I Am Human

Christmas 2010 I received a very thoughtful, very long, hand-written letter from my best friend. At 9 pages front and back, and given to me about a week before I left for college, she gave me an amazing piece of advice, “you are not Superwoman, don’t try to be.”

Two and a half years later, I am learning the significance of her admonition. I have now been enrolled in 8 consecutive semesters, maintaining a minimum of 16 credit hours for 7 of them, and being employed, (both paid and unpaid positions), for 5 of those terms. During this time, I have also been on 51 first dates, been in 3 serious relationships, and made the best friends I’ve ever had. Sounds busy, huh? There’s more.

 I am a dance minor, and have participated in 3, invitation only works of choreography, which I don’t get credit for and don’t get paid to be in. They take a minimum of 2 hours of rehearsal a week. For credit, I’ve been on a team called Dance Alliance for 4 semesters, which rehearses between 6-8 hours a week regularly, though sometimes we can rehearse in upwards of 20 hours a week.  We also travel, sometimes during the school week. Just like your favorite infomercial I can say, “But wait, there’s more!”

Just over a year ago my parents began the divorce process. As if trying to work through and understand my thoughts and feelings about it wasn’t challenging enough, I broke my foot about a month later. I was taking 20 credit hours at the time and working 10-15 hours a week.

I pushed through it. Just like I push through everything else.

I tried to be Superwoman.

I don’t claim to be wise. I don’t claim to know all of the answers. But one thing that I’ve realized is that the key to happiness is recognizing that you are human.

That’s right.

I am human.

And I struggle with human emotions and human problems.

I get frustrated. I get hurt. I get angry. I cry. I get jealous. I make stupid mistakes. I. Am. Human

It’s okay to feel frustrated. It’s okay to be hurt. Making mistakes is part of life, an area that I am particularly proficient at. It’s by reminding myself that I’m not perfect, and that I won’t be overnight, that I have been able to not only accept myself, but also accept others. I am realizing that I can’t measure someone by a standard which I myself cannot, or have not, achieved.

Don’t tell my dad, but I think it’s okay, healthy even, to skip a homework assignment every once and a while. I dropped a class for the first time in my life. Most liberating feeling, ever. Sometimes you have to take a moment for yourself. The “me” moments. Sometimes it’s being silly. Sometimes it’s crying. Sometimes it’s treating yourself to a mani/pedi. (Which I want like crazy right now).  Sometimes it’s giving into those moments when you just don’t want to do anything.

The fact of the matter is. I don’t want to do homework. Which is why I wrote this blog. 

I Think I Can Kind of Christmas

Christmas. It’s my favorite. I love everything about Christmas. I love the lights. I love the smells, (particularly cinnamon). I love the kindness. I love the music. And this year... I love the garbage truck with Christmas lights on it that plays Christmas music so loud I can hear it in my bedroom.

This year I was ready for Christmas early. Generally I have a strict “No Christmas before Thanksgiving” rule. But this year was different. About a week before Thanksgiving, I pulled out my iPod and pressed play. As my favorite Christmas album filled the air I was flooded with memories of boxes and boxes of Christmas decorations. Hours of singing and dancing around the house as we filled it with holiday cheer. I decided that day to decorate my bedroom. I bought lights and glitter-covered snowflakes and got to work.

For weeks I have listened to Josh Groban, Michael Buble, Amy Grant, Celtic Women, 98 degrees, and my personal favorite: Point of Grace. For weeks the sight and sound of Christmas has filled my heart with excitement and joy. Until last week.

The week before finals is always stressful. But this year was especially hard. On Saturday afternoon, I spent all afternoon in my bedroom. (I do not recommend this). From the time I woke up, to the time I went to bed, I was in my bedroom with the exception of 1 trip to the kitchen for food, and a few trips to the restroom. It was an emotional day.  After spending nearly 12 straight hours on homework, I made a to-do list.

Please note: I am taking 19 credit hours this semester. I work 13-15 hours a week. And I have tried to maintain some semblance of a social life.

I counted 9 exams that I needed to take. And then I counted 4 papers I needed to write. At the bottom of my list it said “Pack.”

I burst into tears. For the fourth time that day.

This time it wasn’t out of frustration, stress, or exhaustion. This time it was because of Christmas.

My parents are in the middle of a divorce. I love them both very much, and I know that they love me. But I don’t feel like I have a home. I realized in that moment, it would be my first Christmas without a family. I sobbed. I sobbed until the tears wouldn’t come. I sobbed until I couldn’t breathe.

