Back to basics.

This morning, I found out that one of my friends had lost his mom. No one wants to get that news, and it was a complete shock to all of us. 

I never knew Andrew's mom, but I know Andrew really well. He's one of the funniest people I know, and he always has a smile on his face. Andrew is truly brilliant, and he's always up to talk. He keeps me company during missionary farewells, and his spontaneous karaoke performances never cease to entertain us all. And when I heard that his mom had passed away, my heart broke. 

Losing someone you love is the hardest thing in the world; and nothing will ever make it okay. 

Today has been a simple reminder to me that I need to be more grateful for my family, and for the knowledge I have that I can be with them forever. I'm so grateful for this gospel and for the comfort it brings to me every day. 

I know that nothing we say can make the hurt go away when someone loses a loved one. But I hope that our knowledge of eternal families can bring peace. 

Give your friends and family an extra hug today, and tell your mom you love her. And pray for the Hough family. 

We love you, Andrew.

You wouldn't have guessed.

I'm deathly afraid of spiders [they send me into shaking, hyper-ventilating, full-on panic mode]. My favorite color is either purple or grey, and I hate the color pink; I think I own maybe two articles of pink clothing in my entire wardrobe. I'm an English major, who wants nothing more than to go to cosmetology school. I idolize Audrey Hepburn and Katy Perry. I really do love being a waitress. As dumb as that sounds, I get to interact and talk to tons of different people each day, every day is different, and I'm constantly moving. My hand-eye coordination level is zero, as is my sense of time. I have the worst attention span in the universe: at this very second, I have twelve internet tabs open, Instagram reloading on my phone, and Pandora playing in the background. I only focus on the things I really care about, or when something is very important...like my Relief Society lessons, or my English homework. I never stop reading. I'll read anything and everything you give me, and will probably annotate the crap out of it and pick out quotes that I love from every thing I read. I brush my teeth probably twelve million times a day, because I hate the way it feels after you eat. I want twins more than anything else in this whole world. I want to live in a big city, maybe for just a summer. Somewhere like New York City. Or Chicago. Or even Seattle or Austin. I want a real city experience...preferably doing something cliche like editing a fashion magazine, being a super hot-topic artist, or producing a hit reality TV show. Personally, I don't think there is anything worse than a Monday morning. I hate Mondays, even though I can never quite say why. I just do. There are few things I want more out of my job than a paycheck that is more than $50.00, or a shift that doesn't end with me covered in salad dressing, syrup, and powdered sugar, or require a full body massage to remove the tennis-ball sized knots from my shoulders. I'm really a natural blonde [don't let the purple hair fool you] and my hair is naturally curly [my blow-dryer and flat-iron are my best friends.] I love peppermint, but only if it's cold enough it makes your eyes water. Extra Polar Ice gum is my weakness in life. I'd take a massive steak over a salad any day of the week; and I probably eat more than most twelve-year-old boys. It's physically impossible for me to walk in high heels. My favorite places in the world are my bed, the sidelines of an ice rink, or anywhere with water and a temperature of more than 80 degrees. I have a real big problem with online shopping. I can't sleep unless I have at least three pillows and all my blankets--flannel sheets, a down comforter, bedspread, heated blanket, and the blanket I got from my family for graduation--on my bed. I sleep in a nest, basically. I'm awful at card games [except Rook. Which I sometimes randomly beat everybody at], and even worse at Liar's Dice. I have a rather impressive collection of maxi skirts and colored denim. I'd rather stay home and watch a movie than go to a party...but I hate being alone, probably more than just about anything. I want to meet Katy Perry someday. I wouldn't mind owning a Yorkshire Terrier. If you get me laughing, there's a good chance you'll see me cry too...I can't laugh without tears, happy ones of course. I don't like dessert unless it's chocolate, and vanilla is just a waste of calories to me. I don't like milk, yogurt, or bananas. My little sisters are my best friends. I am absolutely and completely in love with every single aspect of my busy, bizarre, and beautiful life. 

They're coming.

I know I've graduated, and high school is so last year, but I'm so proud to be able to say that I know these kids. So many of my closest friends, so many people I looked up to, and so many kids I am grateful I got to know throughout high school. The future of this church is in good hands, I have no doubt. Enjoy, and remember that the church is true, our Heavenly Father loves each and every one of us, and missionary work is incredible. 

