YOLO is DEAD-O

You know those people that get to college and cry themselves to sleep every night because the adjustment is so big?
You know those people who text or call their mother, begging her to take them home because they just can't deal anymore?
You know those people that get distracted while writing blog posts about college by all the pictures on their walls, staring at them wistfully and wishing they could go back?
I SWORE I would never be that person.
I figured, yeah I have anxiety, but it's manageable. I've learned so many ways to cope.
I'm also very mature for my age. I've been through a lot and have come out way stronger because of it.
I DO NOT understand why I'm having such a hard time here.
I'm lonely, which I know 'everyone's lonely and noone has friends this fast' but that's crap. All my roommates have friends and I watch people make new friends every day in front of my eyes.
I know, 'You just need to join clubs, get yourself out there' but if it was that easy I'd have friends rn and I just... don't. I get along with my roommates but it's not like I can talk to them about... well, the things I blog about, I guess. I can't get together with them and hike the Y just because.
And a dating life?
yeah I wish.
nonexistent. completely absent.
There are plenty of cute guys here but they keep getting distracted by all the bodacious blondes with white teeth and already know their major, minor, and how many kids they want. They're not interested in the 17-year-old who wants nothing more than to fit in here.
My roommates invite people over every night (through morning... errrrrrrg). They all get along so well with their friends but you know what happened when I even said hi? Stares. Utter silence. Nothing.
I don't think I've ever cried this hard and this often in my life. I gave that up in second grade but apparently my sensitive side is coming back to haunt me.
I feel weak. I feel trapped. I feel numb.
My google searches have come up with the same suggestions for how to make friends... but none of them work if you're apparently not even a fun person to be around.
I love the school. I love the atmosphere. But I hate crying so much and I hate hiding in a corner of campus to stop getting laughed at for my age or just for being me. I hate that my real friends live a half hour away and I hate that I have to be an adult and worry about finances and groceries and inter/intrapersonal relationships and I hate that I'm not still in high school.
I wish people could get past my age, or my face, or my tears, or my shortcomings. I respect that it takes a lot of effort, and I don't ask much. At least... try to get to know me? Please?

Anyone?

Surreal

I know prayer is a real thing, because here I am. A high school graduate. One thing I love about prayer is that it is often answered through the actions of other people. Here are just a few examples:

Jake Rees was an answer to a prayer when he said that not everyone gets their answer as fast as some, and that's ok. He also helped me increase English&Reading sections of the ACT by a combined 16 points, raising my overall score enough to get into the college of my dreams.

Susan Hoyt was an answer to so many prayers throughout high school- I honestly couldn't have done it without her. Because of her, I always knew I had someone to turn to. I can't say how much her support has strengthened and shaped me.

Pam Beckstrand was an answer to a prayer when she taught me I could learn so much and have so much fun at the at the same time. She also taught me that people are fascinating. I hope she knows how much that class impacted me- so much so, that I may end up majoring in social sciences.

Craig Smith was an answer to the prayers of every kid who walked into his room, and I'm no exception. He was also able to empathize with me when no one else understood how I felt- not many people have spinal fusions and come right back to school. But he did. And he helped me understand calculus and my worth, all in a class period every other day.

Matthew Bell was an answer to my prayers when he recommended me, landing me my first real job. He believed in me and convinced others to do so as well. He was the first one to help me fall in love with physics, and I still love it today. He also made me punch him in the face in front of the class, wearing boxing gloves, to demonstrate Newton's law of action and reaction. It was good for my then-timid character.

Miss Amy Rosen's constant smile and positivity answered many prayers, and taught me patience and love. I'll use what I learned in her class for the rest of my life.

Jim Smith taught me how to work, really work, until an end result is reached. He taught me that it can be fun, but only if we work hard first. He taught me that the process is grueling and long and so, so worth it. He taught me that recognition and praise must be earned. He was an answer to my earnest prayer by giving me a chance to truly shine when I needed the opportunity most.

Lori Christensen was an answer to a prayer of loneliness. I learned that having a teacher for a friend actually proves to be quite valuable. I hope to one day become like her.

Tom Erikson taught me that physics is in everything around me- and that it matters. He was an answer to many prayers in hard times when I just didn't get it. When I was on the brink of giving up. He was there in his room, always willing to help.

Mari Felix was an answer to a prayer, and a second mother at the school. She taught me to LOVE literature- books I had never even considered looking into are now some of my favorites. She has a compassion and a love for each student seen in few other classrooms. She also wrote the kindest letter of recommendation I have ever read, and trust me, it made a huge difference.

Rhonda Bromley was an answer to many prayers and made possible so many dreams. It's so obvious that she truly loves each and every student at Lone Peak. From the first day of sophomore year, I felt special in her eyes. Every school, every student, needs a principal like her.

All the seminary teachers were answers to prayers, whether I had them as teachers personally or not. They are so helpful and inspiring and really in tune to the needs of each student.

Jolynn Wright was a huge answer to a prayer because she believed in me. She saw in me potential and an ability to represent my school with pride. She put up with all my questions and didn't give up on me. She's an incredible teacher and an incredible woman.

Allison Terry was an answer to countless prayers, offered with tears in my eyes. Nearly every announcement of a lost classmate was made while I was in her class. She showed so much compassion and care for me in some of the hardest months of my life. She got me through driver's ed(and to understand the enormity of this feat, you must know that driving gives me SO much anxiety. Like, panic attacks and working-with-a-therapist anxiety.) She has changed my life.

Derek Farr was an answer to a commonly offered prayer, titled 'please get me through this class that looks like it'll be horrifically boring'. And he did just that. Every day in financial lit was a new adventure. And I loved it.

