Welcome to Geneva, Introvert

I've gotten in all sorts of trouble for being so quiet around here. Oops.

Geneva. So many things to love about Geneva. Well, of course, it's beautiful here. Much of the city is modern, but some of it is the Europe of your dreams. Old buildings, green pastures, red shutters, cows with bells, chocolate (the chocolate!), cheese (the cheese!), mountains and so much more. I live in a sleepy little suburb of Geneva that could not be more beautiful. Everyday I pass the same two old women with at least 4 or 5 dogs between them. I love that saying "bonjour!" to them each morning has become a part of each of our routines.

The WHO. Getting to be surrounded by people who do meaningful work, going to lectures on things that interest me, getting to learn about so much and be a small part of such a big thing... well, it's pretty great.

I've been reading Susan Cain's book, Quiet, about introverts. As you may have noticed, introvertism is somewhat of a cause I've taken up. But really everyone should read the book. Because if you aren't an introvert, you know one. So much of what she talks about in the book deeply resonated with me.  It's pushed me to examine a lot of my personality traits, approach situations differently, and love some of those things about myself that kind of make me a hermit sometimes.

So with that frame of mind, I've been thinking a lot about my time here. About diving into the thick of things, about exploring, about preparation and caution, about making friends and connections, about reading at lunch or sitting by someone new, about being true to yourself, about finding balance. I wish I could articulate my thoughts here the way I want to, but for reason I just can't quite yet. Maybe someday.

love from Switzerland,
M

real

last night I stepped out for a run under the Georgian sky (as in the state not the country).

I thought about how last week I graduated and then stepped on a plane and that I'll take five more before my feet return to Utah. I thought about how in a matter of months I will live in a new place, go to a new school, and be on a new path. I thought about how next summer I could be running under the Georgian sky (as in the country not the state). Does any of this feel real? Not really.

Graduated. What does that word even mean? Nothing to me yet other than some abstract idea. But I realized that so many big events in life change us in so many ways, and yet we remain the same. I graduated from college, but do I feel any different? not really.

Oh yeah, and did I mention that those five other planes will take me here, here, here, and here?

Not to rub it in or anything.

to the left, to the left

I shouldn't love it as much as I do, but I do. And when I hear that someone else is, I feel an instant kinship to them. I love when people I've known forever finally notice, as if it was some special trick I've kept hidden from them. It's silly I know, but I love love love being left-handed.

Sure there are disadvantages like the perpetual stain of pencil or ink on your hand or the need to seek out certain "left-handed" desks in a classroom. Oh and then there are things like learning how to crochet–a little tricky when the person teaching you is doing everything with the opposite hand. I bet you didn't know that there are quite a few objects like bunch bowl ladles or scissors that are right-handed. I also blame my lack of coordination on being a lefty. I kick and throw with my right, but with little skill. What was I supposed to do when all the other kids were doing it with that hand? I'd like to think that if I'd learned with my left, I'd be a master (maybe).

But guess what? Being a lefty is the best.  You get special treatment. "Oh sorry, you can't sit there. I'm left-handed; I need to sit on the end." You get special items like left-handed sewing scissors. You have the advantage in sports (not that I would know about that).  Left-handed people are definitely smarter (remember this is my blog). Out of the last 14 presidents, half of them have been left-handed. Significant? I think yes.

And apparently, I would be really great at primitive fighting.


signed,
your little lefty
M

The solution to every problem

But seriously.
I haven't found a problem that dancing to Tainted Love by Soft Cell couldn't solve. Best. Song. Ever.
It's a life philosophy I've been living for quite some years now and it's served me well. 

Happy finals. Mine will be so much better now that I've danced it out.

