brain's impeccable knack for desiring what I don't have, though, is my disturbing lack of effort to actually get what I want. Maybe it's because I know that once I get it, I'll want the opposite. Or maybe I'm just scared of trying because I wouldn't know what to do when I actually achieved something that I've always dreamed about. Maybe I'm afraid that no matter how hard I try, it won't work.

Whatever it is, I'm sick of it.

Quality Alone Time

I realized something about myself.

It's something that I've probably known all along, intrinsically. But I was able to put it into words yesterday, which made me extremely conscious of it. Therefore, it feels like a revelation.

Alex and I were driving to Walmart. We were talking, as friends typically do when they're together. He asked me if I watched the game on Saturday.

"Look at my face," I said, drawing a circle around it in the air with my pointer finger. "Does it look like I watched the game?"

He laughed. "I don't know, you might have."

"Well, I didn't. I was at work when it started anyway. I would've watched it when I got home if I had been with people."

"I feel like you say that about everything..."

It's that qualifier: "if I had been with people." We proceeded to discuss how I never go out of my way to watch TV shows -- I only watch them when in the company of others. I don't seek out movies that I want to see -- I watch them when other people want to. There are so many things that I only do when I'm with friends who are doing those things. It's weird.

"So," Alex asked, "What do you do by yourself?"

I thought about it. And honestly? I couldn't come up with anything. "I think..." I said slowly, intrigued by the words that were about to come out of my mouth, "I think I'm just usually with people."

This was new to me. I mean, I've always known that I like to be around people, but I guess what I never thought about was the extent to which this enjoyment goes. I really do not prefer to be alone. It's not that I'm scared of being along or I feel uncomfortable by myself -- quite the contrary. I appreciate alone time. Going to see Jersey Boys by myself was arguably one of the best nights of my life. But I don't need as much quality alone time as most people do. Lots of people need hours every day to be by themselves or they'll go crazy; I could spend every waking hour of my day with someone I enjoyed being around and remain perfectly sane. I really, really just like to be around people. People that I like to be around, anyway. Heh. I like being around people that I like to be around. I also like to write sentences that are redundant and repetitive (see what I did there?).

Thinking about it, though, I do spend time alone... Yeah, I do. I take my alone time before I go to sleep. That's why I stay up fairly late -- I listen to music and think about things and take three times too long to finish homework because I "multitask" (read: peruse Pinterest and le facebook). Such is life.

In other news, I bought The Little Rascals yesterday. It was in the 5 dollar bin at Wally World. Who wants to watch it with me? Because heaven knows I'm not going to watch it by myself.

Goals I Can't Keep

I just looked at my blog and remembered that I said I was going to run every morning for ten straight days. Well, as you've probably guessed by the title of this post, that has been discontinued. I stopped after the second morning because my shins were hurting so bad that I couldn't run for more than 30 seconds at a time. I hate this fact about my body. My shins are so weak and they just ache! All the time! And it's the worst because I actually have the desire to run. For the first time in my life, I would like to become more of a runner. But my body won't let me.

What I'm trying to say is that I would like, for once in my life, to make some goals that I will be able to accomplish. I don't have a problem making goals; I always have loads of motivation at the start. But it always, always goes away or I make the goals too grand and impossible to reach and so I seldom ever FINISH anything! asedfghjkluyutfrdersdfxgcfhgvjbk. I'm so frustrated.

It's okay guys. Today has been rough. But things will get better. In the meantime, here are some goals for now until October 1st (I'm just gonna keep this short for now in hopes that I will stick it out to the end):

1. Write down 5 things I am grateful for every day.

2. Finish all weekend homework on Saturday so I don't have to wake up early on Monday morning to do it

3. Leave for class 5 minutes earlier than I should. I don't want to be late anymore.

Annnnd that's it, folks. Like I said, keepin' it simple. I feel a bit like I'm spread too thin, so it's time to backtrack and take smaller steps. I'll survive this semester if I take it one thing at a time...

This song makes me feel at peace. Give it a listen :)

So this is what it comes down to.

I shouldn't make decisions at 3:26 in the morning, but conversations with Jennie just lead to things like this.

I'm going to go running every morning every morning for the next 10 days. Well, I'll run as much as I can -- I guarantee that a lot of it will be walking. But here's the thing. I don't feel good about my body, and I want to. That's it. I know I'm a daughter of God and I know I have infinite worth and I am a beautiful snowflake blah blah blah but I also know that we're supposed to become the best people we can be, and for me that means getting a handle on myself. Controlling my bad habits and developing healthy ones. Right? Okay. So by all means, keep tabs on me. Make sure I do this. It's only ten freaking days. That's nothing. I've just got to do it for ten straight days because I know that a week is too short to make a noticeable difference and two weeks seems ominous... ;) So ten days. Just to see what can happen. And hopefully I will be motivated by the change. It doesn't even matter if anyone else notices. If I notice... Well, that's all I need.