Megan Calvin was an answer to a prayer because, to be completely honest, I've never been a huge fan of history classes in the past. She took my expectations and turned them into one of my favorite classes at school. She's engaging, refreshing, funny, and so kind. She also helped me get over perfectionism- here's to my first ever C on a test. It did me a lot of good, both short-term and in the long run.

Kyle Nelson was an answer to a prayer I didn't know I had given yet. I didn't know I missed writing. I didn't know I needed to vent on a blog and I certainly didn't know that I would want to. He gave me a chance to show people who I am without all the pretenses and first impressions. He helped me find out what the raw, real me is like. And, most of all, he helped me to like it.

There are SO MANY other teachers at Lone Peak, and I honestly think I could say something about each and every one of them. I offered so many prayers throughout my high school career, and I know that there's a living and loving God because of all the ordinary miracles I've seen in the halls of Lone Peak High School. So, thank you teachers, thank you administrators, thank you staff, thank you students. Thank you friends. I hope we'll see each other again soon.

Graduation

Years upon years of stress, tears, laughter, and nostalgia has brought me here. Graduation.
In elementary school, I would cry if I had to stay home sick- because I was worried I wouldn't make it into BYU if I missed too many days.
In junior high, I worried that I was invisible and tried to figure out where I fit in.
In high school.... high school was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.
I know the vast majority of people are so excited to graduate, to get out of here.
But to me- high school meant freedom. High school meant finally having real friends. High school meant seminary and so much growth. High school meant newfound confidence and really coming out of my shell. High school meant finding my passions, experiencing ups and downs, dating, being crazy just for fun.
High school meant learning how to cope.
I've lost friends to suicide, family members to drug abuse. I've spent months upon months recovering from both physical and mental ailments. I've learned more about my capabilities than I ever imagined and have overcome more than I ever wanted. But exactly as much as I've needed.
He knows me. He hears me. He lives and loves me.
He knows you. He hears you. He lives and loves you.
Moving to a new phase of life is won't be easy, but that's ok. I've been through enough to know that I can do hard things.
Here's to graduation.

Dear Homework:

I know we've been dating for a solid twelve years now... but I'm just going to give it to you straight. I've been cheating on you. No, I don't mean literally cheating...  I earned those scores all by myself... but I've been seeing someone else. My pillow, mostly. And blanket.
I love you, homework. I really do. You've helped me so much throughout the years. But you've always wanted prescience over everything else in my life; and pillow and blanket don't ask for much commitment. I know you're so much more than your scores but that's all other people see, Homework. And I'm not going to pretend to ignore your ongoing flirtation with Grades, either. You insist that she doesn't matter to you- well how come you are almost inseperable these days? What happened to the time when she didn't need you to survive?
The thing is... I just don't really care about you anymore. I know that's really harsh of me to say.  But it's the truth. Homework- I really just don't care. You're so nagging. So needy. I mean, I can have other friends too, right? Theatre and Dance? You guys used to get along so well. Now you think you're the only one who matters.
This is me breaking up with you. Yes, we can still be friends- I still technically need you to graduate- but I'm done worrying about you. I'm a senior now. About to graduate.
And... I have a disease. I don't want to hurt you, so you have to leave me before it gets too serious. I'm suffering from senioritis. I don't know how much longer ican hold on. I promised myself I would never have to deal with this but it's the denial that makes it all worse. It kills the best of us.
Homework, you've mostly been good to me. I love you. But you have to let go. I know you'll find some fresh, eager, naive little student who will be strong enough for you- it's just not me. I'm sorry if this hurts you. It hurts me too.
Goodbye- and I wish you the best of luck.
-Korra

The cast joke

That's all I feel I am these days. Look, Tiffany tripped and it was funny. Look, Tiffany faceplanted again. It was hilarious.
But if you tell a joke too many times, it's not funny anymore.
It's not like I trip on purpose, not like I enjoy being the most clumsy person alive. I'm sorry I sprained my ankle at a school dance. No, not dancing- walking. I'm sorry it never healed, and I'm sorry I sprained it again onstage the day before the spring musical opened. Yes, know it's not funny anymore. I know.

The one time I get a lead role, a chance to show that I deserve it- this happens. I misstep in the dance number, almost blacking out at the agony. I get myself offstage at the earliest convenient opportunity. I spend most of the next hour and a half crying offstage in pain and frustration because I know I've ruined everything. For myself and everyone around me. Except for those times I have solos- I limped on to sing those, trying not to pass out, ever trying to prove that I deserve it, that I'm worth it. In vain.

The joke's over, and I don't know how I'm going to make it through the rest of the show.
This is what happens when you have the nickname Biff.

Senior year in a nutshell

One guy told me I looked beautiful at prom
He wasn't my date

Next stop
Graduation
I mean, after the spring musical and the dance concert and AP tests and senior activities and tutoring and hopefully surviving and passing my classes and all that jazz

I napped for five hours yesterday
And still slept like a baby last night

I think I should wake up early tomorrow morning and actually look nice.
What? It's 7:15 already?
Well darn it. Leggings and a sweatshirt it is. Again.

I started crying when I realized how many friends I have to say goodbye to.

Decisions are hard.

I like it when my mom does my laundry.

Never have I ever

-been outside the country
-broken a normal bone (arm, leg, etc)
-had an older sister
-been in love
-ran away from home
- been tardy
-not cried at the end of Inside Out
-watched Lion King
-eaten sushi
-not been tired
-sluffed class
-dyed my hair
- accidentally laid in camel pee (oh wait, I've actually done that😂)