The Law of the Garage Door

There is a strange phenomenon in my life, which I have come to call the Law of the Garage Door.

When the Garage Door is wide open, you don't think, "Hey, I'd better get the rake out of there, in case I need it." If the Door is open, you figure you have all the time in the world to get the rake if you want it. What's the hurry? The rake's not going anywhere.

The moment that the Garage Door begins to close, though, the rake becomes a matter of urgency. You may not even want the rake right then, but there is that gnawing possibility that maybe SOMEDAY you'll need it, and if that Garage Door closes with the rake still inside, you're S.O.L. ("so out of luck," as Ms. Ellis would say).

This happens all the time in dating. That's why when a sister missionary puts in her papers, all of the sudden the boys are clamoring for dates. The Door is closing.

In my life, it happens right before I am about to leave a place. I can spend four years of near-datelessness--the Door is wide open. The moment the Door shows signs of closing . . .

Maybe it's not the possibility of wanting the rake at all. Maybe it's the fact that if the Door is closing and they try really hard to get the rake, but don't quite make it under before it shuts, they don't have to feel like the rake didn't want to go with them. They can just say, "Yeah, too bad that Door shut."

If it doesn't work out between me and him or him or him or him, we can all say, "What lousy timing! Sucks." No one has to feel bad about themselves. It's the ultimate solution for someone who is afraid of commitment. We can follow the social scripts without the expectation of a Relationship, since I'm leaving in a couple of weeks. Brilliant.

By the way, I'm looking for a summer fling. If you're interested, apply within.

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end.

I keep forgetting that I'll be out of here permanently in a few weeks. I keep forgetting that maybe I should say "goodbye" more carefully than just a muttered, "See ya later," or a blown kiss, or a high five. This is more than "smell ya later." This is full on, "I may never see you again in my life."

You know how "bittersweet" is an emotion? There should be others. Happysad. Excitedscared.

I've been on an emotional roller coaster lately. I don't know what to feel anymore. I miss Texas, but I'm worried that as soon as I arrive back in D-town, I'll miss Utah (well, maybe not Utah . . . but the people that are in Utah). In some ways, I feel like I'm leaving just as I'm hitting my stride. At the same time, it's true that I can't just freeze time here forever. It'll never be the same as it is at this moment. People leave. People change. I am not who I was when I came here four years ago.

In a way, it's for that very reason that I'm scared to go back to Denton. The friends I had in high school . . . will they still be my friends now? I've grown and changed, and so have they. What if we're not compatible anymore? What if, despite my deepest desires to the contrary, I have assimilated to BYU-culture and will return to Denton as much a fish out of water as I was upon my arrival here four years ago?

Sigh.

In Other News, I've decided that I am, in fact, an affection slut. There are several factors that play into this:
1. I've always been a cuddly-type.
2. I have no personal space bubble.
3. I have problems saying "no."
4. Making other people feel good makes me happy.

I worry about myself for these reasons. While I've been here in the Happy Valley, no one has really tried to take advantage of me . . . well, not in so many words (there is no such thing as "hand-holding rape"). Outside of the Valley, though, I'm afraid I'll be an easy target. Hmmm . . . I really need to learn how to say no.

But . . . I really like cute boys. A lot.

Oh, I guess I'll miss BYU

Things on my "must-do while at BYU" list that remain yet undone (and will probably never be done by me):

*hike the Y
*go skiing
*have a boyfriend
*take Social Dance 180
*attend DanceSport
*attend a Vocal Point concert
*watch an entire BYU sporting event
*go on a blind date
*go to a mocktail party
*makeout under the Bell Tower
*go on a date to devotional, fireside, stake or general conference, etc.
*learn the Cougar Fight Song
*purchase BYU apparel
*be an EFY counselor
*eat at the Skyroom
*take a class from Bro. Bott
*speak in a BYU ward
*go to the Holi festival at the Hare Krishna temple
*go to the Llamafest at the Hare Krishna temple

I Wish . . .

. . . that I could figure out once and for all how to like myself. I don't know why I have to always be swinging so rapidly from high to low self-esteem.

Why can't I let someone else be smart (or kind, or thoughtful, or hard-working, or beautiful, or a wonderful musician, or charming, or witty . . . ) without undermining my own positive qualities? Why, when I look at someone who is all of those things, do I say to myself, "You'll never be that," rather than "It's great that he / she is that way" or "What can I learn from him / her?" Why do I love others so much more than I like myself? Why do I see the good in others and only the faults in myself? And why do I compare the best I see in others with the worst I find in myself?

I know that if I'm feeling this way, it's because I'm looking for evidence to support the fact that I'm a sub-par human being--and whatever I'm looking for, I will find. I could easily catalog a hundred reasons that give me reason to believe I'm shy of the mark. It would take more thinking to find as many reasons to support the idea that I'm worthwhile.

