I could listen to the song below over and over and over and over again. I remember listening to it on the last day of school one year ago, driving away from campus with my windows rolled down. It's the best kind of song, and one of my newest old favorites.



With the end of this semester though, I feel a little different. This was my last semester at BYU. With only a few online classes left to take, I'll never again step back into the classroom, (at least that's what I'm telling myself for now :). But truthfully, I'll miss school. I feel like BYU was a huge chapter in my life. And it was. A whole five years.

I look back and am surprised at my own experiences; what I learned, and even what I'd do over again. In a very small, small way of saying things: I feel so grateful to have learned so much. It was in my first college writing class that I first read ee Cummings, "not even the rain has such small hands." It was then I knew I loved him. I remember as a sophomore sitting in my first Sociology course realizing how profoundly proud I was of my country, even if my Professor didn't seem to be.

Everything from reading Dante's Divine Comedy to reporting for KBYU Eleven News, it's almost ironic that some of my favorite memories were in some of my most difficult classes. So today I feel like I'm not only taking the past three months with me, but the last five years -- so much stretching and shaping and changing and growing and learning and really, so many wonderful, wonderful things.

I could go on and on about my experience at college; what I would recommend and what I wouldn't. What I'd change and what I'd keep the same. But for now, I just plan on listening to this song once again on my drive home this last day of the semester. I'll forget for just a moment that this chapter is ending.

And then I'll let myself feel really, really grateful.

confession session.

The first time I ever had a confession session was on a Friday night with the "7up girl gang" on a drive up the canyon with nothing else to do. We stopped by Macey's and picked up our favorite bags of cookies, and made the drive talking for hours that night. I don't know why, but the tradition continues on, and March the 1st seems to be the day that it all just happens again.

Confession Session #4

1. One thing I terribly regret and would do over again if I could: stay at BYU-Hawaii longer. I was so insistent on coming back to Provo (don't ask me why) to be near my friends here at the Y, but that was a mistake. Huge mistake.

2. I listened to this song for an entire week after Max got home.

3. I don't mean to brag, but... no cavities.

4. One word: kisstixx. To save my dad giving me a phone call, that's all I'll say about that.

5. I have actually hidden under my desk at work. Long story.

6. I have never, ever eaten a tomato.

7. I probably burned about 3,904,850,049,304,935 cd's before I owned an iPod. Not a joke. Heaston would always say that I could bring the 90's back with how many CD's I owned.

8. Did I ever write about the day that I got to talk to Elder Holland on the phone? After speaking with him for a few minutes, he told me that he considered me a daughter that he loved, and that truly remains one of the sweetest things anybody has ever told me in my entire life. There is nobody on earth who has a happier or sweeter voice.

9. I get onto Disneyland.com and plan pretend vacations at least once a week.

And last but not least,
Number 10. I know Buddy the Elf already said it, but I'm in love, I'm in love, and I don't care who knows it!

--

Confession Sessions: 1, 2 & 3

(thanks for the picture Sarbear)

it's a great feeling.

Life got brighter, and somehow, the world suddenly got brighter, too. You know how this is? You’re walking along, and then the sun comes out from behind a cloud, and the birds start to sing, and the air is suddenly warm, and it’s like the whole world is happy because you’re happy. It’s a great feeling.
- Gary D. Schmidt

Laughed out loud several times this morning as I read The Wednesday Wars at work (thanks to Mandy for the recommendation!) I feel like Holling Hoodhood summed up life the last little while, even with the freezing cold temperatures (like 8 degrees?) and the falling on ice part of my Monday morning.

Weekend in photos above.
Don't know if anything is better than catching snow on your tongue, making chocolate covered Oreos, and watching the Christmas Devotional at the conference center with some of your best friends, (one of them who happens to be really cute, too).

taking it all in.

While sitting underneath blankets and scarves in our leather jackets, we tried to take all of autumn in. It was the first time in seven weeks I think I really let myself think about nothing at all, and I made only one mental note: I need to do this more often.

The drive through Sundance all the way up to Aspen Grove surely has to be one of the prettiest things I've seen in all my life. Especially when it came to the yellow leaves on the aspen trees; they were so bright it looked like gold, and we even had to listen to this Coldplay song twice because of it. Maybe even three times.

And then came our picnic: apple pie, cream soda, and honey butter with bread. Baguette bread, to be clear. I don't know where that idea even came from, (perhaps from our self-scheduled Saturday morning French lessons?) but I'm a baguette-bread-picnic-eater for life now.

And I know I said it last time, (and maybe even last year) but this fall is my favorite. I've lived through 21 of them before, but number 22 seems to be taking the cake. And to be honest, I don't even know why. This semester certainly has been the most difficult. The past few weeks have definitely had more ups and downs and disasters than I can count. But the weather makes me feel like its "my best day" nearly every day - and although I don't know why, I'll take it.

will defend the silver lining.