I believe it. 

I know it's you.

Dear Anonymous,
You say I've only heard half the story and I don't know what really happened. To say that, while commenting as an anonymous author says that you are not proud of the way the situation was handled and can't own up to your own actions. If I really didn't know the whole story, you'd say it in person, or at least under your own name. The fact that you can't do that speaks volumes.
According to you, I'm clueless and should just forgive and forget. You are wrong. I know everything. I've read the letters and emails. I've heard both sides of the story from those outside people who got involved. And I've lived it. 
In the nine years this has been going on, you've missed exactly half of my life.
I've graduated Primary, received my Young Womanhood Recognition award, moved from YW to Relief Society, been co-president of a Seminary council, and spoke at Seminary graduation. I graduated from not only elementary school and Jr. High, but High school as well; with no acknowledgment from you. You never saw pictures of me at the Sterling Scholar awards or my high school dance groups. You didn't watch me play lacrosse, or see me cross the finish line for any of my three Ragnar relays. You don't know that I helped design an entire line of prom dresses, am majoring in English, and haven't seen my awards for newspaper design. You weren't there when I went on my first date and you won't be at my wedding.
I may not have participated in the events that led to where we are now, but I have lived the effects for the last decade. I'm not living at home anymore, but being on my own hasn't made the hurt go away. I have my own life, and I'm fending for myself. But I'm still part of my family, and we come as a group. Unless an effort is made for all eight of us, I want nothing to do with a relationship.

It all comes down to the fact that actions speak louder than words.

You can tell me you love me [you always have, always will, never stopped], but I don't believe it.

If you love someone, you go out of your way to make them happy. You don't request that they don't send birthday cards, Christmas letters, or graduation announcements anymore.
If you love someone, you want to spend time with them. You don't intentionally avoid and refuse any contact or meeting.
If you love someone, you speak highly and kindly of them. You don't make false accusations and damage reputations.
Love takes work, and you have to show it in the way you live. It's not a word that can be thrown around to try and prove a point, but rather something that you have to prove by the things you do.
Love is the way my parents check in on me and the way my sisters FaceTime me before bed. Love is the way my best friend makes me laugh even through a letter when I haven't seen him in months and the way my roommates wait up for me to get off work. Love is the way my grandpa never misses a chance to let me know how proud he is of me and the way my home teachers give us blessings before finals week.
Love is more than a bag of cookies and a doily, or a forced conversation and a sealed envelope.

You say you love me and my family, but you don't show it.
I'm sorry I'm not trying to fix this, but I have too many other relationships with people who do love me to focus on, and not a second to spare for those who don't.

They said it best.

I have a thing for quotes, and just words in general. My "Quotes and Such" board on Pinterest has 1,691 pins, and that number grows every single day. I just love the way words have so much potential and so much effect on how we think...and I love the design and typography of some of these. 

We live in a crazy world. But holding on to hope with all that we have is not crazy. And there is good in every day. John Green also happens to be one of my favorite authors. Convenience. 

And usually when you need it most, or are least expecting it. That's the way life works. 

Luck doesn't find you if you don't work for it. But once you do...man The blessings sure do come. 

If everything was easy, life would be no fun. And anything that comes easy isn't worth it. 

It comes back to the working hard and being lucky thing. 

Excuse the "hell" word, but seriously. There's far too many "Keep Calm and ______" posters out there. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'd rather do something exciting. Besides, I'm not a calm person. 

I refuse. 

Every single one of you. 

 Like in Michigan. Or Paris. Or Hong Kong. And I miss them, too much. 

Letters from my best friend, double Bachelor episodes, Taco Tuesday, and no school. I love days where everything is good. 

I think sometimes we begin to doubt the answers to our prayers. Are we really in the right school? Doing the right things? If at one point it was right, and you haven't had any other answer come, carry on.

  But really. 

Every single second, of every single day. 

It's the truth. You may think things have to be perfect...but sometimes life is wonderful, even with none of your best friends around, stressful classes, a busy work schedule, and a ton of stuff going on. My life isn't perfect, or anywhere close to it. But it is wonderful, extraordinary, and beautiful. 