My internal dialogue is so intense that I imagine other people talking to me or talking about me. I imagine my friends getting together and saying things like "She would be pretty if she would just lose weight" or "She could be a pretty good student if she weren't such a slacker" (that is, the things that I tell myself all the time)--as if my friends have nothing better to do than sit around and talk about all my Achilles Heels.

It's a hard balance to strike. There are definitely things about myself that I would love to change, but at the same time, I need to like who I am right now rather than making my self-esteem contingent upon changes that may or may not actually occur. Some theorize that you can't change until you make peace with where you are. I wonder if that's true.

Life After Recital

Well, it's over. I survived. It was far, far from perfect, but I suppose I would still put it in the category of "success." And anyway, it's over now.

It was really lovely to have my parents here. They help me out so much, and I love them. It was great to play with my daddy again--it's been quite some time since we've collaborated. It was a little strange to see them walking the halls of the 2nd floor of the HFAC, but it was amusing in a strange sort of way to see my parents in the same place as all my friends.

I am so grateful to have all of these wonderful people in my life. My parents are great--anybody who met them can no doubt attest to that. It was such a pleasant surprise to see my (white) cousins and their grandparents (and no, they're not also my grandparents--stop trying to be so cheeky!) there. And I was overwhelmed by love when I walked into my living room to see so many people that I care so deeply about. I must be the luckiest girl in the world to have so many great friends. Dadnmom were really impressed by everyone, and it made me realize that I probably take it all for granted.

Really, though, it gave me pause to reflect on these wonderful friendships I've developed while here at BYU. To say that I am going to miss everyone next year would be a gross understatement. What am I going to do? I'm leaving so many of my very favorite people in the world in making the 1200 mile trek back to Texas--will I be able to make it without them? Olivier Messiaen said that human love is a pale reflection of the only true love: Divine Love. I believed that last night, when I felt so much love for and from everyone. God loves me too.

I don't know why so many of the greatest people in the world tolerate my company, but I'm so glad they do. I hope I can someday be the kind of person that you all are.

Left Out

Sometimes, I feel like life is happening all around me, and my participation therein is limited to being excited for things that happen to the people who are near and dear to me. And don't get me wrong--that's fun, but sometimes I wonder when my own day will come.

Jeanettie is engaged. Charity is engaged. (More on this later.) Brennie is going on a mission in a week and a half. Becky gets BACK from her mission in a little more than a month. It's springtime, and people are falling in love. I don't even feel like I have any viable prospects these days. There are a handful (well, a very small handful) of guys that I'm interested in, but it doesn't seem that they reciprocate, so I don't know. Plus, I'm out of here in a month. I guess graduation falls into the category of "major life milestones," but it still seems kind of boring when juxtaposed with love and romance and springtime. Sigh.

So, Jeanette and Charity are two of my three favorite people that I have met in my time here at BYU. They are diametrically different people--and somehow, I am exactly like both of them. In every way that I am unlike one of them, I am like the other. It's eerie. In any case, these two favorite friends of mine are both getting married this summer. In August. On the 25th. 1350 miles away from one another. Sound like a dilemma to anyone else? I don't want to choose. Blah. It will all work out somehow, right? RIGHT?!

I got cat-called and leered at yesterday as I was walking home with my cello. Maybe some women find that degrading, but I actually am encouraged by it. Sure, it objectifies me. Sure, it reduces me to a bunch of body parts. Nonetheless, it makes me feel good about myself. You see, I always wonder if I'm physically attractive, if a man would ever want to be with me. That's the part that I worry about. I think that I'm a pretty good person on the INSIDE, and my beliefs are reinforced by those around me. Usually, though, the only people who tell me I'm pretty are other girls, or men over the age of 50. It's nice to feel desired by someone of the opposite sex who is a member of my same demographic.

Where's the Light?

I'm beginning to feel like the light at the end of the tunnel has burned out, and that it will be quite a while before someone gets around to replacing it. Usually, my life goes in cycles, and everything will be gross for a week (or even a few days within a week), but then it will subside and the tide will roll out again. It helps me to be optimistic, because I can tell myself, "Okay, all I have to do is make it through next week, and then I'll be home free."

So, all I have to do right now is make it through this next week (an eight-page paper that's already quite overdue, two concerts, a test for which I haven't even begun studying, probably two lessons, a masterclass performance, and several rehearsals for things that I really don't have time to do), and the week after that (Chamber orchestra concert, another masterclass performance, cello studio midterm, family coming into town, playing for one of those things I don't have time for, freaking SENIOR RECITAL) . . .

and honestly, I have no idea what happens after that. Right now my life is very segmented. I think of it in terms of this:

Before Recital.
After Recital.

If it's After Recital, that means that I don't think about it right now at all. So I am not. Right now, my life ends on March 24.