I don’t know what it will be like. Quite frankly, I’m scared to find out. But I learned something special this year:

"I think I can" becomes "I knew I could" as we work hard and never give up. Adversity is unavoidable but the way that we face our adversity determines the outcome of our experiences.”

This Christmas, I think I can.

How to Survive a Rexburg Winter

Today marks the beginning of my third winter in Idaho. I am pretty much a pro at survival. As our first snow of the season approaches the 1 foot mark, I decided that I should share a few tips for Rexburg winters. Trust me. It is a winter like no where else. These solutions will not work for everyone, but I’m still alive and going strong!

What I wish I would have known as a freshman...

•        There is no such thing as a snow day. – Snow is on the ground almost every day from now until late April. Sometimes later if we’re lucky.Almost like the ocean reaching the sky, the snow line does the same thing. If you’re like me and hate snow. Congratulations, you live in a snow globe. Figure it out. You’re going to have to trudge in it every day for the next six months.
•        We Rexburgers have a term for when you slip on the snow/ice. It’s called “The Rexburg.” –I do not care who you are. Before you graduate or transfer, (whichever comes first), you WILL “do the Rexburg.” Embrace the embarrassment. And save your tailbone, don’t walk with your phone in your hand.
• Robert Frost was a man of incredible wisdom. – “Two roads diverged in a wood, and I – I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference.” When possible, do NOT take the commonly use route. People walking in the snow equates to snow melting or getting packed down. Melted and/or packed snow equates to ice. Ice means Rexburging. If you can, walk in the powder… If not… Make the best of falling.
•  NEVER say “It’s cold out.” – Saying it’s cold is like egging the universe on. Right now it’s a balmy 30 degrees. It ALWAYS (can and will) get colder.  Invest in long johns and/or footie pajamas.
• Winter is not a fashion show. – Some people are totally cute in their scarves and pea coats… but really, they’re freezing. My recommendation, buy a few pairs of CHEAP winter jeans. Walmart actually has some cute ones. Buy them at least a size too big. Then you have plenty of space for layering! (I know, I’m brilliant.) Also, cute boots are just that. Cute. In my experience, cute boots have no traction. Please refer to tip 2 to see the result of no traction.
• Tuck your jeans in your boots. – I really recommend boots. I really recommend tucking your jeans. Most places use salt to clear the road. Rexburg uses red sand. Washing machines aren’t that great in college. So tuck. Otherwise, you’ll have red clay caked to the cuff or your jeans until April. GROSS.
• Hair. – Men don’t really have a problem with this. Or makeup for that matter. However, girls, we have issues. My suggestions either put it up, or style it the way it is naturally. We always want what we don’t have but trust me. Curly hair if straightened will just go curly. Straight hair if curled will just look awful. On that note… Make sure it’s COMPLETELY dry before you leave the house… it can, and does freeze. Popsicle hair, though totally fashion forward, breaks. Seriously.
• Bring tissues. – The fact of the matter is. It’s cold. It will only get colder. Fun fact about cold weather: nose hairs freeze. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling. It’s even worse when you walk in a building and immediately Niagara falls relocated to your face. Either give yourself even time to go to the restroom before class, or bring tissues. No one likes hearing you sniffle.
• Beware of traffic. – Pedestrians. Bicycles. Unicycles (if you haven’t seen her, she does exist). Cars. You name it. Snow makes people do crazy things. If you Rexburg into someone else… Well, that’ll hurt and I might laugh.
• Leave your windshield wipers up. – In the cold. In the snow… Rubber freezes to glass. Pretty much everything freezes actually. If you have a car, and you don’t want to replace your windshield wipers every week. Stick ‘em up. 
• For the beach babes.  - Your skin is probably turning a color you've never seen before. There are three tanning salons in Rexburg. If you want to look like an alien, sign up now. The rest of us are just going to stay pale... It's not worth the drive or walk. 
• Be positive. -- The last and most important tip to survive Rexburg is to stay positive. There is always something to complain about. Always. Anyone can complain, but it takes a true Rexburg Champion to make the best of this cold, white, and dreary situation.

You got this!! 

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A Very Special Announcement

Yesterday, I announced on Facebook the following:

On Tuesday afternoon I read this scripture, "And now, O my son(daughter), ye are called of God to preach the word unto this people. And now, my son (daughter), go thy way, declare the word with truth and soberness, that thou mayest bring souls unto repentance, that the great plan of mercy may have claim upon them. And may God grant unto you even according to my words. Amen." (Alma 42: 31)

This afternoon in the 182nd Semi-Annual General Conference, President Thomas S. Monson announced that young women can now serve a full-time mission at the age of 19.

