A Rather Large Announcement

Decisions are hard. Sometimes I struggle deciding what kind of ice cream to get. I really like chocolate almond crunch buuuut..... strawberry is also delicious.

But a while ago, I made a really, really big decision.

I decided to serve a full-time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

In approximately 4 days, a big white envelope will come in the mail and tell me where I'm going to be living and serving for the next year and a half of my life.

And that is my rather large announcement.

Don't Ever Let Fear Stop You.

Yesterday afternoon, I was sitting in the large dining room of a nursing home, trying to take deep, calming breaths.  It was my second week volunteering there.  Last week, I just showed up with a group from Y-Serve (BYU's service organization) without realizing that the purpose of the visit was to perform something. It's called Utah Healing Arts, in fact. 

Last week I brought nothing.  This week, I brought some piano sheet music.

I sat in the back, trying to breathe deeply through my mouth, trying to forget the funky smell that was in the air, pep talking myself while my fellow BYU students played the guitar, sang, and even hula danced. 

I was the last person to perform.  I stepped up to the grand piano and shakily arranged my music, apologized to the wheelchair-bound crowd for my stage fright, and then began.

I knew the song very well, but my mind was foggy and my fingers were tensed, and I hit wrong note after wrong note.  Awkward pauses and disjointed transitions littered the air as my notes jumbled all over each other.  I just kept playing until the last note, nodded at the applause of wrinkled hands, gave a smile and eagerly sat down.

"Oh well," I thought.  I did my best, and that was okay.  The thing is, I knew I was going to be nervous, and I knew I hadn't practiced that song in a while, but I wanted to do it anyway.  I just wanted to contribute something. And I did!  So it was enough to make me happy.

As we were leaving, I began going around to say goodbye to everyone.  An old man in a wheelchair with a breathing tube in his nose took both of my hands and complimented me on my piano-playing.  Then he looked right at me and said, in a wheezy voice, "Don't EVER let fear stop you from doing something."

So I just wanted to say to that man:  Thank you.  And I will definitely try.

Betcha Didn't Know I Was an Artist.

It's true. I'm an artist. My medium of choice is my iPhone screen and my bony little finger.








I'm not addicted. I can quit anytime. That's what I told my professor this morning when he caught me drawing Dracula. Just kidding. We didn't exchange words; he just gave me a quizzical stare.

Hey now. I can't help that I am such a cultured person.

What Up Fashion World.

Let me tell you a story, a story of pain and then redemption.

Two years and one month ago, I was in Vegas with some of my roommates, shopping at H&M. On the lonely clearance rack in the corner, I found a pair of denim pants. They were bright blue, and they cost 8 dollars. And they fit me.

So I purchased them.

Then I wore my bright blue pants the next week, and I thought they were pretty cool, but then this girl said "Wow, your pants are so bright..." in a voice that meant "I'm judging you right now."

So I still wore them once in a while but I was worried that I looked like a weirdy wearing them. Even though I thought they rocked. Eventually I just left them at my house in Vegas because I didn't wear them very often.

NOW?




Boo yah, fashion world! I already OWN bright blue skinny jeans that only cost 8 dollars!! And even though I was too chicken to wear them before, now I WILL wear them* to blend into current fashion trends at BYU cuz' I roll like that. Lemming pride, woot woot!

*I first have to retrieve them from the back of my closet at my parents house the next time I go home.... so wearing them is still an eventual thing.

The important thing to note here is that I am way ahead of the fashion trends, and by that I basically just mean that I buy bright blue things from clearance racks whenever I can.

A Handshake I'll Always Remember.

On Thursday, Kirsi and I drove to Salt Lake City to do baptisms for the dead in the Salt Lake temple (my first time inside!) and afterwards we walked around the Joseph Smith building next door.

We went up to the second floor to look at the beautiful architecture, and then Kirsi pointed down into the lobby and said "Look!" I looked, and saw Elder Richard G. Scott and Elder L. Tom Perry walking below! We were excited. Man, we were lucky to see a real live apostle so close, we thought.

We walked around the corner of the second floor, and I was taking a picture of chandeliers (above) when one of the large doors opened and a man came through it. He said, "these doors are heavy!" and then "hello sisters!"

