the flour, the rain, and the mouse.

i made brownies the other night.

it was just after 9 pm by that point, the evening winding down.
but then suddenly--i made brownies.

it's what i do when my life starts to get chaotic and feels like it's spinning too fast.
it's what i do when my stress levels start to rise, be it conscious or not.

because something about stirring brownies together brings a little bit of control back to me.

summer 2013 i made a lot of brownies.
i was in ukraine. (ha. member that? me neither.)
in abedinyoni, in an area that hadn't had missionaries for a long while.
and also i had two companions.
both of whom were new and six weeks apart.

not relevant right now, really.
just.
i made brownies.

because i love to watch the transition of the batter--
the way things change and thicken as you add the dry ingredients.
the way things swirl and spin,
all before they combine
with the addition of flour.

i went to the grocery store the other day.
husband is out of town,
(which on some trips is sometimes harder for me than i care to honestly admit.
when my shame and pride get talking.)
i went to the grocery store, and wandered for longer than i should have needed to.
is it possible to forget how to grocery shop?
i forgot where to even find certain things.

does growing up mean you learn how to grocery shop more effectively?
did i miss that class in adulting?
or does it mean you pay a little more for things you know are worth it--
without feeling bad for the cost being more?
even with consciously knowing it's worth it,
still being bothered because of habit to scour for the cheapest price possible?

i like my job.
i do.
i may not be good at a lot of aspects of adulthood,
our new space may be a chaotic mess with boxes and piles everywhere still.
but i like my job.
i like the community itself while still having the autonomy of my position.
i like the variety of older 5th graders mixed with preschoolers.

i'm good at it--most parts at least, considering how new i am.
i'm good at being organized and making sure things get done.
i'm good at writing and usually fairly good with people.
i'm good with kids and can usually charm even the most skeptical of littles.

the weather is turning.
the first cold days always throw me around like a leaf in the wind.
but tonight the rain keeps coming down.
and there's something soothing and grounding in that.

there's nothing quite like a cold, rainy night as the season first starts to turn,
to engulf you with the most perplexing warmth and stability.

then again, i think i just saw a mouse scurry out of the corner of my eye.
(i'm not quite ready for this adulting.)

she pours a daydream in a cup, 

a spoon of sugar sweetens up.

and she fights for her life as she puts on her coat,

and she fights for her life on the train.

she looks at the rain as it pours.

she fights for her life as she goes in a store

with a thought she has caught by a thread,

she pays for the bread

and she goes.

nobody knows.

sun been down for days,

a winter melody she plays.

song of the day: 

her morning elegance, oren lavie.

the aphonic master krem.

just a little stream of things:

i lost my voice this week.
i don't mean metaphorically.
and i don't mean in the way people say when they usually are sick and lose their voice.
i mean--
i quite literally could not even make sounds.
at first i could occasionally squeak out words.
by that evening, i couldn't even do that.
and for two and a half full days,
i had no voice whatsoever.
only in pieces did it come back--
not in voice, but in sound.
only if i tried incredibly hard.
it stayed like that for another two days.
before today.
today it sounds like what people usually mean when they say,
i lost my voice.

aphonic is used to describe a complete absence of sound.
given that last year i had an entire course on voice disorders,
i was incredibly paranoid when i was met with experiencing complete and total aphonia.

suffice it to say,
my voice is finally coming back.
just a bad case of laryngitis.

(and for your viewing pleasure,
the video i sent husband while he was at work on friday afternoon.
because any kind of scratchy was huge progress from complete lack of sound.
obvsi.)

that said,
it did provide me with immense compassion and empathy
for those who must always use AAC to communicate.
of how frustrating it is when it takes added time.
how frustrating to be behind the conversation,
because it takes time to write anything out.
(i spent multiple days using typing on my phone
and having my phone speak it as my sole means of verbal expression.
side note: the verbal descriptions of emojis are hilarious.)
because.
all words matter.
and everyone deserves to have a voice--
regardless of what form that voice takes.

- - - - -

i made the most delicious chocolate chip cookies this week.
usually i'm not very good at the actual making of cookies part.
but they were so good!
10/10 would recommend.
also,
while doing so i started watching a couple episodes of
the great british baking show.
ummm.
it's fine, it's the most delightful thing in the world.
i know i'm late to this party.
but it's wonderful.

- - - - -

also, i watched the netflix version of anne of green gables that just came out.
anne with an e.
i mean.
i loved it, in the end.
but it's so different from the other movies.
a bit more grim, and i think it takes the bleakness a bit too far sometimes.
also, anne is capital a annoying at the beginning.
not just precocious, but straight-up annoying.
she mellows a bit, though.
and. overall.
i liked it.
also.
anne getting her period for the first time is the
most hilarious and most accurate representation of
how to feel about periods that i've ever seen.

- - - - -

speaking of anne.
the anne to my diana is coming over this afternoon.
sometimes when megs is coming to utah county she stops and visits me on sunday afternoons.
it's the best.
do love my megs.
also, she informed me there's a new broadway musical recently made based on war and peace.
we especially love this song from pierre.
and also. josh groban. heart eyes.

- - - - -

my externship ends this coming week.
funny because last week i was only there for 1.5 of 4 days.
#itsgoinggreatthanks
also the headstart preschoolers had their last day on the 18th!
shame i won't get to see them again.
i should write more gradschool notes to catch up sometime.
there is even so very much to say.

- - - - -

speaking of things to write.
i've started writing kreminate's love story.
it's mostly for me more than anyone else.
and will probably have details that no one else cares much about.
but alas.
even beginning to write.

- - - - -

my laptop is falling apart.
but.
it made it through all of college and a jaunt to romania!
for an early 2009 computer, it's definitely going the way of the wind.
but.
hanging in there.
and has served its good purposes.
yay for making it through grad school!

- - - - -

we still have twinkle lights up in our living room and it still delights me to none end.

- - - - -

started writing thank you cards for the wedding!
who's proud?
i sure am.

- - - - -

i'm having a phase with putting my hair in braids or little bun pigtails.
like. two braids coming down,
or two little buns at the nape of my neck.
i look like i'm twelve,
especially with already having a young face.
but there's just something darling and fun about it.
so i keep doing it.
husband ain't complaining.
(because i'm adorable, obvsi.)

