Class of 07. from Kelsie Christensen on Vimeo.

This isn't the first video I've shared online, but this is definitely where it all started. We began documenting life through our videos toward the end of our senior year in high school, and now I'm so unbelievably grateful we did - (despite Wes, Heaston and Ben protesting it most of the time.)

When I watched this video a few months ago with some of the friends who are in it, I could hardly believe that four years had passed since I wore my red gown with gold tassels, and tossed my graduation cap up in the air. Admittedly, I would never trade even the stressful or more hectic parts of life now, for my untroubled cares at seventeen -- but a part of me will always seem to miss it deep down.

And although I don't think I could have told you where exactly we'd all be four years from that day, (engaged, married, single, nursing/film/broadcast/elementary ed degrees, returned missionaries, only 5 months left missionaries, engaged after only one month, married for almost three years -- etc etc etc) I bet I at least could have told you we'd all still be friends.

Phone friends, only-see-each-other-every-few-months friends, friends who still put too much salt on their food, friends who still believe Merlin lives at Maple Lake, friends who sing along with The Rocket Summer and Jamison Parker, friends who are finally friends again, and friends who are still in love... Whatever we are to each other, I'm just glad we're still there.


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And PS...
While we're taking this trip down memory lane, it should be noted that the only name they got wrong out of the hundreds of students during the graduation ceremony was... yours truly.
Yep.
As they snapped my picture for the entire McKay Events Center to see (think: at least two thousand people) they announced me as "Malerie Loveland" instead of Kelsie Christensen. My jaw dropped to the floor and my final glorious moments as a Spanish Fork Don were unsurprisingly somewhat of a disaster. Literally my face was as red as my cap and gown - so it's a good thing red was one of our school colors anyway.

sunny with a high of seventy five.

After trying the cinnamon pull apart bread at Great Harvest the other weekend, (the newest contender for the best dessert I've probably ever had) I decided to make my first loaf of bread - and not just any loaf of bread - but a cinnamon swirl loaf of bread.


I was hoping that it would put my mothers homemade bread to shame (nearly impossible) - so it was unfortunate that the dough tasted better than the actual bread. Regardless, I would give myself 7 out of 10 stars. 5 for trying, 2 for using less sugar than it called for (which is why it tasted more cinnamony than sugary) but 1 star for trying to be healthy. 7 stars.

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We also discovered La Jolla Groves the other weekend (on a bike ride, of course) during one of our trips down to the Riverwoods. When we noticed the twinkle lights in the windows and the lemons hanging from the trees, we knew we would have to try it out.


So try it out we did! And in my most humble opinion? It smelled like lemons, we were allowed to order off the kids menu, and the water boy was super cute. 8 out of 10 stars.

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And I saved the best for last, because the last is the best of all the game.


This drink machine has become our treat machine. We stop by every day on our way home from the gym, just so we can pick from 3,029,482,093,852,093 different sodas off the touch screen menu. And okay, there are actually only 101 options - but still... One hundred and one. From one machine. It's like the drink machine of the future. Our children will be a part of this sugar revolution. I am convinced Willy Wonka was the brains behind it.

And best of all? It's at Cafe West -- aka my home away from home. So it's kind of like fate again.
10 out of 10 stars my friends.

The end.

lilac bushes make me happy, as does the lion king.

I've lost everything: my job, my future, everything people think is important, but I don't care - because even if I have to dig ditches for the rest of my life, I shall be a ditch-digger who once had a wonderful day.-Hello, Dolly!

Is everyone else getting as sick of me talking about my bike as I am? It's why I included another quote. It makes up for my repetitiveness.

But lets be honest for just a minute: People have their blogs to talk about their happy spouses, their darling children, and even their Vogue-worthy wardrobe.

Unfortunately, I own none of the above.

But I do have a bike named Thelma.
I have a best friend named Kylie.
And I have a whole summer ahead of me.*

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*this summer including, but not limited to: finding the ice cream man, racing newspaper boats down the river, trying every soda at Blickenstaff's, sliding down the blue slide (the biggest one!) at 7 Peaks, performing The Circle of Life at Muse Cafe, crashing Heaston's wedding (...kidding), and going to a baseball game.


That's all I ask for now. Well, that and lilacs, and I only say lilacs because it compliments the pictures above, and because there are no such things as forget-me-not bushes.

the end of harry potter.