M

very jokey*

I feel like many of my posts lately have been the serious end of things. While I am naturally inclined to contemplation, I think I would explode if my life was consisted solely of such thought. Since I want mjots to be a place where I am real and true to myself and to you, I feel like I ought to tell you what isn't so serious in my life at the moment:

• I've rediscovered the jackal face. Most likely only one or two out of the five people reading this will know what I'm talking about, but trust me you're missing out. I was walking home the other day and something made me think of it. I contorted my face into the jackal and preceded to burst out laughing. I did it over and over several times, laughing to myself all the way home. Oh how I've missed you jackal.
• In honor of Harry Potter seven part two, I adorned my key chain with my awesome and very large snitch. I love seeing people's eyes get wide as they see it on my key chain. "Is that a snitch!?" Problem is, it isn't always the most appropriate item to have on a key chain. Like when I'm walking into the Temple for example. That's when I leave the snitch in the car. Unfortunately there are places (though few)  where Harry Potter is not appropriate. 
• I have an unhealthy and slightly ridiculous obsession to fake cheese and Taco Bell. I know, I KNOW. It's absolutely disgusting, but alas, it is the truth. The former addiction I contribute to growing up with dearest sister A, who shares the same love of unnaturally smooth cheese. You know those little snackpacks that have the fake cheese, crackers and the little red spreader in them? Totally ate one of those on campus a few days ago. Felt like I was five. The latter I attribute to too much eating in the Cougareat freshman year and getting sick of eating everywhere else. I rarely buy food on campus, but when I do it is always Taco Bell. Always. The other day I neglected to bring dinner and was beyond starving. I defaulted to Taco Bell, enjoying my fake cheese. Two hours later I attempted to go running. As soon as I hit the pavement the nausea set in. Taco Bell and running are not friends. Don't think I'll be going there for a while.
• A couple of nights ago I was trying to open a packet of raisinettes that were sealed in plastic. I grabbed the nearest semi-sharp object, a butter knife, which I then proceeded to slice not only through the plastic, but also through my finger. Smart, M, smart.
• Speaking of Harry Potter, my french classroom is the Shrieking Shack. We'll be in the middle of class and all of the sudden there will be this "whoooooo" ghosty sound coming out from what I assume is the vent. When you open the door to walk in, it creeks so SO loudly. Good thing I haven't shown up late yet ...
• I've reverted back to childhood in terms of entertainment tastes. I've been reading 500 books at once lately (which I do not recommend, nor do I usually do, but I must be have been feeling extra indecisive this summer I guess) all of which I have stopped reading upon starting school except for one: Calico Captive. My world was forever enriched by dearest sister E, who introduced me to the book many years ago because she loved it when she was young. Will Miriam ever find her way back to the settlement? Will she be reunited with her sister Susanna who is being enslaved at an Indian camp? Will she choose the gruff Frenchman or the polite and churchy Phineas? I must know! If you love French-Canadians, love triangles, hunky French fur traders, Indians, and sewing, this is the book for you. I find myself coming home after a long day and wanting to curl up in my bed and read my fluff. Also, I've been watching a lot of the Cosby Show lately (thanks to my old roommate Jenni), which brings back all sorts of great memories.
• And finally, I recently watched an amazing Bollywood film, Dil Bole Hadippa with a dear friend which I now have been quoting from for days. I don't know if I have ever laughed so hard at or enjoyed a movie so much as I did this one. *This is the source of the amazing title of this post. The leading man says to his counterpart, "I am falling in love with you buffalo-girl because you make my life very jokey." One day I hope to make a man's life very jokey too.

loves,

M

being in the world

Finally. This post has written itself in many forms in my head hundreds of times over the past month but I can never seem to pin down my words until now. More of the pieces needed to come together and I've taken up more truth from others who have much more wisdom than I.

As of late I have begun to be intimately acquainted with one Mr C. S. Lewis. Over the next 3 1/2 months my life will be essentially and almost entirely consumed with his words. My baptism into his wisdom has been The Screwtape Letters. Screwtape explains to young, naive Wormwood, that one of the worst things that can happen is for humans to learn to live in the present for that is where the Enemy (God) would have us live. The demons would have us live perpetually looking toward the future. In order to do so, they try to blind us to the divine rhythm of regular life and "twist it into a demand for absolute novelty" (p136, Letter 25).

It is easy to yearn for the new, to push on to the next thing, to demand excitement and indeed novelty. We can waste our lives in it. So often, especially during my intense college years, I am guilty of bowing my head and plowing through to survival, only to take one breath and realize the semester is gone.

Life is like an old-time rail journey--delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.

This quote, which is often mistakenly attributed to President Hinckley (although he did quote someone else who said it, source here) has always been slightly unsettling to me. What it says of our expectation of life (to be exciting at every turn) adn the work that it requires to thankful is absolutely true. But what I learn each day on this earth is that the these delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts (the mundane or disappointing moments in life) are filled with infinite beauty. No they are not the beautiful vistas or the bursts of speed, and those moments of awe on a grand scale are precious an important. But the beauty in the small moments is what defines the everyday of your life. And the everyday of your life is what you are made of.