 That's all for today, folks. Just don't forget the power of words. [Or letters. Letters are always good. Especially ones from your best friends. Just saying.

Too much too soon.

You can only see so many sunsets before it becomes just something that happens at six o'clock every night. 

You can only hear your favorite song so many times before it becomes just a sequence of notes. 

Your favorite meal can only be eaten so many times before it becomes just another serving of food. 

You only have to do something 23 times (give or take a few) before it becomes habit. 

But I don't think I'll ever get used to saying goodbye. I don't think it ever gets easier, I'm certainly never going to look forward to it, and I'm not seeing any good in goodbye. 

I said goodbye to Hailee tonight, for a year and a half. 

At the same time, I decided that my heart is officially being split into pieces and headed to various places. 

A very large part of it leaves for Detroit at 7:30 tomorrow morning. 

Part of it lives in Alabama. 

Another part of it enters the Provo MTC this Wednesday, and will head to Paris, France in roughly 8 weeks. [That piece will be joined by another in April. Two of my best friends serving in the same mission. There is no justice in the world.]

A piece of it will head to Hong Kong April 3rd. 

Another part will find out where it's headed the second week in March. 

I guess you could say that for the next 18-24 months, I'm going to be a rather heartless individual. OR you could say that for the next two years, I'm going to learn to love like I never have before. My mailbox is going to become ridiculously international, and there's a good chance my hand may actually fall off from all the letters I'm going to be writing. 

I'm so sick of saying goodbye I can hardly handle it, but I'm so proud of my best friends I can hardly contain it. 

Good luck out there, Hailee. I'm going to miss you like crazy, but you're going to be the best missionary Paris has ever seen. See ya in 18. :)

Luck of the draw.

To say that yesterday was absolutely wonderful would be a serious understatement. 

My English professor gave some more ego-boosting compliments to my essay [and asked for ideas on how to make students interested in my favorite book, The Count of Monte Cristo.]

My next English professor told me that she'd finished editing my essay and she thought I was a "captivating writer and [she] enjoyed every word of [my essay]."

After I shared this Valentine's picture from my mom [caption: "Ashley, I mustache you to be my Valentine] with my institute teacher, he told me my sister was probably the cutest little girl he'd seen in a long time. [I agreed of course.]

Lauren, Kenzie, Emi, Adrienne and I went on a "date" to the Hub for bagels and cream cheese. 

I actually stayed awake in physics!

Dylan sent me a picture of some flowers and a sweet Valentine's day message. [And I talked to him for the first time in weeks. In case you were wondering, it sucks having one best friend gone for two years and the other in Alabama. Don't try this at home.]

I got a surprise letter from Bronson, and Jon and I were able to mail the cookies in time for him to get them before he flies to Detroit Monday morning. 

I got to wear a pink game day shirt to work, and everyone was in a wonderful mood. 

The cooks surprised me and Heidi with flowers, chocolates, cards, and teddy bears. [Two random girls we'd never seen in our lives walked in with these huge bags and bouquets and boxes and asked for us. The looks on the faces of the people in the restaurant were priceless.]

Jon, Tenille, Kaydee, Dylan, Mike, and Stephen came in to work and paid me all sorts of compliments and tips. 

Paige told me that she'd read this happy blog and thought that I was just great and she wanted to hang out with me and my roommates more because our lives sounded so fun. [They are. Promise.]

I came home to a bouquet of roses and a sweet note from Bronson. [Side story: In my letter today, there was a letter for Jon. All I saw of it was the envelope it was sealed tight in, that said "This is for Jon. Don't you DARE read it." I assumed it was some secret bro code, and I wasn't going to read it anyway. I don't think any of you understand how lucky I am to have boys like Bronson and Jon and Dylan in my life to keep me sane and remind me, constantly, that I am loved.]

The moral of the story is, I love Valentine's Day. And yesterday definitely gave me another million and a half reasons to love it. 

I love love.

It's Valentine's Day! Probably one of my favorite holidays in the whole world...I mean what girl doesn't love flowers and chocolate and the words "I love you"? No one sane, that's for sure. 

Valentine's Day isn't just about being in love, it's about love in general. 