- - - - -

i'm also having a jonsi phase.
in terms of music, you know?
i don't listen to music much anymore.
but.
i'm having a jonsi phase.
also!
regina.
a serious regina phase, too.
and.
just a fun maytime playlist i've been compiling.
also, husband doesn't like mumford & sons.
clearly i'm still working on forgiving him for this.
hahaaaa. kidding. mostly.

- - - - -

there's a rose bush in our front yard, right by where we park in the driveway.
it's a hilarious and lovely collection.
some magenta roses, some pink, an oddball yellow one.
i love it.
we like our basement apartment that isn't completely underground.

- - - - -

happy sabbath.
here's to hoping i'm done being sick now for awhile,
seeing as i've been sick most of the past two months.
(loudly crying face. distraught face.)
i blame the children. and also decompressing from so much stress and flurry.

- - - - -

oh.
p.s. i graduated!
you may now refer to me always as master em.
or just em.
that's cool, too, i guess.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 13.

who knew that the ambition of writing gradnotes
at least once a month while in grad school to chronicle the experience,
was actually too lofty of a goal?
oops.
but here we are.
because that's where we are in america today.

- - - - -

everyone hits the point in grad school.
the point of points that is just part of the experience.

the i'm almost broken and i legitimately don't know if i belong in this career or if i should have signed up for any of this in the first place or why i wrote essays and went through interviews to tell people why i belong here but what am i even doing with my life right now.

^^ THAT point. always in run-on sentence form.
(don't you agree, janessa?)

some people hit it in the dead middle.
others hit it towards the end-but-not-quite-end.
some people at the very beginning.
others at the not-quite-beginning-but-not-yet-middle.

that was me.
last january and early february, i had a really hard time.
reeeheheheheallly hard time.
in which i considered dropping out.
it wasn't just a joking statement that we all make sometimes.
it was a literal, consistent thought.

i hated clinic when i started.
i mean, maybe not hated it.
i liked the clients overall.
but they were trickier cases.
i had no idea what i was doing.
planning and making lesson plans killed me.
it took me forever, i hated feeling like i was a teacher,
because i purposefully chose to not go into education.
some people like making up activities and plans like that.
it made me want to vomit and ugly cry all at the same time.
and.
clinic is the real life.
clinic is what this career is.
and.
if i hated it, what did that mean about this very career choice?

january was rough on a lot of levels.
(have i ever mentioned that i hate january?
oh, right.
just thought i'd throw that out there.
in case you didn't catch it the first five-hundred times.)

in all the winter darkness of struggling with surviving, though.
jillian made me a playlist.
emmylou in january.
with just a little snark and dark, and a whole lot more empowerment and feel-good jams.

in time, it got better.
i'm glad i had some of my most complex clients at the start,
because everything else has felt like a breeze.
it really did empower me.
it really did show me what i'm capable of.
and it really did help me learn the process.
(and find ways for me to not hate it.)

but for january hearts, jillian made some jams.

- - - - -

i've been thinking about my jam lately.
you know, that moment of being in the zone,
able to shut down any outside anythings and focus like a beast?
the jam.

i used to be really good at getting in the jam.
especially in my last semester of undergrad.
(i mean, i was dying and numbing myself which is emotionally unhealthy.
but like. it was really effective for gettingshiiiishtuffdonelikeaboss.)
actually, the whole rest of my undergrad after my mission
i was pretty dang good at finding the jam.
for school, for grad school apps, for the gre.
i could get all intense like that for the things i really was motivated towards.

but.

i've lost my jam.
sometimes i worry lately that i'm not ambitious enough anymore.
that i've lost the ability to get intense and in the zone.
#burnout

but here. now.
in this, the final finals week of my life.
(don't even try to talk to me about phd's.
also the end of the semester is bad timing for that in general.
krem has no intentions of ever doing research or phd or being a formally enrolled student ever again.)
i have no jamming in me anymore.
people keep telling me to give myself a break.
because i'm getting married and stuff. (in 10 weeks!)

but i don't feel like i'm allowed to use that excuse.

i mean, obviously i'm distracted.
obviously i prefer spending time with my love to spending time with school.
but shouldn't i be a better grown up and able to shut everything down and focus once in awhile?
because it's actually really hard for me. #confessions
i feel like i shouldn't be given that excuse.
i don't do much wedding related on a daily basis.
occasionally kind of, but mostly i've been shoving it off to christmas break.
and granted, there's just a lot going on right now.
but. shouldn't i still focus more?
sometimes i feel guilty that i'm not very good at getting into the jam.
that i don't even try sometimes because i'm just so burned out.

just some real talk streams of SFDs* for your saturday.

but today.
today i've been listening to emmylou in january.
and it's my jam.
it's giving me my jam back.

shake it out by florence + the machine is my spirit animal.
spirit song? can that be a thing?

and every demon wants his pound of flesh,
but i like to keep some things to myself.
i like to keep my issues drawn,
it's always darkest before the dawn.

shake it out, shake it out, shake it out, shake it out.
and it's hard to dance with a devil on your back, 
so shake him off.

i'm also really into james taylor right now, with a side of billy joel.
and my other jam of the day is you were born by cloud cult.

you were born into a strange world.
like a candle, you were meant to share the fire.
i don't know where we come from, and i don't know where we go.
but my arms were made to hold you, so i will never let you go.
cause you were born to change this life.
you were born to chase this light.

because sometimes all you need
are some jams to give you your jam back, right?
some jams for january.
jamming january.

in honor of education and a final finals week,
i leave you with a photo from the depths of old photo books.
just a little preschool babykrem front and center there from over 20 years ago.

finals week and regression into an incompetent human
alleviated in part by lover, spotify study playlists, and playlists from the bean.

*SFD brought to you by anne lamott and brené brown,
the brilliant humans that they are.
also, probably everyone everywhere
should read rising strong 
at one or multiple points in their life,
because it's just that good.
not even one bit exaggerating.
you're welcome for the gift idea.

merry christmas.
happy finals.
are we done yet?
baaaiiiiii.

i'm trying to write more.

and not be insecure about it.

because writing is good for me and my heart and soul.