My dear friends and family,

I am pleased, and excited, to announce that I have chosen to serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I feel as though the Lord has prepared me for this decision and for the wonderful experiences that will come from it. I will begin preparing my papers within the week. Much love!

Danica

There has been an influx of love and support from the members of my family, and of the communities which I have lived in. However, I have also seen many people who have made their less supportive comments in other, indirect ways. I wish to take this opportunity to address those concerns. I agree because this is a life changing decision, it is not one that should be made lightly, nor should it be made because others are making it. This is personal. It is between the individual and God. I want to share with you some of the experiences leading to this decision; I pray that in doing so those who are more skeptical will see that this is not a rash or rushed decision.

Some three and a half years ago, I received my patriarchal blessing. (For those not familiar with the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this is a special blessing received which is given to provide guidance and direction throughout our mortal lives). Within this blessing, there was quite a bit of detail concerning the opportunity that I would have, if I desired it, to serve a full-time, proselyting mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. From that time forward, I have always considered serving if I made it to the age of 21, (the age at which young women used to be able to serve), without getting married.

Not too long after that, I had the opportunity to participate in a youth activity called the mini- MTC (Missionary Training Center). Myself, along with a hundred, or so, other youth spent a weekend as if we were on our missions. We learned the gospel discussions which are taught, and we were even allowed to try our hand at preaching the gospel from door to door. It was a very challenging weekend, but it affirmed my desire to serve.

Over the years, I have had the desire to serve, but have been told by many that there is no way that I would make it to the required age without a shiny diamond ring on my finger. These comments have been difficult to hear, and often disheartening, but I never gave up my desire.

In the past year, I have encountered many difficulties. I have felt heart ache and heart break like never imaginable, but I have been positive because of my love for, and trust in Christ. Just over a month ago, I made the decision to be more consistent in my daily scripture study and prayer. I also determined I would attend the temple, (a sacred place of worship), on a weekly basis. As I have done so, I have felt more strongly that I should serve a mission.

I feel that I have been preparing for, and working towards this decision for many years. I feel that it is right for me to go now.  In addressing the church this morning President Thomas S. Monson firmly stated that we should not hesitate to answer a prompting. I am not, and will not, hesitate. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I believe it. I know it. And I live it.

Again, I am grateful for the love and support which I have felt. I pray that the Lord will be with me in my endeavors, and that each of you reading will feel of His love.

Danica 

Being Broken

About a month ago, I broke my foot dancing. I landed a jump wrong and felt the fracture ripple through my body. It was a very unique experience; I actually felt as though I was the bone that was breaking. It was a deep and unusual sensation. I have sprained, I have strained, and I have torn, I have felt those pains, and now, I have felt the pain of a break.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am an avid dancer; I was born to be on stage. When I broke myself I was rehearsing for a performance with Brigham Young University- Idaho’s Dance Alliance. The team works together for 8 months and puts on two shows on campus, then travels for two weeks to cap off the experience. So, being a member of the team with a broken foot has been my personal hell. Almost everyone I have encountered has expressed how impressed they are by my positive attitude and cheerful demeanor throughout the healing process. However, no one has seen the terrible heartbreak that I feel every day. No one has recognized that beyond my smile, beyond my words, there is a sorrow deeper than they could imagine. No one has witnessed my insecurity, my vulnerability, the feeling as if part of me had died; no one has witnessed that, until now.

I have felt more pain in this past month than I ever could have imagined. I have faced more challenges and difficulties in this past year than I would ever wish on anyone, not even my most despised enemy. My body, mind, and spirit have been broken, both literally and metaphorically, and tonight, I cried. I have shed more tears in the last eight months than I think I have in my entire life. Not one of these tears was as cleansing as those I cried tonight. With each tear I addressed my feelings; my hopes, my dreams, my successes, my failures. I let myself open up, and I mended what was broken.

To those who feel broken, lonely, and like there is no end. I promise, there is a light at the end of the tunnel. Gordon B. Hinckley, former President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints once said, “Love is more than a paper heart. Love is of the very essence of life. It is the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Yet it is more than the end of the rainbow. Love is at the beginning also, and from it springs the beauty that arches across the sky on a stormy day” (And the Greatest of These Is Love, Mar. 1984). As long as there is one person around to love you, you can make it through, and there is always at least one: Jesus Christ.

You can do it!

 Matthew 11:28-30 Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.

 29 Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

 30 For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

I-SABS

****** WARNING! THERE IS NOT READER'S DIGEST VERSION OF THIS STORY*****

So, I have a friend.

