my hometown

Hey guess what?
I'm from Provo.

I know that when I say that around the BYU crowd I am automatically judged. But guess what again? I actually like living here and I think you should too. Sure, I absolutely agree that Provo has its downsides, but it has way more upsides than most people give it credit for.

First of all, the Provo that you hate is the BYU bubble Provo. But there is more to Provo than the bubble. Real people actually live here and they are quirky and charming and dare I say diverse (well, relatively speaking of course). Mostly I think people hate on Provo because they think they are supposed to hate on Provo. But guess what again again? You don't have to.

Being from Provo, I've done a lot of great things here, but I decided that this summer (as in summers past) I'm really going to live it up. I've already begun my summer adventures and I plan to continue making the most of this little college town and the surrounding area.

A couple of weeks ago I hiked Squaw Peak with some friends. As the view met my eyes, I couldn't help but feel so lucky that I live in this place and that these experiences are so easily accessible to me.

Want suggestions of great things to do in the area? Just let me know. If you want to join in on the fun, just let me know too.
(I sound like a PSA, but whatever. I don't care)

love your little Provo girl,
M

desert

wholly and deeply dry.

That's how I feel about my creativeness and ability to give lately. I find it ironic considering I just got back from places where the fruits of creativity surrounded me at every turn. I had moment after moment in front of monumental works of art that I've waited my whole life to see. Pieces of art that literally changed the world were right there to touch me.

And they did. Their beauty and power permeated my tough skin and sank into my heart, to be written on its fleshy tables. But the conversation stopped there. Usually I have something to say, to give in return. Usually I'm inspired and thoughts and feelings flow from me instead of just into me.

But here I am, days after my trip and each time I sit down to write or think or give, I come up dry. The answer as to why has come to me in bits and pieces and here it is: I have nothing to give because all I have has been put back into myself.

Over the past six months I've lived a particularly self-centered existence. I had huge decisions to make and in an effort to keep my sanity and pass my classes while making them, I gave myself all that I had. And by doing so, the amount I was able to give slowly diminished until here I am, with a dry soul (and ironically an extremely dry throat). This scripture never rang so true.

As I settle into this summer, which may prove to be my last spent in sleepy little Provo, I find myself beginning to be ready to give. I have the chance to take care of myself and the ones that I love and most importantly: to give even when I don't feel like it. Because as I do, I feel my capacity to give and to create grow hundredfold.

beginning anew,

M

rebel

got my first parking ticket today. In fact, it was my first driving violation reprimand of any kind.

I know, I know. I'm such a goodie two-shoes. But now I'm going down the dark and slippery slope of breaking the law. Next thing you know I'll be pulling off a jewelry heist.

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.

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

food for thought

We had planned for weeks and weeks to get the roommates together to take a trip to this place. Finally our dream came to fruition. I had to meet them there, racing home from work in record time, even turning down a boy to be with them (that's what I call roommate love).

Pungent, foreign, rich, vibrant, smells enveloped me and I knew I had come to the right place.

I seem to be indifferent about Chinese, Thai, or other Asian food, but Indian holds a fond place in my heart. We all had the lunch buffet (which I would definitely recommend if you've never had Indian because you can try a little of everything). I walked up to grab food and I was greeted by a rich array of deep oranges, rich browns, lovely greens, reds, and yellows, together beautiful symphony of color and food.

As I was being wrapped up in the warm delight of naan, chicken tikka marsala and rice, I allowed my mind to wander to a place it hadn't in a while. A place I forgotten I loved to be. A place where I dreamed of being in India. Of traveling and exploring, growing and learning, feeling and becoming. I longed to jump on a plane and be off. But somewhere deep inside whispered that this is not the season for such a journey. But soon. Oh how I hate seasons.

learning to love this season,
M

S to L-A-B

I took one look at that piece of Pizza and my stomach hurt.


so big, but so good.


I went with three other friends, so we all picked one and then shared, which was the best idea ever. Thai chicken, BBQ chicken, Buffalo wing, Veg+pep+sausage. I must say that the thai chicken was my favorite, but I really shouldn't even say that, it was all just so yummy. The atmosphere is awesome (different and hip, but not in a trendy, stuck up kind of a way) and the owner rocks (we even got free t-shirts). It's a tiny little place and since the weather was nice, we sat outside. It was a great idea until this darling little boy came and sat at the table next to us. I stopped eating and talking and even thinking and was completely mesmerized by him. I mean the kid had a bowl cut and chubby cheeks, along with a hilarious personality and I couldn't resist.

All and all, success!

M

ps: just a little warning, the pieces are literally a 1/4 of a pizza so go hungry or share or box it up or feed it to the ducks on the way home but be prepared

Gloria's

She had gotten the job, which meant she was not leaving me (yet) so we headed here to celebrate. My first restaurant I got to cross of the list.

mmm, gnocchi. Such an odd word for something that tastes so good. I could hardly remember the last time I had it, and I knew I needed to order it. It came swimming in a delightful rosy-pink sauce. Sadly I have to say, I was a little disappointed. It wasn't so much disappointment in the food as it was disappointment in myself. I knew that I should really love it. I knew that it was good quality, authentic Italian, but alas, I have had no exposure to "real" Italian food, nor do I eat any Italian food all that often, so I couldn't truly appreciate the hundreds of calories that were now coursing through my blood stream. I would compare the experience to how I feel about photography. I can tell the bad from the good, that's easy. But I can't tell the good from the great or the great from the visionary because I don't have the knowledge, exposure, experience, etc. I can tell Little Caesar's from Old Spaghetti Factory, but not Old Spaghetti from Little Gloria's (ok, I can actually make that distinction, but I couldn't think of a better example).

Since it was a little pricey and I wasn't raving about the food, and therefore wasn't sure if I would ever make it back, we decided we needed dessert. If you know me at all you know that any of the following words take away any and all self-control:
chocolate
molten
lava
cake
flourless
torte
triple chocolate
rich
fudge


And that's just what I ordered. A GIGANTIC molten chocolate cake that looked like pacman. It was so daunting I just stared at it, not knowing how or where to go about tackling this giant chocolate monster. It was yummy, but after about three bites I could eat no more (so full, like unbutton my pants full). So it was boxed up and eaten on the floor of my apartment in the wee hours by a bunch of gaggling girls.


Little Gloria's was proudly checked off the list. yay!

M

Note to self: don't ever write these posts while at work and starving

here

This summer I'm stuck in Provo and itching to be anywhere but here. In an attempt to make this summer great despite this unfortunate fact, I started making lists.

Restaurants in Provo I've never been to, places I want to see in Utah, ways to stay sane at work (so far that list has not served me very well), things I need to get done this summer, things I want to save up for... lists lists lists.

Some lists are more fun than others, namely restaurants and adventures in Utah so to hold me accountable to these lists and to have something to do at work, I am documenting my excursions, writing reviews, telling stories, etc.

First round of adventure posts to appear shortly,
M