(because, realtalktotallyhonest: i'm really insecure about writing any personal words lately.)

and i have stopped writing this year, 

with really good reasons because my focus has been elsewhere.

but i'm trying to start again in multiple forms and venues:

emails, blogs, maybe journals.

messy and stormy and wild mess, though it may be in the process, 

i'm trying.

so if you're bothered by the drafts and messes

that come in writing my thinks, feels, and life:

carry on.

this old world must still be spinning 'round.

man only likes to count his troubles; he doesn't calculate his happiness.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, notes from the underground.

i saw this quote once about how talking about our troubles and problems is our habit. instead we should break the cycle. talk about our joys. focus on the positive, you could say. express gratitude for what is working and going right. calculate the happiness instead of tallying the troubles.

i'm just as guilty as anyone of getting caught in this cycle.
frustration with the constant deluge of stresses, particularly in grad school.
it's hard. it's frustrating. it's exhausting. it just is.
but.
i wish.
i wish to not get so caught in those troubles.

there's a beautiful bright future ahead.
personally and professionally.
there's so much that i've learned.
personally and professionally.

and.
i'm trying to be more conscious of
the good
here and now and always.
to soak it in and revel in it.
to calculate it up and forget the tally of troubles.

- - -

i really love walking in the cold. last december, i once walked to and from a homecoming down in provo that was a 15-20 minute walk down a hill (and back up the hill to return) and winding through the streets of provo. my grandma was horrified when she found out i walked. it snowed on the way there. it snowed even harder on the way back. but something in that grey cold on the day that marked two years since i'd returned from ukraine, a walk in the cold just felt so right.

i mean. let's not get carried away. i don't love being cold. i don't love when shivers dig deep into your bones and it feels impossible to ever be warm again.

but there's something about walking city streets (or abandoned streets) with a chill on my face in the dark that just. feels so nostalgic and cathartic.

it simultaneously kills me and thrills me.

#justukrainethings

- - -

i've been listening (#thiscommutinglyfethough) to a book lately about trauma and the effect on mind and body. it's fascinating and horrifying and inspiring all at the same time. a beautiful perspective on the human experience and mindfulness. and especially valuable in context of experiences i've had in the past working with people (particularly children) from rougher backgrounds.

in addition to that, though. even more now i see.

i had a mild case of ptsd upon returning from ukraine.
(which is a very large can of worms on its own.)

but it's just interesting.
to hear and see.
to reflect upon and recognize
just how far i've come
in these almost-three (!!!) years.

there's so much to ukraine that often i can hardly even let myself think about it. but other days it bubbles over and i remember her in all her beautifully sincere, suffering, frigid glory. don't cry for me, Украина. the truth is--i'll always love you. i can't help it. though it took some ice-chipping to reach and see, you are a land of gold. and i'd be remiss if i didn't credit those joys.

i've hardly ever loved so deeply as i did then.
i've hardly ever suffered so deeply as i did then.
isn't it funny how those two experiences so often come hand-in-hand?

it's a deep, inexplicable experience in a deep, inexplicable place.
there's something about that eastern land.
something that can't be expressed,
but only felt and experienced personally.

pain and suffering are always inevitable 
for a large intelligence and a deep heart.
the really great men must, i think, 
have great sadness on earth.
fyodor mikhailovich dostoevsky, crime and punishment.

the darkness that hangs--
it's not a myth.
there's a literal different heaviness in the air there,
as mystical as that may sound.
in a literal and figurative sense.
there's a vibe that can't be spoken,
but is shared in knowing eyes by those who have been there.
though anyone who truly digs inside finds,
a land and people of pure gold.
the kind that could only come of
knowing sadness in a way that cultivates the deepest kindness.

she was harsh, but so good to me.
as, i think, so many others would say, too.

with so much distance now,
i've been trying to remember again.
what was it that made it traumatic?
what was it that made it so hard?
what spurred the need for that recovery period upon returning for nearly all who were there?
many things.
combinations of things.
but.
i'm remembering.
i'm grateful to have experienced it.
i'm grateful to be home.

anyway. i guess i just am saying.
i've been thinking about my ukraine more than usual lately.
there i experienced some of the most
magnified horrifying and magnified goodness
that i've ever known.
and i'm also saying that i like to walk in the cold.
something about it stirs up something deep in my soul.
and also that--
i don't care who you are or what your background is--
this book is fascinating and insightful.

- - -

i'm getting married in 77 days.
7 is one of my favorite numbers.
(7 and 8, if you wanted to know.)
there's a lot i want to write about it.
(let's be honest, there's a lot i want to write about a lot of things.)
some days it feels like a blur of time that will never come.
other days it feels like it's only a week away.
i suppose that's how it goes, isn't it?

most of life feels like a blur these days.

you know what doesn't?
the fact that i picked up my wedding dress yesterday.
despite nightmares that i would hate it,
it's fine because it's the most beautiful thing.
erryone can just take a deep breath and breathe easy now.

- - -

i'm exhausted.
deep-in-my-bones exhausted.
thank heavens grad school is winding down.
are we done yet?
it's not even that it's hard at this point.
i just. it's just so draining.
i'm excited for externships.
terrified.
but excited to experience more fully this profession.
it's a beautiful one, you know?
a hidden gem, this speech-language pathology business.

but also.
sometimes i feel like i'm losing neurons, not strengthening them.
like. maybe i'm actually getting stupider, not smarter?
maybe.

- - -

i'm behind on pretty much everything in my life.
top of that list is probably in writing the heart and soul of life.
i feel like i've lost the ability to write anymore in general,
but also about myself, my heart, and my life.

okay, so it's a tie at the top of the list for
how behind i feel on all the school-related things
i need to accomplish in the next 10 days.
including things i've barely started.
woof.

- - -

thus begins the end of one of the fastest years of my life.

i do love twinkle lights and twinkle season.
happy december.

wishes kept.

i feel the need to write tonight,

but i couldn't quite tell you why.

perhaps a continuation of what i started writing months ago on love.

maybe on clients and graduate school. 

maybe on things closer to the heart.

however.

i'm in the midst of one of those phases of chaos 

in which exhaustion is perpetual, 

and processing life never gets put into concrete words.

i wish i had words more.

i wish i didn't say that so much.

but i do.

i know myself.

i know i have to write.

and often--

writing, 

in some form or another, 

is the answer.

it's how i come to understand 

and muster through 

this thing called life.

i want to write a whole post dedicated to the experience of 

being involved in the intensive stuttering clinic.

i want to write about life and love and people and connection.

i want to write about the hand of God.

i want to write about families and those connections.

i want to write about my whole first year of graduate school,

now that it's almost the beginning of the second year.

i want to write about a lot of things.

i want to change the world, 

instead i sleep.

song of the day: keep breathing, ingrid.

i sleep.

because it's all i can do 

to keep breathing.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 9.

nothing i write lately feels worth sharing.
i feel like i've lost the poetic knack i once had.