So yeah. I'll let you know how it goes.

7.5 Weeks in Pictures

It's about time, I know.

On our first day in London together, we journeyed to St. Paul's.

We also took goofy pictures of us reading British newspapers.

On our first Sunday, I decided to walk home from church with a few people. To save time (and to see some beautiful things), we cut through Hyde Park. Despite the shortcut, it still took us about half an hour -- and I was wearing brand new heels. I spent the latter half of the walk clinging to Jared's arm for support while I wobbled along on swollen, blistering feet. Lesson learned.

Hyde Park might be my favorite place in London.

Just outside Shakespeare's house in Stratford upon Avon. A few of us spent too much time talking to a tour guide and finding out some dirty secrets about William and his family, like how Billy Sr. was involved in black market trade and Billy Jr. was basically a player. We then got in trouble for falling behind the group. Worth it.

We paid our respects to the most notable and influential playwright of all time. RIP, William Shakespeare. You are missed.

But we will pay homage to you by naming our rowboats after your characters.

I can't remember where I was when I took this photo, unfortunately. Pretty though.

Westminster Abbey was a lovely time.

See that there stone froggy that I'm holding? If I'm remembering correctly, the museum man told me that it was over 2,000 years old. Cool. But this is also the very same museum man that didn't know you had to look through the lens -- he just thought my viewfinder didn't work. British people amuse me.

We saw this poster in almost every tube station we set foot in, and the only reason we wanted to see it was because it has two of our favorite actors.

This was such a happy day! 221b Baker Street, baby. And take a gander at how good I look in that hat!

After visiting my favorite fictional detective's made-up place of residence, we took a stroll through Regent's Park. And took lots of pictures on this bench. Natalie is too cute.

I feel so artsy looking at the sun come through like that. Mm mmm.

Pongo!

Good. Just how I like.

This was in Paris. I think this girl belongs in a mini cooper, don't you? And a French one at that? Beautiful.

Midnight in Paris. (It might have only been 10pm... Might have been.)

Hands down my favorite place in all of France thus far.

If you could only see how many notes, just like this one, covered the walls of a nook inside the bookstore. One little shop has touched so many people's lives, and it continues to do so. I've left my mark, and hopefully people who visit there will see how it's changed me. Then they'll be inspired too, just as I was.

Ms. Austen is gone, but her flowers live on.

Stourhead Gardens. I'm going to have to say that I think that's a misnomer -- it should be called Stourhead Kingdom of Dreams or something. Garden connotes something small. This place was awe-inspiring.

How can I ever repay the experience that I had here?

Breaking news: I will eat fish! As long as it's deep fried, drenched in vinegar, and smothered in brown sauce. And served with chips. MMM.

Scotland. You are so lovely.

Overlooking Edinburgh.

These little gems were all over the side of the Scottish Parliament building. What a contrast to England's Houses of Parliament!

Of course I bought the hat, why wouldn't I buy the hat?

Fountain's Abbey. I could not have thought of a better way to spend my 20th birthday than to lie in that field forever.

I'm gonna go ahead and say that I'm probably just a happier person than everyone else. There is no other reason I would be making that face.

I did not get to spend enough Sundays with these people.

My dear Aunt Shirley and Uncle Graham. This blessed couple let me stay with them for 3 days, though they did much more than house me. They showed me the Welsh seaside, introduced me to my family, and told me all about the relatives that are no longer living. They accepted me immediately, though they'd only met me once before when I was nine years old. They offered me love and generosity and open hearts and minds.  I love them so much and will never forget the time that I spent with them, short as it was. Cried when I had to leave.

I spend my last morning in London sitting on a bench in Hyde Park, listening to Sigur Ros, and writing in my journal. And snapping photos of random passersby.

27 Palace Court. A weird but comforting home for a short, but blessed amount of time. Sigh.

I'm not sure I will ever be able to explain the kind of experience I had in the UK. I felt like a different person a lot of times -- my behavior was often out of the ordinary, for me, and it was startling. For a time, I didn't understand myself, and I thought I was trying to be someone else, which was intensely frustrating, as you can imagine. But I soon realized that I wasn't someone else -- I was just letting a different side dominate my actions, a side that doesn't often get the spotlight. I was more reserved and observant, which served me well in those two months. I was introspective and inquisitive. I analyzed other people's actions and motivations and learned so much about others and, more importantly, about myself. I can safely say that after spending seven and a half weeks in London, I understand myself and my emotions. At least, I understand a lot more than I did before. There are still many things that remain a mystery to me, and they probably always will. I don't know. What I do know is that I have changed and that I am (hopefully) a better person now. I am forever grateful for the time I spent there, and even more grateful that I am now back. Good things come to an end, and that's okay. In the words of Dr. Seuss, "Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened."

See? I'm smiling. :)