He looked really familiar. It took me about 3 entire seconds. One mississippi--two mississippi--three mississippi. It was Elder Quentin L. Cook of the Quorum of the 12 Apostles.

Kirsi and I said nothing. Literally, we just stood there and said nothing. He reached out and shook both of our hands and smiled at us and said "nice to meet you!" and then rushed off to the elevator.

We both turned bright red and started laughing and had to cover our mouths with our hands until he had walked out of ear shot because we were so startled and excited. We met an apostle!! He shook our hand!! It's borderline embarrassing that we were so shocked, but hey, I didn't expect to go from photographing a chandelier to standing face- to-face with an apostle in 2 seconds flat.

It was the best ever. I recorded the whole experience thoroughly in my journal so I can tell my children about it.

If you are not understanding what an apostle is or why this is a big deal to me, no worries, I will explain! I believe in modern-day revelation; I believe that Heavenly Father still speaks to his children through personal revelation and through prophets. In the LDS church, we have a prophet and apostles. There are twelve apostles, just like Jesus had twelve apostles when he was ministering to people long ago. We believe they are called by God to lead our church. That's why I was so excited to meet one of the 12 apostles who leads our church today. I believe that he was called by God.

This weekend, the prophet and apostles and other church leaders are speaking to us. I invite everyone to listen, no matter who you are or what you believe. I promise that their messages are full of peace and hope.

I like Mondays. But really.

Last Monday afternoon, Sarah and I were eating strawberry ice cream cones after lunch, and I said, "I dare you to challenge me to blog every day this week," and so she said, "Amy, I challenge you to blog every day this week," and I said, "CHALLENGE ACCEPTED." Then, I didn't blog once because it was too much pressure. This post is dedicated to you, Sar. Checking my blog daily has finally paid off. (but I'll let you be the judge of that)

Well, it happened once again. Monday rolled around. How was yours? Did you have a "case of the Mondays?"

I think I was born without the "hate Monday gene" in my body, because I love Mondays. They are like the New Years Day of every single week, minus the countdown and sparkling cider (or, you know, champagne, if you roll that way).

I am a huge, huge, huge fan of fresh starts, because I always seem to so desperately need them, and I think that's why New Years makes me unbelievably giddy and Mondays make me feel like the world is at my fingertips. If it's Monday, anything can happen. ANYTHING*.

*not really anything, but certain things can happen such as deciding to forget about the train wreck you were last week.

It doesn't hurt that this semester I only have one short class on Mondays. ha. ha.

Today I cleaned my entire room, I organized my closet, went out to a yummy lunch, tweezed my eyebrows (big deal), and gave myself a much needed manicure.

Then, I went grocery shopping so that I could eat more than just omelettes (in my defense, those babies are full of protein). And tonight, I jammed out to David Archuleta for quite some time and had a webcam sesh in my spiffy clean room.

I even took a multi-vitamin today. I dedicated that moment to my mom.

Guys, Mondays are just delightful, are they not?? Delightful.

In other news, I have become obsessed with Emily Blunt and want to talk exactly like her. British accents are lovely. Updates to come.

In other, other news, I have fully embraced the blogger bun lately. Whatcha think? I wholeheartedly enjoy being my own person, and by that I mean copying the style of everyone around me.


Aaaannd this last one is just because I love: you guys/ embarrassing myself.

Straight Up Scholar.

Yesterday I had the blessed opportunity to enhance my knowledge of classroom management theories... aka: cram for my midterm. The really fun (aka: not fun) thing about the class is that it's chock full of theorists with strange names and their corresponding theories full of letters and numbers.

The three C's of discipline? The 4 dimensions of motivation? The 8 Z's of detention? Gotta know them all. (except the last one. i made it up.)

You should know that I am an extremely visual person. It gets out of hand sometimes.


I have to come up with an extremely unusual image or phrase to remember anything. It is both ridiculous and extremely enjoyable.

For example:

Remembering that Spencer Kagan developed the theory of "Win-Win Discipline" is cake when you realize that keggin' (kagan) is never a win-win.

Remembering that Thomas Gordon wrote "Discipline as Self-Control" is a no-brainer when you remember that Gordon sounds like gordo and gordo means fat in Spanish and then picture a fat person eating a donut with no self-control.