My favorite kinds of love?
The way my mom makes my favorite food when I get home, or finishes my laundry for me. How she buys a carton of orange juice for me to take back up to school because she knows how much I love it. How she doesn't argue when I drive home from Logan just to pick up my snowboard and a few other things, and just tells me to make sure I drive safe. 

The way it feels to get a sincere compliment from complete stranger.

The way my dad sends me emails out of the blue that always say exactly what I need to hear. How he texts me before he goes to bed just to make sure I had a good day. How he spends hours making sure my car works okay, or doesn't laugh when Ryan and I head to In-n-Out at midnight....again. 

The way it feels when you listen to your favorite song, watch your favorite movie, or read your favorite book. 

The way Hailee drives from Bountiful to spend the night with Emi and I and stays up way too late talking to me, and making sure I'm alright. The way she listens to all my irrational fears, and then offers a rational alternative and sound advice. The way she gives me music suggestions not because she knows I love music, but because she knows how much I love the lyrics. 

The way it feels to find a scripture that answers the question you've had in your head all day. 

The way Bronson snowboards with me all day, and even though he could be with Jackson and Jared and Jon and Paige, he stays with me and doesn't laugh (too hard) when I spend most of the time on my face. How every May 5th for three years, I've had a bouquet of flowers delivered from him, because he knows it's a rough day and how much I love flowers. How he comes to ColdStone with me and Jon even though he hates ice cream. 

The way it feels to fill a whole page in your journal with your favorite memories. 

The way my little sisters yell my name when I come home, and how Mary begs to have a sleepover with me every single night. How they fight over who gets to run errands with me, and who gets to go through the bank drive thru and get suckers. 

The way it feels to get a hug from someone you've been missing. 

The way Jon looks out for me like a big brother. How he fixes my car (far too often), and takes me out for ice cream when I need a break. How he and Bryan take me to lunch with them. How he's letting me and Lauren dye his hair to cease our boredom. How he offers to drive me home and makes sure I get home safe wherever I go. 

The way it feels to get a really big tip on a long night at work. 

The way Emi can make me laugh at three in the morning with another off-the-wall comment. How she gets my love for unattainable movie stars and band members. How she's always up to shop with me or make me egg-drop soup. How she finishes my sentences and can choreograph a dance to Stronger spur of the moment. 

The way it feels to wrap up in your favorite blanket and watch TLC. 

The way my roommates and I have dance parties at 1 in the morning to Stronger and 22, and how much we rely on each other for everything. How they have a Dr. Pepper waiting for me at the end of a long day. How they listen to my stories and don't judge me when I start crying for no apparent reason. 

The way it feels to drive around in the middle of the night with your best friend. 

Love, in all forms, is wonderful. I love my friends. My family. The gospel. My life.

"Be in love with your life. Every minute of it." -Jack Kerouac

I am. 

Happy Valentine's Day from Snow 102 [and Dallin of course]! Have a lovely day! 

You don't understand.

Sometimes, you meet someone, and you just click.

You like the same music, have the same fears, and do the same things. 

You'd go to the ends of the earth to help them, and you know they'd do the same for you. 

Heart to hearts until 4 am just don't seem to be long enough to cover everything, and the inside jokes would take years to compile. 

Meet Hailee [Jane] Henson. 

Morgan started working at a dry cleaning place, and would not stop talking about how I was just like this girl that she worked with. We both loved Jimmy Eat World, had a passionate hatred for cancer, and were slightly obsessed with the word "hope." 

Fast forward eight months, and I finally got to meet her in person, and we clicked.

She became my confidante, my volunteer buddy, and my listening ear. We saw each other once every couple of months, and mainly just stalked each other's FB profiles and blogs. 

Right before senior year started, Emi and I started hanging out with her more and more...until we hardly went a day without doing something. 

Some reality show characters once identified their best friends with the phrase "my person." And that's exactly what Hailee is. 

She's the one I call at two am when I have a migraine and can't sleep, or something dramatic happens that only she will understand, or when I found a great YouTube video. She understands how much I despise cancer, because she empathizes with the hurt it causes on those affected. She gets my weird obsession with fonts, and is the only one who doesn't think it's bizarre that both of us can identify a majority of the fonts used not only by name, but by size and tell you what kerning was used. She shares my love of Katy Perry, Jimmy Eat World, Fall Out Boy, and Jason Lancaster. She's the only person I know who frequently drives an hour and a half out of her way just to check on her two best friends, and drive home the same night--because she knew we just needed to talk. She's the first person I ask for advice from (second only to my parents) and will listen to me complain for hours...and then talk me out of my rants before I go crazy. 