i try.
i really do try.
there are a number of things
i've been trying to write,
but i just.
can't.


i had this (clearly foolish) idea that summer semester would somehow be smoother than previous semesters.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that somehow it would be less stressful and not quite as consuming.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that i'd more easily get a handle on everything.
i had this (clearly foolish) idea that clinic would not require so much of me.

clearly, i was wrong.

i wish i had more to document this graduate school experience lately.
i mean, i have pages and pages and pages of notes written about clients, for classes, etc.
but the breezes and gusts that blow through me in the process,
shaping how i think, who i am, and what i see within those i work with, myself, or my future.

but when the task at hand is to stay afloat,
by any means possible,
when the water is exactly at your head--
well, that doesn't leave much time for soul-searching, detoxing, and processing.
the small moments i gobble up in order to revitalize myself and maintain sanity--
those rarely if ever allow for the taxing task of writing through it all.
letting out all the words that help me to understand and gain perspective.
instead, those small and gobbled moments mostly involve
letting life and goodness and bright moments,
spent with even brighter people,
seep deep down into me.
i allow the winds to blow on my soul.
sometimes i listen, sometimes i just let its breezes give me fresh breath.
perhaps i should dedicate a certain portion of each week to writing.
writing whatever comes out for however long i can,
even if only a small amount of time is allotted.
perhaps i should.
so far, though, i regret none of the time
i've dedicated to being with people and sunshine instead.

whatever else anything is, it's better in the summertime.
when the days are long, the sun is bright, and the leaves are green.
i feel like i ought to have something to say for these months.
to adequately describe the chaos, or at least to adequately describe all the things that are sinking me.

academically speaking,
nothing currently feels cohesive.
nothing currently feels like i have a grasp on it.
with each day--or each client, or each email--everything shifts a little bit.
everything requires constant adaptability.

that's fine, really.
it is.
but sometimes--
my soul is just a bit weary of all it takes to stay afloat.

on the other hand,
there are moments.
they never last long,
but there are small, fleeting glimpses.
moments in which i see a small sliver of light shine,
within which i see the growth in myself.
i see the changes in my thought processes.
my critical thinking being refined and becoming more and more like a clinician.
with all there is to know, and all there is to remember, and all there is to be,
there are moments.
they never last long.

i rarely, if ever, feel like i'm taking in enough or that i'm adequately prepared.
what if i get to the end of grad school and find
there are scores of things i should have learned but never took in?
often, i feel under-qualified.
particularly with my summer clinic assignments.
i want so badly to be able to help these children.
i see so acutely their need and their difficulties in communicating.
the complexity of figuring out language
amidst so many other complexities in their little systems and lives.

tell me your secrets and ask me your questions.
oh, let's go back to the start.
nobody said it was easy,
no one ever said it would be this hard.
i was just guessing at numbers and figures,
pulling the puzzles apart.
questions of science,
science and progress,
don't speak as loud as my heart.
running in circles, 
chasing our tails,
coming back as we are.
nobody said it was easy.
no one ever said it would be so hard.
i'm going back to the start.

all these (adorably bright-eyed) puzzles with so many pieces,
in order to truly make progress--
where do you even begin?

song of the day: 

the scientist, coldplay.

to be alive at all.

to be alive at all is to have scars.

(john steinbeck, the winter of our discontent.)

it's as saturday morning session is in its final quarter.

that's when the boots come.

it hasn't always been this way.

i wish i knew how, what, or why.

but heaviness comes and stays awhile on the saturday of general conference.

this, the loveliest of all days.

last october is when it happened the first time.

i tried to push the struggle and worry away.

it worked for a few hours.

and then i wept my way through saturday afternoon.

i never cry.

hardly ever.

i can practically count on one hand

the occasions in which i wept throughout the past five years.

these baby blues don't cry.

when i was approaching the end of my mission, 

there was a day.

i was serving in saltovka, 

and we were supposed to have a meeting with a man named nikolai after district meeting.

on a bench across from the branch--

we were going to meet him there.

then we discovered that our scheduled meeting with nikolai,

was really a meeting with the nikolai in my soul.

(if i were a ukrainian man, my name would be nikolai.

a story of name stereotypes for another day.)

anyone who serves a mission can tell you:

though there are many experiences of light, love, and joy,

there are incredibly heavy things that are a part, as well.

particularly in a land that has faced--and continues to face--so much sorrow.

i'd become quite good at holding those sorrows for a moment.

bearing them without letting them weigh me down.

i had to learn, and so i did.

but every once in awhile.

they'd accumulate.

my heart swelled wide as eternity 

with a simultaneous love and grief for the whole human race.

so many people.

so many trials.

so many fiery paths to walk through.

so much heartbreak.

so much hopelessness.

how could we ever help anyone?

how could we ever pass God's light to all of them?

how could we ever ease their burdens by showing them how to give it to Jesus?

how could we ever figure out ourselves how to let go of control?

how could we ever breach through the darkness?

it was cloudy that day.

a cloudy, muddy day in late september.

i remember looking up to the clouds and seeing flecks of light.

a small space where the clouds were a little less thick.

my heart swelled wide, thinking of all the people who have ever lived.

it was heavy, and i wept.

(my darling little companions at the time were молодцы about this.

letting me release my overwhelming grief.)

i cried my tears, and then i got back up and kept walking.

sharing a little light here, a little light there.

helping to peel scars from someone's back and letting them blow away.

here a scar, there another scar.

because that's how.

that's how we help someone.

that's how we pass on God's light.

that's how we ease burdens and show how to give it away to Jesus.

that's how we let go of control.

that's how we breach through the darkness.

one moment at a time.

here a little, there a little.

здесь немного и там немного.

that's the answer, really.

but every so often, 

the heavy in my boots accumulates.

every so often,

i need to spend some time on a bench with the nikolai in my soul.

every so often.

my boots overflowed today.

instead of weeping through saturday afternoon, though,

this time, i slept.

why must people kneel down to pray?

if i really wanted to pray, i'll tell you what i'd do.

i'd go out into a great big field all alone,

or in the deep, deep woods

and i'd look up into the sky--

up--up--up--

into that lovely blue sky 

that looks as if there was no end to its blueness.

and then i'd just feel a prayer.