Lee and Marlene Carter's "Assertive Discipline" model is almost so easy it hurts. All you have to do is picture two elderly women named Lee and Marlene who are the assertive bullies in the nursing home. I mean, they steal pudding cups left and right, they push down people with canes, they race each other in wheelchairs. Dang Lee and Marlene. So assertive, I tell ya.

And grouping the theories by category is pretty simple too, especially when you remember that Dreikers and Albert took off their Glassers (glasses) and ditched their Nelson's custard to go Kagan (keggin') with Curwin. And Carter Skinnered a Bear, drank a Jones soda, and then went shopping at Marshall's. The imagery is both beautiful and unforgettable.

When there is a list of things to remember, I usually try to create something out of the letters. I faced some difficulty with the letters V, A, D and T (visibility, accessibility, distractability and traffic flow) until I realized that if you said it, it sounded like Vade-Teh, which is practically Vader, so I just drew Darth Vader on my paper. For studying purposes, you know.

And then I came across Friendliness, Attitude, Listening, and Compliments, which makes FALC, which is so close to millenium FALCon that the rest of the Star Wars memory aids practically wrote themselves.

It was a great afternoon of studying. I felt slightly insane.

But when I opened that test, I remembered every last thing!! A+

Being a weirdo works out sometimes.

my 21st birthday in vegas

Friday was my 21st birthday. I went to IHOP for breakfast (thank you Ashley for having me sign up for their birthday club a year ago), and the waiter was like: "Woo! You're twenty-one, you should go to Vegassss!"

And I was like: "I am."

I spent my 21st birthday weekend at home in Las Vegas with my family. It got preeeeetttyyy WILD.

Sarah and I drove all afternoon on my birthday and got to our house Friday night and hugged my parents and dog on the driveway and ate dinner and skyped my sister and I blew out my candles on my chocolate cake. I was asleep before midnight.

On Saturday, my mom asked what I wanted to do. I said, "I really want to go to the Clark County Heritage Museum." It was my favorite place ever as a kid. It's pretty much like Disneyland, if Disneyland was a museum that taught you about Southern Nevada and had a bunch of really old, cool houses you could walk through with creepy mannequins in them out in the desert. I LOVED IT AS A CHILD. Even though we'd always go in the summertime when it was a bajillion degrees.

So we hopped in the car and drove down Boulder Highway where the museum still sits! My mom and I wandered through every house, and the memories came a'floodin' back like crazy. I hadn't been there since I was little but I remembered everything. I had crazy flashbacks of being a wee child. Best day ever.

Yup. Still as fun as when I was six. And I'm an adult.I used a slot machine for the first time in my life. An antique slot machine at the museum.
With a penny my mom gave me. Don't worry guys, I'm twenty-one now.

Today, I went to church with my family. Then I took the longest, most beautiful nap, and then ate dinner and my family watched a DVD about Jimmer.

So to sum up, for my 21st birthday in Vegas I: ate a lot of chocolate cake, went to bed early, went to a museum with my mom, went to church, and slept a lot.

Yep. I am a clean-livin' girl all. the. way. It's the best.

Amy and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day.

It's 10:30 a.m. on a Thursday right now. I slept four hours last night. I was writing a stupid paper. Dumb paper. It was on a literacy theory that I didn't even like. Dumb paper.

Then I woke up late this morning, and my eyes were burning really bad. Like, really bad. I put in my contacts and it stung like crazy. Like, really stung. And my hair looked awful, so I tried to straighten it, but I gave up and threw on my clothes and began to walk to class.

I walked all the way down the stairs at my apartment complex before I realized it was raining. So then I walked all the way back up the stairs and back into my apartment and into my room to get my umbrella. It had stopped raining by the time I stepped back outside. I ran down the stairs and stepped in a huge puddle at the bottom so that one leg got all wet.

I ate two granola bars for my breakfast as I walked, and then my throat got really dry, so I pulled out my water bottle from my backpack just as I summited the massive hill. Except I dropped the water bottle, and the lid popped off and all the water rushed out and began gushing down the walkway, and all the people behind me had to dodge the water and it was really embarrassing. Then I had to chase my water bottle down the hill because it was rolling, and when I picked it up, all the water had fallen out and the spout where my mouth goes was covered in dirt anyways. I was really thirsty, too.