Last night Kylie and I had a late Birthday celebration with lunch pails, sparklers, bubble gum and diet cokes. We sat in our usual spot and talked about what we usually do, like how life rarely ever goes according to plan. But something I can count on is friendship. She is one of the only people I can have a conversation with, without saying anything at all.


After hitting a bucket on the freeway the other day (never-ending road construction, thank you) I took my car in to get an estimate of how much it would cost to be repaired; the sweetest old man came out to take a look at it, and surprised me when he said, "For you, it's free!" Even when I insisted on paying him something, he refused. I went home and wrote the first thank you card I had in a while, and I felt so grateful I couldn't even find the right words I wanted to say.


And I'm sunburned. Sometimes I hate it when that happens because people like to tell you that you're red, but this time I don't mind because it means I had a summer day yesterday, and I don't have too many of those left.


So a combination of mosquito bites, early mornings and feeling blessed sums up most of this week. And even though it's almost the end of summer, I'm not that sad.
At least not when John Mayer comes on the radio.

blessings book.

I got an email a few weeks ago from a fellow blogger asking me if I would mind sending her a list of my ten favorite things to be included on her blog. I was more than happy to, and decided that at the risk of sounding slightly redundant, I'd write out a few of the things that make me the happiest today:

Reading under the covers early in the morning.Books so clever they make me wish I was that way too.

Cherry chapstick. That smell makes me want to fall over or fall in love. I love it.

Muddy buddies and Jack Sprat toast for breakfast. Judge away.

Vacuum lines in the carpet. I would vacuum every morning just for those lines if the people who lived below me wouldn't be annoyed to death. They already stopped me in the elevator once just to tell me that my apartment must be very clean from all the vacuuming that goes on. Ha, if they only knew.

The smell of summertime.

Texting my mom, dad and sister - all at the same time, all about different things, but all ending in I love you's.


About a year ago, I read a talk given by President Henry B. Eyring that suggested writing down your blessings every single night before going to bed. It's kind of like a journal, but now I just refer to it as my blessings book. I don't want to stand on a soap box, but I'm going to anyway for only just a second.

Ahem.

I cannot even begin to express how much has changed just by simply writing down a blessing, or even something small that made me happy over the past 14 months. I don't want to exaggerate the point, but there is no other way of putting it: it changed my life. If I could find even the smallest thing on the worst day that somehow made me recognize the good, I started to look for it more and more. I started to recognize it more and more. And so even when I felt like throwing myself in front of a bus (because lets be honest, some days you just feel like that) I'd still find something to be grateful for that night while writing it down in this book.

And to be fair... sometimes I was lame and would write something like: water, (ha) for what would have been lack of enthusiasm, or it was just really late at night, but I swear to you - even writing water made me feel great. And now I notice those great days come most of the time, rather than less of it.

And who knows, one day this might all be a huge secret to success.
Maybe.


But that's all I got for now. Off the soap box.

class of '07.

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.


--


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.

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.

just to be alive.

I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.
-Agatha Christie

i like this.


and i like that i might maybe even meet david beckham tonight, too.
(one can dream right?)
maybe he'll at least blow me a kiss from the soccer field.


happy weekend!


[via ridesabike]

japan.

After seeing this on a few of the blogs that I follow, I decided although it's a "bloggers day of silence," I had something I wanted to say on the subject of Japan.

One week ago, I woke up to missed phone calls and several text messages asking about one of my best friends* who is currently serving an LDS mission in Japan. Needless to say, I think I said about 17 prayers by the time I jumped out of bed and ran to the television to see what was going on.

Although I have since learned that my friend is safe and is far out of harms way, my heart aches for the many, many victims who are still hurting. Only a few weeks before the earthquake and tsunami hit Japan, I remember watching the news after an earthquake in Christchurch, New Zealand, and although my parents (who currently live on the North island in New Zealand) happened to be in Utah visiting at that time, I remember the overwhelming feeling: "What if?"

Years before that, my grandparents had been living in Thailand during the 2004 tsunami, and although I was only 14 at the time, I still remember the phone calls between my mother and her brothers and sisters, anxious to hear about their parents safety.

So much of what I see or hear about on the news is scary and unsettling -- but it is especially so when some of the people I love the most have been involved. And although I am incredibly grateful and blessed for the safety of my friends and family over the years, I was especially moved the other night as I watched an interview with an elderly man riding his bicycle around what was left of his home in Japan; when asked what he was doing, he told the cameras he was still looking for his wife and wasn't going to give up searching.

At times we may feel like there isn't much we can do, but I found this website helpful -- and especially for those of you who are bloggers (and even those who aren't) this particular website deemed helpful as well. Sometimes even the smallest amount can go a long way.