(l.m. montgomery, anne of green gables.)

peel the scars from off my back.

one moment at a time.

look at the sun and sky, and feel a prayer.

this is how we stay alive.

song of the day: welcome home, radical face.

but me, i'm not a gambler.

oh, hello.

did you know that march is nearly over?
(springspringspringspringspring!)

did you know that i have a cold again?
(so many january negative associations coming back.)

did you know that i don't write about anything nearly enough?
(thoughts, feelings, events. do i sound like a broken record?)

did you know that the end of march will be seven of twenty-one months of grad school completed?
(one-third in the books, thankyouverymuch.)

did you know i wish i wrote in a journal more than once every few months?
(that's generous. every few months at best.)

did you know that i feel i've lost the deeper-thinking and insight-filled side of my soul that processes things?
(i'm embarrassed to admit that when writing the last sentence, i first wrote losted on accident.
talk about overgeneralization of regular past tense.)

did you know that it's the first day of spring?
(i do dearly love the springtime.)

did you know that i completely adore working with preschool-age kids?
(my job is the best.)

did you know that my russian is becoming abysmal?
(a gradschoolproblem at its finest.)

did you know that life feels like a bit of a whirlwind that rarely gets time for a good round of thinking?
(the messy middle, as one of my russian professors would always say.
and because of this, it's actually kind of a relief when some aspects of life or schooling take their sweet time.)

but i suppose you already might have known all that.^^
(then what do you even need me
(and my abundance of parenthetical statements)
around here for?)

goodbye, love.

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 6.

guys.
february has flown by.
literally.
flown.

and. you know what?
it's been quite a good month.
a good one, indeed.

do i sound a little bipolar after my last edition of gradnotes?
grad school is my eternal scapegoat for lack of sanity.
and it's been quite an extreme turn around.
take that for what you will or for what it's worth.

i have five trillion things i need to make time to write about in some place or another,
but for now i'm sticking with my aim for having a regular journal of grad school as it goes.
this small portion of life (that most days feels so long), is a pivotal, soul-stretching, soul-enlarging time.
and i want record of that journey.
a qualitative and subjective record of the progress,
separate entirely from any objective measures. (read: gradesandevaluationsgalore.)

guess what?
i see real progress in my clients.
my sessions are going so well.
(almost too well, quite frankly.)
good rapport has been built.
and i've found a groove.
a groove inside the uncertainty.
certainty inside the uncertainty of all that i still don't know.
i'm learning.

with one of my clients, the real secret to planning is not planning too much in advance.
because only a minor portion would ever go as planned anyways.
everything relies upon being in the moment and thinking on my feet.
perfect presentness.
because it doesn't matter so much what the activity or materials are.
it matters what you do with them.
i'm learning.
things hardly ever go the way i plan with my other client either,
even when that plan is loose and tentative from the start.
(six-year-olds, amiright?)
and yet, it still all works out.
i'm learning.

lately, i keep feeling like i'm on the downhill slide, especially after this semester is over.
that the end and the real world are not so far away.
i mean. next year and graduation still feels a million miles away,
but i'm taking that as improvement from being entire light years away, as they once felt.

during class tonight, i was thinking about how different my position is now from where it was at the start.
i was thinking about the nearly-nervous-breakdown that was had in january.
i mean, was it really that big of a deal?
what the capital-h-heck was wrong with me?
why did i have such a profound career/life crisis at that time?
i mean, i know.
kind of.
but.

honestly?



i still don't know.


i wish i could tell you what it was that changed.
i wish i knew.
a lot of things together, i guess.
when it comes down to it, though, i simply know that a change has taken place.
slowly, almost imperceptibly.
oh, the changes that have come.
slowly, almost imperceptibly, as one day stretches into another.
only in quiet moments do i look up for a moment and see just how this experience is evolving.

because.
despite being buried in somanythingstodoandreportstowrite,
and drained with an exhaustion that sinks deep into my soul,
it's a good kind of drained, you know?
a drained that comes from giving your heart and soul to worthwhile causes.
now i am tired, but resolute. (firstaidkit.)
because the general trajectory is a good one.
a really really good one.

in our voice disorders class last week,
we watched several videos of psychosocial interviews.
and. well.
they gave me incredibly heavy boots.
psychosomatic responses.
the way humans react to circumstances, sometimes without realizing it.
it's amazing, really--isn't it?

i often considered going into counseling.
in fact, just before receiving my first grad school acceptance,
it became my plan b--just in case i didn't get in to grad school.
i was worried i wouldn't, worried i'd be left a fool.
and so, at long last, on a simple saturday, i found my plan b.

well, we know how this story ends.
i got into grad school(s).
and am now on this pathway.
to stay--for now, anyway.
but sometimes i wonder.
because i ever so love to dig into people's souls.
to peak inside and help them see.
i don't anymore--not often, anyway.
but these videos we watched--
they reminded me why i don't think i could ever go into counseling--not professionally, anyway.
because i'd take too much into my soul,
and there it would be too heavy for me.
ergo, here we are in another branch of humanity.
they all build on one another, you know.
all these related fields.
and so here i am, in the world of speech and language--
where communication reigns.

i'm self-conscious about my writing lately.
i feel i've lost my touch, insight, or wisdom.

but i just wanted to say--
here i am.
marching on.
we are okay, we are alright. (joshuaradin.)
okay.
and so we're marching on.
okay?
okay.

i'm here.

highlights and lowlights and redlights and golights.

because a little listed summary is the only adequate way to include all the important things.

in no particular order, some delightful lights of the break are included, but not limited to:

+ jillian's sealing. (the most beautiful morning of light.)
+ megs being back in america for a little minute. (can't even. those armknechts, though.)

+ fabfour reunion and an impending #apartment210 reunion. (i can't get over these women.)
+ break being one week longer than the byu one i'm used to. (more than a day after new years? what?)

+ having my first entirely solo session go supa well. (we gonna be bessst friendzzz.)
+ being just as entertained by the 'science experiment' as my client. (and the toy dinosaur that helped us.)

+ reading and reading. on my time. by my choice. the little things, you know? (i highly recommend the giver.)

+ naterson. (i mean. i know. right? i know.)

+ family parties. (and getting to know his delightful fambam.)
+ shnuggletimeourturn. (never gets old.)

+ movies. so many movies. (with a harry potter marathon on top.)
+ chinese food for dayz. (pass the sweet and sour chicken, please.)

+ dinners and laughs with laurs. (we're hilarious.)

+ christmas eve traditions. plus one. (the night before christmas is a crowd favorite.)

+ so many occasions for playing rosatheviolin of my own accord. (and fingers remembering things i forgot.)
+ jenniferannemariemckay. enough said. (cosmic soul connections.)

