like it's 1999

Can we please discuss how much we love her? And her Silver jeans and Simple clogs?

they say white jeans are in this spring

After a quick online convo with my cousin in NYC late one night this week, I ordered a pair of white jeans with her fashion-forward A-OK. They're on their way. In addition to Liv's hope for spring, is it too much to hope for a day like this one, too? Oh, J. Crew. The things you do. (p.s. Love this song by "Let's Go Sailing.")

boat+sun+trampoline=happiness

The brief glimmer of sun/hope today is making me especially anxious for spring this year! And then I found this picture on aucklanddailyphoto.com, and I am seriously ready to head out the door to the beach. Anyone with me?

"Ciao!" she numbly exclaimed

Sometimes an emotional defense mechanism catalyzes this effect: the numbness number. To protect myself from the sadness, the bliss, the fear, the excitement, and the whole range of emotion...I just give myself a figurative shot of novocaine. Soon it will wear off. So, as I gingerly anticipate the deluge of feelings, I would like to calmly state "Ciao! Vi voglio bene!"

MTC address:

Sister Ann Elizabeth Stevens

Italy Milan Mission

Provo Missionary Training Center

2005 N 900 E

Provo, Ut 84604

P.S. I LOVE LOVE LOVE the Yale Commemorative Program. "Grazie Mille!"

We will miss annie

Annie always makes us laugh. Sometimes she is talking about friends, boys, memories but no matter what we can all relate. She is really sweet and quite the boy magnent. She has a talent for art, athleticism, and music. And soon she will be a missionary converting the wonderfull italian people to the church. @(**)@ < that is a koala


by nell

just a shallow thought

I sat glued to the television on Monday night. The nation waited to hear how to survive, what to do without a job, who to trust about the stimulus, and where to go next. I listened deeply. But, the shallow Annie won out.* The incessant thought nagged at me then and reemerged on RiteAid's makeup aisle today: "Does he wear makeup? Does he use ProActiv (watch out Jessica Simpson)? How else could it be HUMANLY possible to get such pristinely, clear skin?"

*The Warren Harding effect lives on and we might as well admit it. We all know that if he revealed the product name...we would fly to the store to buy som'that.

After getting your braces tightened you must not consume:
a) Chewy, sticky foods
b) Hard foods that can sever brackets
c) Crunchy things that get stuck in between wires
or
d) All of the above

So a few days ago my braces were tightened, making it impossible to eat anything and everything that I usually snack on each day. Eventually I figured out that you can still eat all of the forbidden foods, it just hurts a lot. Despite the hurt, I'd munch through the pain, conquering what dear Dr. Richard's had stated as impossible. This kind of pain was physically. As in-
Pain, noun.
1) Physical discomfort caused by illness or injury. 2) A feeling of marked discomfort.

After a while, I have become a master at fighting through the pain to eat the food I want.

However, today I felt a different kind of pain. That is, pain in the heart. But I wasn't crying for me, I was crying for Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams. Or, Noah Calhoun and Allie Hamilton. As I sat in the basement all alone, I watched the story of a boy and a girl who fall in love one summer, and then fall in love all over again. The Notebook had me crying so hard that after a while I was numb to the fountain of water that was flowing down my face. The story isn't sad, it's actually quite happy. But for some reason, I only felt sadness. And I am wondering how it is that we can feel for people that we haven't even met. That we can feel for a story that isn't even real. That we can feel the pain, joy or happiness that we ourselves aren't even experiencing.



(The answer is D)

yellow flag

The Granola Vampire has been trying to take me to Sizzler. I refuse to go. I may take up rock climbing just to prove to him that I don't belong there. I deserve Cucina Toscana. Or OneWorld Cafe at the very least.

Dear Wilbur*

Since Valentine's Day is just around the corner, I thought I'd take this time to apologize about a certain day long ago on the fourteenth of February. We were in fifth grade and you had finally summed up the courage to tell me that you liked me. After months of sacrificing your turn to give me another chance at serving the ball in P.E. volleyball, after weeks of your name appearing on my family's caller I.D., and after days of your friends confronting me and asking me who I liked, you finally told me what I already knew. As the days passed happily by, I realized that Valentine's Day was coming up, and that I didn't have a clue if I was to give you something special. My friends were of no help, and so I eventually decided that I would give you one extra chocolate than I was giving everybody else. Just one.

Arriving to school that day with my box decorated with lacy hearts, I hesitantly pulled out my homemade Valentine cards. Everybody received two chocolates, one pin, and a card saying, "You're Just My Type." But you got three chocolates, a carefully made pin, and beautifully decorated card. Deciding that I'd give you your Valentine when you were not looking, I quickly smashed the present into your box (not nearly as pretty as mine), and ran off to tell my friends what I had just done. By the time I reached my own box, your present was already there; a huge bag of sweethearts wrapped with the prettiest bow I had ever seen. I remember there was a note attached, but I can't quite recall what was written. All I remember was the wave of sadness that washed over me because I had only given you one extra chocolate in the shape of a heart. However, that feeling did not last long when I saw that you had given two other girls the same Valentine as me. I then looked on the candy with disgust, and vowed never to eat a sweetheart again (however, the promise broken that very day). Instead of eating your gift, I ate a whole pack of gum that Carter* had given to me. That would teach you never to give three girls the same Valentine, especially when you told a certain girl that you liked her.

Now comes the part I regret, and the part where I should have apologized. Because on that same day, I chose Carter to be my Valentine. Not you. And to top it all off, Carter was your best friend and I consented to being his Valentine right in front of you. Your heart was broken, and so was mine. Because really, I wanted you to be my fifth grade Valentine.

Love,
Naomi

*name has been changed