--


*read: love of my life.

photo found here

the caramel apple on my doorstep.

To whoever left a caramel apple on my doorstep:

I normally don't cry (...okay, that's actually a lie...) but today I cried a lot. Anyone I spoke to between 4 and 5:30 PM can testify of that.

But when I opened the door this evening seconds after I heard the doorbell ring, no one was there -- but I saw the caramel apple. Which most notably came with a pink bow.

I don't know who you are, but consider yourself one of my best friends. Because whoever you are (whether you knew it or not) you just made my day. And provided my dinner. And made me so, so, so happy, because I knew my math class (and other such things) were no longer worth being sad about. So I am thankful. And grateful. And happy.

And feel very blessed.

it's my best day ever.

The same boss, who asks me every Monday morning if I've fallen in love over the weekend,
Who wears a little top hat and sweater every day to work (despite the temperature outdoors)
Has definitely fallen onto the list of my favorite people, ever.

Every afternoon when I first greet him by asking how his day is going, he replies:
"Oh it's my best day ever."

In fact,
I don't think there's been one day in the past year and a half of working here, that he hasn't told me it was his best day ever.

(with only one exception, and that was when he came into work with a black eye - but according to him that morning, it was his "second best day ever.")



And honestly? I love it. Do you remember when you were little and you'd hear a phrase and it sounded so cool so you wanted to start using it all the time?
(think: i don't grow up, i throw up, and when you see it, you lick it up, because you think it's 7up)

Third grade? I know.




But I also know that whenever I hear "it's my best day ever," I start to feel like it's my best day ever, too.

So I decided it's about time I start saying it.

Who knew a part time job could be so great?

7up girls.

I used to call myself a 7up girl (hence the name 7upkels) - and I usually forget about those days until someone brings it up. Whenever they do, mind you, the 7up girls are usually an easy target for a joke (and I have to admit, I understand why) but back when the 7up girls were in full swing, I was most definitely a part of it.

And we made notebooks.

That's all you really need to know, because truthfully, I think that's what we were best known for. These notebooks were filled with a lot of things, but mainly, they documented most of our memories. Things like "Our Crushes," "Our Favorite Songs," or even "7up girl quotes" -- (easy targets for an easy joke becomes painfully obvious right about now) -- really, the notebooks were full of silly things like that. But the one thing I look back on and am still completely amused by, was our time line. I think that's my favorite.

The time line was a pretty simple way of documenting the simple adventures of high school. It consisted of only the most noteworthy events that took place in our lives, and these were just a few:

Kelsie has drivers ed with Austin Pritchett
Sara gets over Zac Fox
Cassie goes to Sadies with Chris
7up Girl meeting held in Kelsie's backyard - a lot was covered.

Riveting, I know.

But honestly, the more I thought about it tonight as I reminisced with old friends, the more I realized that if I were to document my own life on a time line right now, it would look completely different. I forget about that cute boy in class by the time I walk out of it. I don't think about the football games I go to, or write down about lunch when all the 7upgirls are back together, (in fact, getting everyone together is about the hardest thing in the world these days anyway). Actually, looking at the closest thing that resembles a time line, my past journal entries make me sound like I've turned into an old woman, always going to bed early and staying up late on weekends to study. What has become of me?

Yes, I'm excited about my future, especially as a broadcast journalism major (and yes, I can officially say that now!) the traveling, internships, relationships, and all that's yet to come... But I almost miss the days when I didn't worry about those days: when I was excited about drivers ed with Austin Pritchett, even if it was at 6:30 in the blessed a.m.

But only just a little.

ambiguity.

One by one the petals drop
There's nothing that can make them stop.
You cannot beg a rose to stay.
Why does it have to be that way?

The butterflies I used to chase
Have gone off to some other place.
I don't know where. I only know
I wish they didn't have to go.

And all the shiny afternoons
So full of birds and big balloons
And ice cream melting in the sun
Are done.I do not want them done.
-Judith Viorst
I consider myself having some sort of a mix between a Peter Pan Complex and a Martha Stewart Syndrome (I kind of invented that last one).
I sometimes hate the idea of change, or at least the change that I wasn't planning on.
And sometimes I decide (a little too early on) how my life should and shouldn't turn out, and that basically boils down to me being tremendously idealistic.

We should be friends forever because that's what it's like in the movies.
I need to marry him (yes him!) because we fell in love when I was only 17.
I have to graduate with this degree, because, after all, my blonde hair makes me look the part.

And fortunately or unfortunately, depending on the day, I'm realizing more and more and more that life does not go according to plan --
And it's not as if I was ever naive enough to think that it did necessarily, but in my mind there was one road map to my life, and the detours and back roads were only a little part of the picture. Everything else would still inevitably fall into place of course, just like I had planned.
But I've been proven wrong.