+ twinkle lights and the poinsettia quilt. my favorite place on a cold winter's night. (always.)

+ visiting with renaenae. (and. logan is literally in the middle of nowhere. how does anyone survive??)

+ the symphony. (always makes me heart-eyed. i really adore evenings at the symphony.)

+ sleeping in. naps. sleeping some more. (sometimes i think i spent the whole break asleep. opa.)

the only lower lights?

- it's january. (my januaryhatred is real. not over it. never over it.)

- snow. everywhere. (is winter over yet?)

- break ends.in three days. (i just.can't.even.)

notes from the underground--grad school edition, volume 2.

worst day of grad school > worst day of undergrad.
funny how that works, eh?
not that grad school isn't a lot--it is.
but. it's not so all-consuming as my last year of speechpathrussiangradapps was.
(cause that was just insanity. let's never do that again, yeah?)
this isn't rocket science, after all.
and, considering there's so much we don't know, there's a lot of ambiguity.

you know what the things is about grad school?
they don't actually force you to do anything.
not really.
it's expected.
and not doing these things punishes no one but yourself.
there's glory in that--
it's all your own.

- - -

i get a weird joy out of being lost in basements of libraries.
not lost, but lost to the world. at least for a time.
though sometimes it also makes me feel like i'm losing my humanity.
also. truth universally acknowledged?
it's always cold in the dungeons of the library.
always. why is that?

- - -

i like the different research findings we talk about,
but i don't like the research process itself or academia.
still, i'm frustrated by the desperate need for more research.
when humans are involved, though, research only goes so far.
that's something i kind of love about this field: ambiguity.
because sometimes there's not going to be an answer. it's okay not to know.

ease with ambiguity.
comfort with complexity.
confidence tempered by humility.

- - -

in one of my classes a few weeks ago, we were talking about biases.
researcher bias, examiner bias, all the possible bias in all things.
if you believe something in your head, you might find that.
agreed.

but. you know?
i also think.
sometimes. you must know what you're looking for in order to find.
not in all cases, of course.
in life, though.
with people.
perhaps you need a general idea of what you're aiming for if you ever hope to get there.

- - -

what do i really want out of life?
what do i really want it to look like?
these are the things i think about and scribble in the margins of notebooks during long lectures.
or when i've finished exams or quizzes before everyone else.
(i'm almost concerned at this trend--this finishing so soon when i receive last.)
i think too much, really.
that's my problem.
and yet i can't stop thinking and wondering.
what do i reallytrulyactually want out of life?
how do i truly want my life to look?
more than that--how do i get there?
most days i know, some days it all seems farfetched.

i wonder more often than i probably should why i am where i am.
not in my university, of course. in other things.

- - -

despite all these things we study and talk about,
even with the medical interests i have--
i still keep coming back to autism and languages/bilingual issues.
what does this mean? does it mean?
the other day one of my professors was talking about her research and her history.
how as a graduate student, she was bored with the typical, and so she got involved with some other research.
it was the part of my days i was most looking forward to.
and that's where i needed to go. that's what i needed to do.
[she studied complex syntax, and i thought it was fascinating.]
i'm not saying i'm interested in complex syntax. (i'm really not.)
but i am saying.
i'm bored.
my time is consumed, but i am bored.
and so i think too much.
and my mind wanders from every topic to what influence that may have on autism.
and i'm all filled up with all these pieces of different languages.
i mean, it's mostly russian anymore.
but there are still all those other pieces.
that must be for something. it's something cultivatable.

in my developmental language disorders class the other day,
we were talking about preschools for a minute.
and. you know?
an autism preschool.
a language-based preschool for individuals with autism.
that wouldn't be so bad.

(speaking of preschools.
when my children someday go to preschool.
i'd like their teacher to have a college degree.
and preferably, i'd like it to be a language-focused curriculum.
too much? right. okay. we'll cross that bridge later.)

- - -

i'm perplexed sometimes by the mix of people and personalities that end up in this field.

perhaps even more perplexed by the way there's not as much variation as you'd think.

- - -

if you don't like people, if you can't have empathy--
you shouldn't be in this field.

did you know they've done studies?
in the end.
if you're a good clinician, you'll see results--regardless of what you do.
these things we're learning, they're tools.
but sometimes.
even when the work is good, the research results are not inspiring.
and there is no one-way ticket to minimizing negative effects of language and speech disorders.
individuals, you see.
there's something in that, though.
the fact that, if you're a good clinician, you'll see results.
because it's about being a human being.
who believes. cultivates. empowers.

- - -

all of my personal experiences prior to graduate school--
well, they don't all relate. not really.
people say things--with astonishment, of course--like,
oh, you know russian?? look at you. that's so great. i'm sure it will be useful.
i'm sure it will. because it's useful in life. kind of.
but the offering in this field from russian-speaking countries is meager.
speech-language pathology isn't a very large field outside of the united states,
especially outside of english-speaking countries.
in ukraine i'd tell people what i was studying,
and often they had no idea what it was.
i had to describe the field to them, just as i frequently do in english.

my russian, particularly as a double major,
honestly has very little to do with the things i study now.
and yet.
all these languages i've studied.
all the literature that has seeped into my soul.
the experiences i've shared with so many different kinds of human beings.
they've sharpened me.

a sharpening a bit like a pencil in a pencil sharpener, you could say.
not one of those pretty electric ones that flooded into classrooms in my later elementary years--
rather, the metal manual sharpeners.
the ones you have to crank with your hand, and listen to the grinding.
you know?
everyone secretly despised the person who got up in the middle of a spelling test to sharpen their pencil.
despised that painful grinding that pierced through the room.
it's not pretty, that process.
the shavings discarded in all shapes and sizes.
sometimes you think the pencil's sharpened,
when really there's a hunk of wood on one side blocking the lead.
and so you shove that pencil back in and twirl the crank around,
pushing the pencil towards the circulating blades.
and then when you pull the pencil out--she's sharp as an arrow.
oh boy, is she sharp.

so it is.

these experiences from every kind of place and time.

these interactions with people of every kind.

they sharpen my perspective.

they sharpen the way i approach and categorize new information with the old.

they sharpen. me.

sharp.

- - -

p.s. first fall break i've ever had in college?

joke's on me. there's still several things scheduled for clinic throughout the week.

in addition to a ridiculous amount of things to be done.