Look at the sky. The clouds have seemed more picturesque and the expansive blue more telling and true. Practice opening your eyes wider to take more of it in. Simplify your life and surround yourself with only that which is necessary or that which brings you happiness (like black cropped pants and owl piggy banks). Abandon homework to bake brownies. Eat cheesecake on the floor in the middle of the night. Read your textbook outside in a sundress. When you walk out of the temple, notices the flowers as you slowly re-enter the world. Write down delightful phases uttered by wacky professors. Count your steps. Dance in your room to that song that makes you smile as you put away your laundry. Look the person you are listening to in the eye and see what God sees as they speak. Notice their funny quirks and notice your own. Look up from your lunch just to people watch. Devour the words that you read. Make connections between each little piece of your life and laugh at how interconnected all the superfluous stuff really is. Write a note to that friend, but write it an unexpected way just to see them smile. Label your food in fridge with things like "M is for magical" or put a pirate patch on the man on the label of your pasta sauce. Live with your heart open. But most of all tell God that you love this everyday. Tell Him you love walking up that steep hill and making a fool of yourself in French class. Take notice of each moment and be thankful. There is joy to be found here. Wonder at your everyday world and it will whisper it's secrets to you.


trying, oh trying to wonder.

M

lemon drop

"'Would you care for a lemon drop?' 'A what?' 'A lemon drop. They're a muggle sweet I'm rather fond of.'"

Why yes, Dumbledore, I would love a lemon drop.

mmmm.

M

You Know You're a Science Major When... (part iv)

While my list is not limited to just micro majors this time, it still belongs with my other installments:

• you have to have your hair back and wear closed-toe shoes and long pants EVERYDAY to school in the summer because of lab classes (as a result my wearable wardrobe has dwindled. I never realized how much I didn't wear those things until that's all I could wear)
• you spend $600 on books for a semester and think that is the best deal ever
• you have this natural bond with anyone you meet who is also a science major. They have been through what you've been through: Ochem, chem lab, physics, cell bio, genetics, etc. They understand your frazzled look, the glaze over your eyes, the chemicals still left on your hands, the 5 books in your arms, the NMR sheets sticking out of your binder. You have felt each other's pain (and occasional triumph). They are just as crazy as you are
• you joke about getting cancer from the chemicals in lab and then have a lively and informed discussion about all the things that are known carcinogens that are in the lab like it's no big deal
• People ask you what your major is and when you respond they exclaim, "ugh! that sounds terrible" "yes, yes, that's why I chose it you see, because it is terrible"

And a few that only a micro major would really understand:

• you see little seed pods that have fallen off of a tree and think to yourself, "those look just like the larvae that I spend two months injecting with the plague last semester"
• you go to the doctor and when you tell them that your cough was non-productive and that you have general malaise they say "okay, okay, what's your major?"

still loving little life and science (most days)

M

long day

I just purchased (and am hastily consuming) more junk food than I ever have in my college career.

Potato chips?check
Candy bar? check
Soda? check
cinnamon bagel? check

this, my dears, is the mark of just how long of a day its been.

my blood sugar just went up exponentially.

gotta love college.

M

I believe

that bananas become ripe solely so I can make banana muffins with them.

yum.

break in

 

I found this picture today on my camera dated from earlier in the school year. Apparently it was a busy time, or maybe someone was looking for something...

love it

I love that I find myself writing thank you notes on the day the world is supposed to end.

Guess I'm just trying to tie up any loose ends.

M

home country

As I’ve grown up in the world, home has become less of a place and more of the people that I love and am surrounded by. While I grew up in the same house all my life, since moving away for college, it doesn’t feel like my real home anymore. In it's place, I’ve created many homes over the years in various places, falling in love with different landscapes, picturesque views, and most of all people that I love more than anything in this world.

Several days ago I was flying, soaring above the world, observing human life as if from a dream. I couldn’t help but spend hours looking out the window, amazed at this alternate world of brilliant blue and white. Just as we began our descent into Salt Lake, we turned north, the clouds parted, and we flew over Utah Lake. What met my eyes were lush rolling green hills guarded by snow-tipped blue mountains--both a result of our wet and late spring. My lips parted in amazement, my hand pressed up against the window--willing the plane to push west so I could get a better view, my heart filled with more light than it has in months, and my mind felt at ease. This is my home country.