Admittedly, it was a little hard for me to swallow at first, but for whatever reason over the last little while I've not only come to terms with it, but have sort of grown fond of the idea that I really have no idea where I'm going to end up.

So the Martha Stewart Syndrome is kind of fading, my desire to never grow old is being replaced by some of my other hopes and dreams --
But one thing that isn't changing (and maybe I kind of hope it never does)
is the fact that I remain tremendously idealistic.
Tomorrow always looks better that way.

a little bit about life.

I spent my first semester of college living on the island of Oahu in a tiny little town called Laie, where I spent most of my time on the beach enjoying snow cones from Angel's Ice Cream Shop and stressing about Biology (I hated Biology).

Thinking back, one of my favorite memories had to be my daily trips to Temple Beach. Somehow, despite the Hawaiian sunshine, I always seemed to be getting myself caught in freak thunderstorms seriously seconds after I would lay my textbooks and towel down in the sand. It happened so often that it eventually became routine for me to make a detour to the nearest bus stop for cover, waiting for the clouds to disappear, and for the warm, friendly sun to return.

Although I blame my pale skin (despite my religious tanning efforts) to the daily rain storms, the best part about waiting at the bus stop was the conversations I'd find myself having with some of the locals. Although they rarely wore shoes, I never caught someone without a smile. When first meeting someone new, they'd act as if you were some long lost family member, completely eligible and welcome to anything they owned: their home, their food, their families (maybe even their inheritance). I do believe the Polynesian people are some of the most generous people on the planet, and I'd give an arm and a leg to go back.

But as ideal as that lifestyle sounds, truthfully, I was so homesick the first few weeks of school that I don't think I was able to fully recognize the most beautiful and wonderful adventure I was about to have. Hiking to unknown waterfalls, jumping off of cliffs, taking a hula class which replaced a P.E. credit (score), and spending Sunday evenings with friends on Sunset beach singing along with Jack Johnson and a ukulele; I miss it all so much sometimes, that I catch myself wishing I could go back and experience that part of college all over again.

But like everything else in life, that adventure of mine eventually came to an end. Although Christmas break back home in Utah was originally the only thing I found myself looking forward to, I know now that time goes by so quickly as it is, it's almost like doing yourself a disfavor by wishing it would go by any faster.
(Which reminds me of a Children's Book of Virtues story I read as a kid -- did anyone else read those??)

Anyway, the whole point of this rather long and nostalgic post was to basically say this: life goes by fast, and it seems to be going by faster the older I get. And considering I only have a few more semesters left until college graduation, and understanding that this time of life is fleeting and evanescent as it is (new favorite word) - I have finally made the decision to spend my upcoming summer in Takapuna, New Zealand.

I know myself well enough to know that I will miss my friends before I even get on the plane.
I might even miss 178 weddings because that's the road everyone seems to be taking.
I'll miss my job and the wonderful people I work with.
I hesitate in admitting this, but ... I might even miss Provo.

But this time, as much as I'll miss the things about home, I find the possibility and promise of a new adventure more and more exciting exciting as days go by.

And the first thing I intend on doing when I arrive in April?
Pick up a New Zealand accent, (and eat all the Tim Tams I can possibly handle). Cross my heart, it is the most attractive (and most delicious) thing ever.

life is for sharing.

i've cried tears of happiness twice this past week.
i'm on a roll.
as i stalked cute blogs in my broadcast lab this morning,
i stumbled onto this video
and the last 30 seconds of it made me cry.

why exactly?
i'm not sure.
maybe it just put things into perspective --
lately i've become so absorbed with the uncertainty of "planning my future,"
that after watching only two minutes of this video,
i was reminded again of what is most important.

life is meant to be shared,
and that is something (despite whatever the future holds)
i can always be certain of.

and love yourself so more than truly.

those mornings when i wake up either a little too early or a little too late, (like today)
or when all i really feel like doing is burying myself back in my blankets, (especially today)
there is a remedy i have found while reading one of my personal favorites, mr ee cummings.

"may my heart always be open to little birds
who are the secrets of living
whatever they sing is better than to know
and if men should not hear them men are old
...
and even if it's sunday may i be wrong
for whenever men are right they are not young
and may myself do nothing usefully
and love yourself so more than truly"

even though the poem doesn't end here, i have a hard time continuing on with the lines that follow, because i love that final thought more than anything,
to"love yourself so more than truly."

i woke up needing to remind myself that today is going to be a good day,
but ee cummings did that for me.

...and the moon

With freedom, books, flowers, and the moon, who could not be happy?Oscar Wilde

mr. wilde, we think alike.

"i shall not pass this way again"

"In such rare splendor that my heart, Would ache from scenes like these to part."
-Eva Rose York

i read this the other day,
and i think i feel the same way just a little too much.

photo via.