#happyfallbreaktoyoutoo

then again. today i slept in.

did a bunch of laundry.

(washed my sheets for the first time in youdon'twanttoknow how long.)

ran through these beautiful streets.

worked on some readings.

did some researching trying to find article upon article.

worked on these bigger projects.

and made pumpkin chocolate-chip cookies while watching parenthood. 

(aka mynewfavoriteguiltypleasureshow.)

i'm nowhere near done.

but. you know. this breakandbreathe lyfe ain't so bad.

because everyone loves a good stream of consciousness.

i don't have an explanation for why i blackhole myself for days, weeks, or months sometimes. or why in the bloggitysphere, i do so and then post three times in one day. i couldn't tell you the last time i did that.

i do this thing where i think i've replied to someone, when in reality i forgot to do so, or sometimes it's just that i didn't hit send. it's sad how frequent this happens.

or i do the opposite, and i reply and text with whatyoudoingwhatyouthinkingthinkimprettywheredobabiescomefrom ad nauseum. like solnichka who would be silent for three days, and then talk for three days straight to make up for lost time. turns out we really are twins. my friennnzzzzz still love me, right? (uhhhhhhhhh.)

i'm really into the phrase ad nauseum lately.

speaking of solnichka. renae randomly called me in the middle of the day yesterday while i was on my way to a hearing screening training lab. and surprise calls are actually the best thing.

bean wrote me the most brilliant email today about islands, loneliness, and guilt. i must write more about it and expound sometime. it was so very insightful, though. i've learned much this week. about life and guilt and people and revelation and loneliness. and. most of all, about how much i don't know.

i chittered with kolya today in a middleoftheday call too. she is love and goodness and glittering joy. my sisters, you guys. i can't get over these sisters of mine. or the way they love me so purely and admire me so greatly, especially when i feel i hardly deserve it.

i've learned more about Jesus from my sisters than i ever could have imagined. i should write about that.

this morning i woke up to the alarm that's intended to tell me it's time to go. #greatday

growth feels like a loss. my grandmother said this. and i think it's genius. that grief, though.

i feel this gradschool lyfe has meant some new friends, but also the loss of many with whom i am no longer geographically connected. and that fact gives me heavy boots sometimes. i thought we were friends. oh wait.

my fatal flaw is the tendency to worry unnecessarily or prematurely. 

tomorrow i shall see meglet for the last time until christmas. i'm thrilled for her oxford masteringhogwarts adventure. but i'm also a little bit like.alltheweepingeyes.

to avoid this morning's rushed fiasco, i now bid you adieu.

because my words are all muddied these days. 

and so i leave you with, how's your heart?

always pertinent.

like a bandit.

i've never been so happy to be unemployed.

this summer was really hard. but. the other day i made a rory-style pro con list.

well. i began to--about something specific. and turns out the pros were double the cons.

so, i suppose it's not so bad.

i should do it for every part of summer. but i'm not there yet.

stenzie live in utah now and i'm pretttyyyyyy stoked about it.

i like the city of salt.

i don't know how to write anymore.

i am now officially unemployed. in anticipation of #emilyisgoingtogradschool.

oh wait. i already mentioned that? i need to reign in my excitement.

i promise one day i'll finish the writings i started about #emisgoingtogradschool. someday.

i've become obsessive about money and budgets and planning. (perhaps a little too much so.)

also. mint is really great. it feeds my inner need for seeming-control. #there'sanappforthat.

all at once too fast and incredibly slow.

i need to learn spanish. i know i keep saying this. i haven't yet, obviously. but. i need to learn spanish.

the new discoverweekly thing on spotify is actually the greatest.

i've met many people this summer. many interesting people. #twosummerjobs.

i could write a book. i should write a book. but alas. see point number five.

(i know. they're not numbered. just go with it.)

the sunflower explosions alongside every roadway are sometimes the highlight of my day.

and sometimes a bright spot among other bright spots of the day.

it just depends on the day, you know?

i have a thing for cemeteries. shariska does too, so obviously that makes it okay.

there are so many parts of my life that i feel like i can't openly talk about. only in person or with certain people.

i should be used to it. it's always been this way, but for some reason it's worse with age.

started with romania, then there's ukraine.

my profession in general is subject to hipaa.

and there are other parts of life that are secretish or private.

so like. good thing i can't talk about most parts of my life.

and don't want to talk about the other parts. (it'sgoinggreat.)

in case you were wondering why it's been so quiet around these parts, that sure does explain a lot of it.

this week showed me for the millionth time in my life--

even if sometimes ihateeveryone and think people are crazy, i was made for people.

my life needs people to function. (for examples, see here and here.)

speaking of people, i've been missing my people. my pheasants. 

also. i'm going through serious #megswithdrawals.

that means you.

insaneweeks and longtimenosee are the worst.

don't even remind me that she hasn't even left the country yet.

i'm marking it as a personal victory that i finally finished an email to jillian.

nevermind i started it a loooong time ago.

doingthinkingprettybabies.

and i leave you with a selfie of me in my byu is sunglasses and my new olivegreen shirt.

because i like saying olive green. it makes me feel more sophisticated than i am.

and because. why not?

was reading all of this as much of a waste of time as you're suspecting?

most likely.

feel free to compensate for that by giving this song a little listen.

or this one.

i've been fangirling over them lately.

especially the first.

okay.

that's all.

loveyoubaiiiiii.

with time to spare.

i have a complete intolerance for ever feeling useless.

do you ever get words or phrases trapped in your head? i do. maybe it's the writer in me, maybe it's that i think too much. on the day i was born the rain came down. that's one of those phrases that has its own track in my brain. i'm not sure what it means. just something.

i don't have many thoughts these days. or i have too many. and my words are stuck inside me. not necessarily trapped. i think some of them feel safer inside. but. they are stuck.

i just finished listening to a tree grows in brooklyn. (whilst commuting. i don't even want to know what that computes as for the amount of time i've spent driving to and from work this summer.) never read it? stop. right this very second. read it. a beautiful coming-of-age novel. a masterpiece on the art of living.

i've moved on to my next listeningwhilecommuting book--extremely loud and incredibly close. i wasn't in love with it at first, but at the same time. i can't stop. it is incredibly thought-provoking. i am in love with some of the passages.

i wondered if he knew. this is one of those thought-provokers. because it can mean much. and. in any situation, we may wonder about what the other can tell. what if we could always know how others perceive?