She's my older sister-she puts me in my place when I mess up.

She's my confidante-she knows everything about me, and I'd trust her with anything. 

She's one of my best friends-she's one of very few people who can take me from laughing to crying and back again in minutes. 

She's my person-she's all of those things, and then some. 

This girl leaves for the MTC on the 20th, and the people of France have no idea what's coming their way. She's got a testimony and a heart that are going to change so many lives, and a love of this gospel that will inspire hope in so many. Even though I'm tired of saying goodbye and I know that the next 18-24 months are going to be some of the longest of my life...I'm okay with it. I'm so proud of them, and today, so proud of Hai.
Bonne chance, Souer Henson. L'amour le plus. 

Stay tuned.

We really, really, really like celebrating holidays in 102. 

Stay tuned for a photoshoot dedicated to solely to Valentine's/Single's Awareness day that involved far too much eyeliner, neon lipstick, and approximately twelve million shades of pink. 

Goodnight, kiddos!

Keep looking up.

I GOT A LETTER. 

[And yes, that is just how I announced it to the entire Lundstrom Student Center Friday morning.] It's funny how much better someone can make you feel even when you haven't talked to them in a week and a half. 

Then, I had a conference with one of my English professors to have my first college essay critiqued and reviewed. We had to do a five page analysis of a work of poetry, and I was not exactly excited about the assignment. BUT. I got in there, and he handed me my essay and said, "My only suggestion? Work on your title. It sucks. You're an excellent writer." 

Day made. 

Laundry is free in the LSC all week, and we took advantage of that...at one a.m. 

And obviously, the hour got to our heads. But good news, we have clean dish rags now. 

Even though Friday was wonderful, Saturday was...less than great. I had to work at five, after spending three hours on the phone with some of the incoming freshmen. I was planning on being home by midnight at the very latest...and then we remembered that the Mardi Gras dance on campus wouldn't be over until 1:00. I left work at 4 a.m. I love my job, but not that much.

Now it's time for Sunday dinner, the Grammy's, and a Joseph Smith fireside in the Spectrum. I'm a happy girl. 

A touchy subject.

[DISCLAIMER: This post may be slightly pointless and not really help anybody out there--not that any of mine do, really--but I needed to talk, and that's what this blog is for. Read at your own risk, I guess?]

From the time we're little, we're taught to put ourselves in a good environment, with people that uplift and support us, and make us better people. I have been very very blessed in this respect, and I am very aware of how lucky I am. 

I have parents that support me in everything I do, whether it's another crazy hair-dye job, a confusing class schedule, or a spur of the moment trip home just to grab a snowboard. They never question me, and always make sure I'm aware that I can make decisions by myself and that they'll support me in everything I do. 

I have five younger siblings who look up to me, and make me a better person everyday. Brittany pushes me to do my best, Ryan looks to me for music suggestions, Emily asks for book recommendations, and Aubrey and Mary would follow me anywhere I ask them to go (as long as they got  Zupa's or Dum-Dums out of the deal.) 

My five roommates listen to every complaint I have about anything, and always have advice for me. They wait up for me from work, even on my crazy weekend shifts, and never fail to make me smile on a hard day. 

I have the three best boy-friends a girl could ever ask for. They change my tires, buy me ice cream, and stop by for random visits to make sure I'm doing okay. 

Add these to the many, many, many other people in my life that keep me sane, make me smile, and never cease to make me try harder, and you can guarantee that I'm a very lucky girl. 

That said, I have also been....blessed...with some people in my life that serve mainly as trials. Long story short, it's been nearly ten years since I had any kind of face-to-face communication with one set of my grandparents, and the aunts, uncles, and cousins involved on that side. Other than random, completely coincidental (or accidental, you could say) interactions, there has been nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. 

It's not fun to grow up without grandparents. [Don't get me wrong, my other grandparents are angels. Literally, the best people alive.] Picture this: you're nine years old, and suddenly, there's no contact with one set of grandparents. Then, you're fifteen, and you're grandma passes away. It physically hurt every day to know that I didn't have a full set of grandparents out there, and that the one grandma you did have left was gone. Then, try explaining that to a three-year-old and a five-year-old. It doesn't work. 