About six months ago, I began to read Harry Potter for the first time. Years later than most everyone else, I discovered Hogwarts and Quidditch, Dumbledore's love and wisdom, Harry's goodness and courage, and most especially, a much greater love for friendship and bravery.

I've been so excited to begin a lot of my other summer reading, (like: Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close and The Help. I breezed over them both while at Barnes & Noble this past weekend and had to be pulled away) Except once I finally finished the last page in the last Harry Potter book, I didn't feel like reading anything else. In a weird way, it's like I had to allow myself at least twenty-four hours to "mourn" the end of the Harry Potter series.

Is that too much?
Most likely.

But if anything, that means all the late nights regardless of early morning classes were well worth it. The first book that ever made me feel similar was A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith. I must have read it when I was twelve or thirteen years old, but I remember crying throughout the final chapters, not only because Francie was growing up, but because the book was ending.

It all sounds silly, but finishing a book can almost feel as sad as goodbye.

photo

three truths and a lie.

i like my bike.
i like the color yellow.
i like shorts almost more than skirts.
and i like you.

these are all actually true, but i'll keep the title anyway.

ps.
you can't tell, but my shirt says: bicycles are for lovers.
holy smokes, that was my best ever summer t-shirt find here.

summer plans.

So as I mentioned a little while ago, life is short and that means it's probably worth an adventure or two. Or three or four or five.

Once I was accepted in my newly chosen major, I decided that to speed up the graduation cycle, I would stay for spring semester at the Y... which, so far, I've come to two conclusions about spring semester classes:

1. There is something completely wrong with summer and school combined. It may be just me, but waking up at 7 for a class when it feels like summer outside? It's like fighting against mother nature from within. There's just something inside of me that doesn't let those two things easily combine.

2. Parking is actually possible though, (bad parking and BYU go hand in hand just like marriage does) --but knowing there will always be a spot for me in the Y lot? I'm a happy, sleepy, happy camper.

Annnyyywaay. Spring semester will be ending soon, (another pro of summer classes: 6 weeks fly by!) And once that is over, my parents will be making another trip to their native land of America and will be in town for the fourth of July (so excited for family and a holiday to combine this year!) And then... my friends, I leave.
July 8th to be exact.
So my summer in New Zealand will end up being more like 6 weeks of vacationing, but six weeks beats two, and New Zealand beats a lot of other places, and being with two parents who are about as cool as me, well - that beats all of them combined. Bon voyage!


photos via my dads fb page.

a rainy-ish monday afternoon.

We take the back road to Wills Pit Stop because the streets look like we just pedaled our way out of Provo. Whenever we take our bikes out to that particular picnic spot of ours, I feel like we leave our small college town and let go of everything that has anything to do with it.

And that is what I needed the most this weekend.

No, I don't like to blog a lot about bad days, even though I have them. And I don't usually like to focus on what might not be right, even though it might seem ignorant. No, most of the time I think I would rather focus on the good, because if it counts for anything at all, I think that it's something I'm good at.

But when I do have a bad day, or something frustrating happens, and I have puffy eyes or a sad heart, I pedal my bike on the back roads to Wills Pit Stop. I pretend that the pretty houses along the stream, and my blueberry pixie sticks and her honey lemonade are the only things that matter to me. And even if it's just for an hour or two, it's nice to let go of everything else.

photo

mother dearest.

All that I am or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.
-Abraham Lincoln

No matter where she is in the world, she is always putting others before herself.
And I'm lucky to have her as mine.
My best friend, my all-too-often advice giver, and my example day in and day out, of the woman and mother I hope to become one day too.

Happy Mothers Day Mom! I love you.

thought for the day.

The first test of a truly great man is his humility... I do not mean, by humility, doubt of his own power... (but really) great men have a curious feeling that greatness is not in them, but through them... And they see something divine in every other man... and are endlessly, foolishly, incredibly merciful.
-John Ruskin

I feel like my dad has essentially said this same thing to me dozens of times, more or less in the same way as Mr. Ruskin.
And it really, really makes a lot of sense, and I'm noticing this really, really means a lot more to me the older I get.

kenken.

We ate lunch this weekend on the floor.
We missed the Disney movie Prom.
We had two sleepovers.
We ate fried chicken in bed.
And we learned this dance.

If she didn't already have a boyfriend, I'd probably date her.
That's how much I love kenken.