sometimes, i tend to do this thing where i assume everyone i know should know each other in addition to knowing me. and. obviously, sometimes this is true. but. not always. the other day at work, i saw the mother of a friend from high school. and after work i almost told someone from my ukraine-ing days about it, but realized they have absolutely no idea who these people are. why doesn't everyone know everyone? life's real questions.

if your life's biography were reduced to one word, what would that be? in extremely loud and incredibly close, there's this old man and a little boy. the little boy finds a card with a famous person's name on it and one other word. the old man says it's his biography--reduced to one word. this little boy, surprised that this is all he wrote, asks him if he couldn't write more. and the old man says, novels and novels could be written. but he chose one word. for cards and cards of people, he chose one word. and it made me to wonder two things: if i were one word, what would my word be? and. could there be novels and novels written about me and my life?

my to-do lists lately consist of things like this:
books i want to finish reading soon // observation hours for grad school to finish before orientation // temple. (it's sad how many times i moved this on my calendar before finally going. #workingonit.) // getting myself to write. really write. // getting myself to sleep. really sleep. (why is this so hard for me?)
not your average to-do list. but. it'll do, won't it? #summer? i realized today while chittering with someone about it, that this is one of the things i do when boredinclass, so to speak. i write my thinkerings in the margins of notebooks. or i write to-do lists in a planner. normal? don't answer that.

i'm just living for the little things these days. hold onto hope, love.

while i like change, i don't like extended periods of transition. i'm over it. i'm ready to belong for more than five minutes in some aspect of my life.

i'm in search of the remedy for when boots become heavy. them heavy boots. for all the heavy boots in the world. what is to be done? what even can be done?

i don't think there's an even distribution of recorded life events. most of that which has actually happened in my life--or even just in this summer--is nowhere to be found. most would never know one event or another, were they not involved. that's the other thing i realized in chittering today. so many things. no one ever knows. all those pieces of my biography. when it comes down to it, i prefer it that way. the many layers of krem.

and also. in other news. three years. THREE. i can't even. (more about this later. potentially.)



odd hodge podge of stream of consciousness going nowhere, anyone?

bask.

why do i feel like whenever i write something anymore it has to be a complete thought? my journals are a mess, and my posterity if ever wanting to compile any sort of anything is in for a treat.

june is two-thirds of the way over. it's been two months since i finished school. i'm not sure how to feel about it.

my life is in a state of upheaval. i'm not sure what it means or what will be. it just. is. ch-ch-ch-changes.

i sleep a lot. i love sunshine. last week was filled with delightful moments with delightful people.

i spend all my time sleeping, driving, enjoying sunshine, working, or driving. does anyone realize how completely useless the radio is? they literally play the same three songs on every station all day plus a million commercials. hellooooo, audiobooks. also. havingtodriveinconstructioneverydayistheworst.

i was walking through nordstrom today. (note: through. key word. ain'tnobodygotmoneyforthat.) there were these three men of retirement age who were also moseying through. i passed by them, all of us on our way towards the door. one made a joking comment to the others, this place. i don't have any money. you can come here someday when you have money. i chuckled to myself, because those are my thoughts every time i walk through. and then. i passed by them and went my merry way. then as i got in my car to drive away, i looked up, and saw these same three men get into two different cars. one had a bright red corvette. one a silver mustang. because he doesn't have any money.

i have an obsession with gilmore girls lately. because. NETFLIX, amiright?

sometimes when i drive through the provo town in the light of a summer evening's sunset, i get a renewed glimpse of the charm of provo in the spring and summer. though i'd had my share of it and it was time to move on, there's a certain charm of that college-town life. because. there's just a certain sense of life about provo.

ygm. f-o-x. crowd favorite.

i'm reading 3-4 different books right now. and i still feel deprived of intellectual stimulation. #byugrad keeps taking on such a different meaning than the one most people talk about.

being in the mountains is good for sanity.

a few days ago, i was working on some of the shtuff for grad school. and. i was excited. not just worrying about logistics. but actually excited. far better things ahead than any we leave behind, isn't that what they say?

i love summertime. but being grown up. well. that. that is simply overrated. regardless of the season.

( i miss my pheasants. )

little talks.

(inspired by megs.)

my favorite russian professor calls we with meg and shariska and greer "the fab four."

i'm sorry, is that condescending?
have one of the fab four look into this.
and in addition to already being my favorite,
he becomes even more so when he tells me why i'm the bee's knees.

my other favorite calls us a power house.

him: wow. the four of you in one apartment? that's what you call a power house.
me: or a house of terror.
(#theyloveus #russianmajors)

in fact, pretty much the entire russian department is my favorite.

(theylovemeandilovethemandsometimestheyvalidatemeanditmakesmywholelife.
like that time they told me the department is disappointed i'm graduating
because that they wanted to give me their russian scholarship.)
i love them all. and the only one i've never had as a professor?

well, last weekend we rode the horses of one of our russian professors.

belonging to this one professor i hadn't yet become acquainted with.

fudgyperfectbrownieswithmegwithit while discussing anna karenina exams.

spending almost four hours writing. by hand. today.

two hours was in english. 90 minutes was in russian.

jlln comes home in 8almost7 days. a couple days ago this is the photo i sent her of thisishowifeelaboutit:

(our jokesnotjokes about being married never stop being funny. or true.)

megs and i just now did a rousing rendition of the indiana jones theme song.
we'relosingourmindssssss.

senioritis is a different kind of lost motivation.

the issue with the exam we had to go take today wasn't the subject matter.

it was getting ourselves to go to the testing center to take the time to think and take it.

the soundtrack to the secret life of walter mitty is excellenceofallexcellence.
(i've never seen the movie, but i do recommend the soundtrack.)

we went to a wedding reception of an elder from my mission on saturday. #makayley

which included seeing some of the people in this world that i love most.

and this weekend there's a mission reunion.

(that i go back and forth on even wanting to go to, почему-то.)
all these loves of mine.

this weather, though. and also. i have an obscene number of photos of the blossoms on my phone.

and also, there's nothing like waking up to blossoms by your bedside.

a few mornings ago when i went running, there was a hot air balloon veryveryclose to our house.

and i love provo hot air balloons.

her name is pearl.

she was the calmest and my favorite.

from all the pretty little horses i got my first sunburn of the season. #worthit

if it seems like all i really talk about is

russian literature, russian professors,

jillian, my roommates, a handful of other people i love,

flowers, and the weather,

well--

you'd be right.

i get lost in my mind.