By the time I got to class, I was an entire ten minutes late and my hair was crazy and my nose was sniffly and my pant leg was still wet. We were doing presentations.

Right before it was my turn to present, something got in my contact lens, like a piece of grit or something, and I had to blink like crazy but I couldn't get it out, so I just presented my theory with a piece of grit in my eye. And my voice kept cracking because I was tired. And now, class is over and I'm sitting in a vending machine room drinking chocolate milk thinking about what a terrible, horrible, no-good, very bad day this is turning out to be.


You've read that book, right? Well not Amy, but Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day. I was just thinking about it because we read it in my drama class last week and talked about it last night.

I mean, poor Alexander! First of all, he woke up with gum in his hair and that's awful! And he didn't even get a prize in his cereal box, and his best friend decides to demote him to third best friend, and he gets a cavity and then at bedtime, he has to wear his railroad pajamas. And he hates his railroad pajamas. Like, really hates them.

It really was a bad day, and he didn't forget it. He wouldn't let himself forget it.

But you know how Shakespeare said that a rose by any other name smells as sweet? I disagree. If you call a rose a mucky-rotten-scum pocket you will probably think it smells a little less sweet. And if you call a bad day "bad" it's going to be bad, and when you call a bad day "good," it might be at least mediocre.

So I'm embracing my mediocre day, thankful that I get to go to my world religions class with the amazing professor who is possibly my favorite ever at BYU. And I get out of class at 1:30 and don't even have any commitments this afternoon so I can take a good nap in my warm bedroom with my new space heater.

This is turning out to be a pretty good, acceptable, semi-decent, all right day. And I'm gonna enjoy it.

Overcoming Ignorance.

It's frustrating to me that some people at BYU don't respect elementary education majors.

It was frustrating when someone told me that my future career was nothing but "glorified babysitting." It was also frustrating when someone implied that I was too dumb to understand a joke because I was an elementary ed major.

I once felt pressured by the "smart" majors around me, when someone told me, "YOU validate yourself in your own major." (you know who you are!) I took her advice and try to apply it every day. I want to be a smart, capable, hard-working teacher.

Maybe people just don't understand what an elementary teacher really does. Maybe they only know what they vaguely remember from their elementary school experience years ago. Maybe they only had terrible teachers growing up. Maybe they think that teachers just hand out worksheets and nag the kids to stop talking all day. Maybe they think the hardest part of the job is sharpening pencils.

Maybe they think that because teachers are paid like dirt, teachers are worth dirt.

Maybe they don't realize that teaching is both an art and a science. That teaching is a craft which is perfected over many years of experience. That a great teacher is a storyteller, a debate moderator, a scientist, a counselor, and a democratic leader (not a dictator).

Maybe they don't know that the word "worksheet" will be a forbidden word in my classroom, that my students will spend as much time out of their desks as they will in them. Maybe they don't realize that instead of reading about history from outdated textbooks, my students will act it out, will research it on their own, will debate it and teach each other about it.

Maybe they don't realize that, instead of accepting the crappy conditions of whichever underfunded school I find myself in, I will spend my weekends applying for grants so that my students will have better materials.

Maybe they think that the most time-consuming part of my future job will be un-jamming the copy machine so I can print more worksheets, when really, it will be building a time machine out of cardboard boxes late at night so my students will have something to inspire them as they read about the past.

Maybe they think I'll just yell at the kids to shut up and pray that the clock will go faster so I can go home and watch t.v., when instead I will be praying that my students will succeed, praying that they will feel loved, praying that I will know how to best teach them, every single day.

So when someone insults me because I'm an elementary education major, when someone insinuates that I must not be smart, when someone even just gives me a cocky smirk when I tell them that I want to be a teacher... I will give them the benefit of the doubt, just in case they don't realize the magnitude of my future profession.

But even so, I will pity them, because--even though they might be wealthier some day--they are already more ignorant and inconsiderate than I will ever allow myself to be.

And I will teach their children to know better.