Yes, just one.

He is 75% Awesome, and 25% nerd; it makes for the perfect combination of awesome nerdiness. The first time I saw him, we had a stare down. I was sitting on a garden bench, and he was walking directly towards me, (with stellar confidence I might add). I thought for sure that he was coming to talk to me. But he did not, and we exchanged a polite smile as he passed.

Now, mind you, I was freaking out on the inside: “Oh my gosh, he’s kind of cute. Crap, is he coming over here? No, no, no, no, no… Seriously?!..... Phew, he passed me!”

   

Then, the sprinklers went off.

Please note: I’m not really the kind of person to sit around in a garden… I was there for a photo shoot, and the last thing I needed to be was wet from the sprinklers. So, squealing like a little girl as I popped up from my bench and jogged to where I would be meeting up with my photographer was perfectly in character, and not in the least bit embarrassing... Well, okay, maybe a little. Anyways, Ms. Pic gets a phone call while I’m chatting with her, she tells the pseron where we're at, and around the corner comes model number two, the one and only Mr. Confidence.

With a simultaneous and scrambled “that was... I was…uh hi!” we quickly burst into laughter and introduced ourselves, began our never ending conversation about burritos, and got to business.

We took some pictures together. Like this one.

And this one.

(Pictures courtesy of Ms. Pic)

We exchanged funny pick up lines, and eventually digits.

Next came our date. (A few days later of course). We went to a standup comedy show, out for Chinese food, then back to his apartment to play Rock Band, and this, is where we found out that if we were any nerdier, more nerdy?, the Chess club would call us. In his apartment was only the coolest thing ever: a dry erase board. Mr. Confidence and I proceeded to spend the rest of our date talking about action potentials, afferent and efferent nerves, and muscle reflexes.

Anyways, the whole point of this is a text message I received a day or two ago that said:

"So, I can understand the whole get to know you thing on campus. But doing it online just seems like stalker paradise to me."

After confessing that that statement had made my day I got this:

"I like it when I can. They're like: tell them your name, age, major, home address, phone number, color of underwear you're wearing, if you like grilled cheese or not, and especially if you're married or not."

Something you must know about this friendship is that "are you hitting on me?" is an everyday question. Well, not really a question, just a pointing out of the obvious in an innocent way. That is where the title I-SABS comes in...

I am a stress magnet. I also seem to attract drama really well. At any rate, one particularly stressful, dramatic, and don't forget emotional night, I received a text from Mr. Confidence. I don't remember what the text message was about, but I know it made me laugh. It was the first time I felt an honest laugh come out in a few days... It felt amazing!

Whatever it was about, it turned into obvious flirtation, and then came the magic question followed by a "yeah, I'm not very subtle". Of course, I couldn't have him feeling embarrassed so I introduced I-SABS.. An imaginary club that values our membership even more than the Chess Club. I-SABS stands for "I Suck at Being Subtle".

Moral of the story. Who cares if you're bad at being subtle? Confidence can make your day!!

Two Dumbs Make a Smart

“Ugh! My parents are SO DUMB!”

We’ve all heard it and most of us have said it. So, if your parents are really as dumb as you say they are, why are you standing right in front of me? Personally, I think my parents are pretty dang smart! After all, they made me J

Not too long ago I had a conversation with my best friend that went something like this:

Me: It would suck if I didn’t have you to mentally articulate the ridiculous mess that comes out of my mouth in the form of words.

Best-ee: Seriously. What would you do without me?

Me: I’d feel really, really, dumb.

Best-ee: Well, you shouldn’t. Because if you’re really, really, dumb, then I’m REALLY, REALLY, REAAAAAALLLY dumb.

Me: Hahah that is why we are only semi-dumb together… or maybe we’re extra dumb, I’m not sure

Best-ee: No. Two dumbs make a smart. It’s like multiplication… Or maybe it’s like addition?

Me: Haha!! I totally have to write a blog about this.

(For reference as to why this conversation even happened… Here’s a picture)

Now, this little “two dumbs makes a smart” talk had absolutely nothing to do with parenting and everything to do with our future vacations together, but that’s beside the point. In reality, she’s right! Maybe not about multiplication, but riddle me this:

If my parents are two dumbs, that made a smart (me), would it not stand to reason that their parents were two dumbs that made a smart? And my grandparent’s parents were two dumbs that made a few smarts? Et cetera, et cetera…Making me a dumb who will eventually find another dumb, and make a smart! And if all of that is the case, I sure am glad that my parents are dumb!!

Basically, two dumbs make a smart, which just makes more dumbs.

It all makes sense now!