We are Orem and don't you forget it!

Three years ago, I graduated from high school. 

That. Is. Crazy. 

I don’t feel like it was that long ago. I don’t feel like there is any way possible that I have been in college for three years--heck, I still don’t know for sure what I am doing! I am turning 21 in a few short weeks but I still feel like I should be 12...then again, I have my moments when I swear I am coming on 30 faster than I think. And the part that is the weirdest: I have been out of high school long enough for me to have gone to high school again. 3 years. 

Three years ago I woke up with a stomach ache. I wanted to throw up. I recited my speech in the shower 30 times, grabbed my role of new 2010 pennies, put on my sister’s beautiful cream dress (why? I don’t know. It wasn’t like anyone would see anything but the blue, blue, BLUE robes. But I still felt prettier with the dress on underneath), got in my granny’s car and drove to the Marriott center at BYU to give my goodbye speech, lose my cords before walking through the O (no proof that I was an academic anything), and bawl my way through a few sentimental choral pieces before having an embarrassing moment in front of a camera (wish I had more pictures now) and being whisked away in my high school sweetheart’s car for a oh so delicious steak dinner. 

Three years ago I had a very different plan. When I thought ahead three years, I thought I would:

A- be married

B- only have a semester, maybe two (maybe none) left of school

C-be a lot prettier/more amazing/more talented/smarter/healthier/nicer/more organized/confident than I am 

I had a plan, people. Nothing ended up working out according to that plan. And I am really grateful for that! But I can’t help thinking a lot about high school right now. The people, the places, the games, the dances, the assemblies, the activities, and the classes that shaped me, packaged me up, stamped me with a diploma, and shipped me off to the real world. Three years later and I still look back at high school fondly. That is pretty good I would say. In fact, I miss it. There are days I would give anything for the tests, grading scales, schedules, activities, and dramas of being an Orem High Tiger again. If only the end of the world was still not finding a parking spot after pride lunch and almost missing the bowling bus. If only worry and anxiety still came from eight page explications (what a piece of cake those actually were) or what dress I was going to wear to preference. If only the only things I had to care about was whether or not our football team was going to make state, if anyone else on student council had any ideas for the upcoming spirit bowl, and if there was time for a Friday afternoon nap before the game. I wish my favorite place to go was still the old lounge. I wish all my classes were still in the same building. I wish I was still a straight  A student. I wish I could still go to date dances. 

But NOOOO! High school ends. The fun ends. The carelessness ends. Bowling class...well, that doesn’t end. You can take all the bowling classes you want on campus but Sheide ends. Tricking your teacher into having reading days with pillows and popcorn ends. Easy ends. Knowing classmates ends. Your name and everything you have built yourself up to be becomes a nine digit number and, you guessed it... ends. 

Here are some good things about college:

-You can (sometimes) choose when to take classes to work around your sleeping, partying, working, churching, and dating agendas.

-Your parents can’t check your grades anymore or get you in trouble with your teachers

-You can use your cell phone during lecture!!! (saves my life)

-You don’t have to spit out your gum or hang up your hat when you walk into class

-Your tests score appear magically on a screen after you take it so you can ignore it or glory over it without mr. smarty pants behind you asking “what score did you get” making you want to sit in a corner with a dunce cap. 

But, busy work in no way disappears, teachers still have pets, and your acne, frizzy hair, dry skin, and extra weight do not magically go away. In fact, they get worse! (I am acting like my high school self again...how sentimental I am being). Anyway, I miss you OHS. Literally, I miss you. Now you are a big shiny building with strange halls, multiple levels, pretend “gold and blue” tiles, and a soccer field where once stood the place where I spent three of the happiest years of my life--construction and all. Yes we may have lacked at athletic ability but our confidence was strong. Yes, we may have had asbestos and will all develop weird cancers in our forties but the videos were worth it. Yes, Spencer may have been around any corner ready to kiss you but carrying a rape whistle is probably essential anyway. We live in a scary world. I went to a scary high school. I loved it. 

I love you OHS. I love you rusty. I love you class of 2010. 

(I love you too BYU, I just needed a dramatic high school moment)

Word.

-C

Something New

To be honest, I never thought I would do this whole blog thing. I love reading other people's blogs. They inspire me, give me ideas, help me set goals in my life, give me something to . . . think about. Some of them remind me of how I NEVER want to turn out and other's give me hope for a future filled with happiness and a hand to hold during hard times. I have always been an avid journal writer but when it comes to what I write in my journal I am stuck. I am so concerned with getting the dates, people, and places down that my hand hurts too badly for me to include what I think and how I feel about life. I end up writing those thoughts and ideas on pieces of scratch paper or in corners of soon-to-be-forgotten school notebooks. For how much I love to write, it is a surprise to many people that I do not have a blog already to which most of you I have replied "I'm not that cliche."

But I fold. The more I think about it, the more I want this little corner of the universe to be mine. I have fought the urge to start a blog for several months now but with some of the recent circumstances and situations I find myself in, now seems like the perfect time to act on my weakness. (I justify my actions by making this a "private" blog--and the thing is, I really don't care if anyone reads what is written here anyway. This is more for me than it is for you).

We all handle life differently. I handle it through words. Sometimes by writing letters, sometimes by writing poems or short stories, sometimes by writing songs. It doesn't matter. I just want this to be the hub of all those words. A place where I can get out what I want to say. Who knows, maybe some of my words will end up making a difference, like so many of the blogs I have read have made a difference to me.

So welcome to my wor(l)d. My heartache. My joy. This is what inspires me.

Word.
-C