2011 Moments

Well, here I am, safely at home on New Years Eve with no party plans, ringing in the new year with Paula Francis on the Channel 8 News (she rocks). Personally, though, I think that home is the best place to be on this night, especially in Las Vegas. Twenty consecutive years of watching the local news on New Years Eves has taught me that the streets are filled with drunk people who like climbing traffic lights. (very entertaining from the couch)

2011 came and went, full of ups and downs, can't believe it flew by so fast, grateful for things, blah blah blah... HERE'S THE SCOOP:

The Oh-No-She-Didn't Moments of 2011:

Dancing to the Single Ladies at my ward talent show. So psyched for it. So much bitter regret for the rest of my life (if you possess video evidence of this, please destroy it now).

Not making it into the SDSU- BYU came on January 26th. I was sick, and I couldn't camp out in a blizzard for a wristband. That game was so good, and they even got to storm the court. On my deathbed, I may still be sad that I wasn't in the Marriott Center for that game.


So much homework. So many busy stressful days. Winter semester was hard. Then summer semester was hard. Then fall semester was KILLER. (mandatory ending on positive note: But I learned a lot and I survived!)
Uncertainty, stress, taking chances, and crying to my mom. It's part of growing up. (except the crying to my mom part, because that's still kind of immature).

The HOLLA!!! moments of 2011:

Devoting my life to the greatest season of BYU Basketball ever. One word: JIMMERED.

In relation to the last topic, my Jimmer Birthday party in February provided enough happiness to last a lifetime. Especially the game of "Pin the Three-Pointer in the Net."
Going to Disneyland for the first time since I was twelve, and this time a bird didn't even poop on
me.
Spending the summer in Provo. Even though I was taking classes, it's true what everyone says: Provo is just better in the summer time!!! And living with Ashley was GREAT. And we went camping with our ward!

Starting the elementary education program at BYU has been an incredible experience: incredibly hard, incredibly frustrating at times, but incredibly rewarding! Nothing like kids to give you purpose in life.
All in all: great year.

It's always amazing to realize how much you grow in such a short time. It's kind of like leg hair.




PS. I just joined Brooke's link-up. Check it out. She is an amazing girl I met in the elementary ed program!

Parking Lot Princess

This morning I had a doctors appointment scheduled very early. My mom went with me (bless her tender heart) and we strolled out to the almost entirely empty parking lot at 8:30 am, ready to go home.

We got in the mini-van (aka: swagger wagon), and my mom turned on the car. We sat there talking for a minute, as my mom got situated and decided to unwrap a granola bar.

That's when we saw it.

A car was idling to our left, blinker on.

"Is that lady waiting for this spot?" asked my mom.

"uhh... I think so."

I can totally understand the rules of parking lots. It's a system. It's a language. There is protocol to follow, and if you don't follow it, other people have every right to slash your tires and I get that (but don't really slash tires please).

If there is a crowded parking lot and someone is waiting for your spot, it's only polite to pull out quickly. Heck, in a BYU parking lot (where empty spots are reasons for tears of gratitude and singing the Hallelujah chorus), it is polite to let someone follow you in their car, much like a desperate hunter, all the way to your car.

But this was not like that. Please see the following visual representation:

if I wasn't so ashamed, I would tell you how long it took me to make this in Paint.
but hey, it's Christmas break. livin' large.

She just really wanted our spot. Of all the spots in the whole parking lot... our spot was clearly THE most desirable.

Me and my mom just pick super amazing parking spots in the swagger wagon, no wonder all the haters get jealous.

Christmas Wish List

If you still haven't bought me a Christmas present, don't worry. It's never too late!! In case you just can't decide what to get me, I've decided to provide a list of ideas for some delightful gifts.

Edible Bling Spray:
I think a gangsta like me should be blingin' all the time...
ESPECIALLY while eating.
Every food item deserves a little edible bling bling!

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Portable Tissue Dispenser:
With my fragile immune system, it's likely that I'll sustain a cold within the next few months.
This contraption would help me avoid that unsightly runny nose on campus this semester!
So much swagger.

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Moody Chair:
The world is a dark, cold place.
Please buy me a chair/ bed that will swallow me whole in warmth.
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Oreo Milk Dippers:
I have been waiting for these my entire life.
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A Puppy:
Pretty pleaaaaase?
I'd walk it every day.
Most the time. Maybe.
But I'd snuggle with it every day for sure.
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Merry Christmas to all of y0u!! I sincerely hope you have a warm and happy Christmas day with ones that you love. Aww.