Thankfully, my grandpa found Jo, and the position of grandma has been filled--and I can't express how grateful I am for that. 

But, it still hurts. To know that less than five miles away from my apartment, I have a set of grandparents that haven't had contact with my family in almost a decade. This year, they will have missed more birthday's than they've made. They missed my first date, my first dance, and my first day of high school. They missed me crossing the finish line for my third Ragnar, walking across the stage for my high school graduation, and didn't hear me speak at Seminary graduation. They'll miss my wedding. My kids. And so many other milestones that I can't even begin to count. 

For a long time, I was really bitter about the situation, to the point that I was angry and mad at them for everything they missed. But now, through lots of talking it out, and tons of time spent on my knees asking for any way to be even mildly OK with the situation, I've come to terms with it. It still hurts, but I've moved on. 

So imagine my surprise today, when taking a table's order, I look up and see my aunt. The one whom I haven't spoken to since I was ten years old. After informing my manager that I needed to call my parents, PRONTO, I took their advice and said hello. 

"I don't know if you recognize me..."
"I do. You're Ashley." 

"Well, uhhh, it's been a long time. It's nice to see you!" 

"Yeah, good to see you." 

And that was that. Even as I walked away, I knew that nothing was going to change because I'd said hello. But for the first time in years, I was content that I'd done what I needed to, and there was nothing else I could have done. Because family isn't just the people who you share a gene pool with, or the people who have the same blood as you do. 

They're the people you call at 3 a.m. because you can't sleep. The ones that know you well enough to know you're not OK even though you say you are. The ones that cook your favorite meals when you come home, or have a carton of orange juice for you to take back up to school with you. The ones who spend hours fixing your car...and aren't too mad when it still doesn't work. The ones who can make you laugh when you don't even want to smile. The ones who would do anything for you, and you'd do exactly the same. 

And in those terms? My family is huge. And I'm so lucky. 

Someday's on it's way.

I love February. Mainly because it's the month of love...and I love love, every kind of it. The way I love my best friends, the boys in my life, my family, my sisters, my neighbors, the Gospel, A-Team, Katy Perry, and my job. It's mind-blowing how complex the heart is, and how incredibly simple it is at the same time.  Needless to say, I love cheesy valentines, flowers, and lots of chocolate.

It's no secret that I'm a rather loud individual. I'm not very good at keeping things to myself, and subtlety has never been my strong point. I'm also a bit of a girly girl...I love glitter, shopping, and can talk just about anybody's ear off. So at work, the cooks have taken to calling me "Barbie" because of my overly dramatic and apparently entertaining manner of doing everything. I knew they called me that, but was rather surprised when a table said, "Excuse me miss, we have a question. Is our ticket wrong? Or is it your nametag?" I looked down at their ticket, and sure enough, my name was now Barbie. My manager, Matt, laughed for probably ten straight minutes...and then left it there all weekend. I got some seriously strange looks from my customers, but the story made everybody laugh--and everybody agreed once they saw how animated our conversations were and how it's nearly impossible for me to talk without using my hands. 

Speaking of my personality...my parents and the Fife's have developed this odd hang-up on the "Color-Code" personality test. So during our Super Bowl party this Sunday, we all took the test. My poor mom...she's stuck with a red husband, and three red children. We're all power hungry and determined individuals....and yet she's the only person who can out-talk me and gets a word in edgewise when I'm around. 

Speaking of the Super Bowl, we throw a better party than you do...guaranteed. Piles of ribs, plates of fruit, vegetables, dip, chips, guacamole, and bowls of Muddy Buddies make for some very happy neighbors. 

 Now, after writing a five page paper in a single night, working a five hour shift, and with a 9 am class staring me in the face, it's time for bed.

 Goal of the week: Be in bed before midnight at least once.

P.S. MY WINDOW IS FIXED, FOLKS. Driving home was freezing to say the least, but then my dad is a superhero and got the window up. (It won't go down...no more drive thrus for me I guess!) Now, I have a car I'm not going to freeze to death in, and another reason why my dad is better than yours. 

Night, kiddos.