As many places as I will travel, as many people I will come to love and hold dear, as many replacement homes I will create like nests around my heart, this little place will always be where my feet feel most comfortable taking step after step, where my eyes love to rest. As much as I admire the limestone of Jerusalem or the trees of the East,  I will always call the mountains and valleys of dear Utah my home country.

F-I-N-A-L-S

I love finals week. Okay, not so much, but I'm trying to stay positive.

But I really do love finals week because it gives me a "get out of jail free" card for any sort of atrocious thing I do to my body.

Get two hours of sleep one night? eh, it's finals.
Have brownies and Dr. Pepper for breakfast? eh, it's finals.
Wear random things from your closest that make you look like a homeless person? eh, it's finals.
Don't shower for a few days? eh, it's...

The list goes on. And somehow everyone accepts "It's finals" as a valid excuse for any sort of odd behavior. I feel like I should milk finals week (and the week leading up to finals week) for all it's worth. I'm going to go eat some chocolate :)

fini

Why is it during finals my mind always races? Thoughts fly by so fast I can't even pick one out from the rest.

No they aren't thoughts of Haydn's Surprise Symphony or how alpha-ketoglutarate is converted into glutamate or projectile motion or even the top 10 chronic diseases in the developing world or how p53 prevents unregulated cell growth.

They are to do lists, ideas, goals, lyrics, quotes from books or movies, dreams--basically everything but what I should have learned these last three months.

And they won't leave me alone.

I wrote down as much as I could sift through the other day in an attempt to draw the thoughts from my mind and let it settle into studying. I must admit it helped a little, but they are still there waiting for me to finish so I can give them the attention they believe they deserve.

Until Friday.

M

ps finals week always brings out the best in me: my roommate walked in to the apartment to find me on the floor in my room, books strewn about, "typing" on my computer with red mittens on. "What?! my hands were cold!"

subliminal

I was doing some research for a paper I am writing on Mozart's The Magic Flute. Into the search box I typed "Mozart magic glue" 


Tired much?

21 minutes and 33 seconds...

And I'm officially on Thanksgiving break. Bless you teachers for cancelling class tomorrow.
Since I don't have to work this break, I've been thinking a lot about how I want to spend my time.

This thanksgiving break I'm going to:

•  read. Still trying to get through this (I haven't given up yet!) and this and I have issues of this that have been piling up
• run. Mr. jogging and I have missed each other so
• spend time with crazy little people I love so much that I would give my left AND right kidney for them
• finally see this
• go hiking. I realize that it is freezing outside, but I really really want to hike. Just wondering who I can drag along with me...
• clean out my closet
• think. About what I want, what I need, who I am, where I'm going, how I'm doing, about those I love
• breathe in and out

It's going to be a good break here in sleepy little Provo,

M

looking good

What I love about this semester so far:

• My Cell Biology teacher looks like Alton Brown from Good Eats
• Every time I drive to my apartment I drive to the Elms first and then I have to back track
• I've done all my reading for every class 
• I've come to be known as the invisible roommate because I'm never home. Class and work from 9:00 to 7:00 baby!
• Once again I have been to the bookstore at least 4 times and I didn't even buy most of the books from there
• I've been to the hospital more in the last two weeks getting ready to volunteer than I have in my entire life
• It takes me 5 minutes to get to campus
• My sacrament meeting is in the cougarette practice room (it's actually a little creepy. There are mirrors in the back so if you stand up at the podium, you can see yourself talking)
• I was in the "first day of class slideshow" some guy followed me around at work for 15 minutes taking pictures of me

measure for measure

Casually picked up a MCAT prep book off the shelf today. The size of a phonebook. Even had the same type of pages.

Totally freaked out.

I want to be a doctor. But do I want to be a doctor a phonebook's worth?

Maybe I'll be an interpretive dancer instead. No massive books involved.

M

favorite

One of my favorite rituals these days is going to BBC News and viewing this. They have a new one up almost everyday. I think all of the pictures are so beautiful and telling. And most of it makes me want to travel.


SO. BAD.


M