Cramage.

I have been practicing since about 3:00 this afternoon. It is now 11:00 in the evening. 

Now it hasn't been straight practicing. Believe me, I've taken some periodic breaks in between Bach, and scales, and arpeggios, and all of that Jazz.

Tomorrow is my Jury. This morning I was terrified, and completely stressed out. But I feel much better now. And I know it's going to be alright. After who knows how many hours of practice. 

My fingers hate me right now.

I had some pretty rugged calices already, but now my finger tips are just torn to pieces. This semester has taught me a lot, and I'm excited to apply the knowledge I have to the next semester, but most of all it has taught me how much work music really is.

As cool as this sexy cello pose seams, it actually has some of the worst technique ever. That bow hold is atrocious. Ew. I can't even handle it. And no one would angle their left hand like that. She is making celloing much harder than it actually is. 

This is actually what real celloing looks like. Yes. We all make weird faces when we play, but it is hard work, and our face is the last thing we want to think about.

It's a pretty unglamorous world. You get to be locked inside a practice room for 80% of life. Just practicing. An that's where I've been all semester, and especially all week. 

Now I'm not trying to sit here and complain about my life, because at the end of the day, I love what I do. Even if it's sometimes a love/hate relationship. But I honestly love what I do.

It's. Just. Hard. And things that are worth it are usually hard. I will make it though. This semester has taught me so much, and I look forward to even better ones where I have things figured out. For now, I'm going to play my best tomorrow, and show them what I've got. 

And here is to all of those in the musical trenches of life. 

My brothers and sisters, it is hard, but it is worth it, and we can make it!

A Series of Incredible Weekends.

During the course of my entire Senior Year I worked a part time job. 

It was a good job, and I really shouldn't complain. However, it rendered my weekends no longer existent, because I always had to work.

College has reignited my absolute love and appreciation of this beautiful thing we call the Weekend. Everyone works so hard during the week, that by the time Friday rolls around, many a shout and praise of Hallelujah can be heard.

It is usually the weekends which house some of my greatest adventures, and I have been slacking in the department of documenting them. So, here you go. A series of Incredible weekends. 

Fall Break.

The younger cousin of Spring Break and Christmas Break. The first official "Break" of the school year. A reason for celebration, and pure wild animal craziness. Myself, Two of my Roommates, and one of my dear friends seized this opportunity in a whirlwind of a weekend that I will never forget. 

First, we trekked back to Layton, and spent the night at my parents' house. We all just slept on my parents new, very comfortable furniture. They were being the doting parents they are, and for a while as we were setting bedding arrangements up, they just kept saying, "Are you guys gonna be okay? Is this going to be comfortable enough? There's more couches upstairs if you need it..." And for a good 10 minutes, they circled about us trying to fix or make better.... what ever it is they thought they needed to. 

My parents didn't realize our abilities to sleep literally anywhere. I have fallen asleep on wood benches that are nothing short of a mid-evil torture device during the dullest brass quintet concert you've ever seen. A couch like the one at my parents house is probably one of the softest things we had seen in weeks, and maybe even months.

So, they finally retired, and we chatted for a bit about our plans, and finally gave into sleep. 

I literally slept on my poor friend's legs. She was trying not to kick me in the face, and if she did I didn't even notice.

We can literally sleep anywhere. I'm sugar coating it if anything.

Morning soon came, with my parents walking in around 10:00, surprised to find us all still completely unconscious. College sleep is some of the deepest sleep that exists, and I think my parents were finally remembering or coming to grips with this crazy life style we lead. 

My mother was a sweetheart, and made us all a breakfast fit for a king. We probably also hadn't seen any meals like that in weeks, so it was a wonderful morning. 

My other roommate had gotten her wisdom teeth out, so we went to bring her a slurpee. What a trooper she was! 

And then. It began.

This was about what had inspired this weekend. 

Nothing like 4 girls in a car with nothing but a few clothes, tooth brushes, and an insane itch for an adventure. 

Our first stop. Salt Lake City. Mah Town. During the course of the summer, my independent spirit was absolutely itching to be anywhere but my house. Salt Lake was my place. I went there as much as I could. Just me. I explored that city, and I was about to explore it even more with some of my favorite people. 

First stop. The book store. This was one of those stores that was just oozing books. We even went into the creepy basement which houses possibly every copy of National Geographic, in creepy dank hallways and passages. I even found a random pile of some Vinyl Records. THEY HAD ALL OF CARMEN. NOT TO MENTION WAGNER'S TANNHAUSER. (You're welcome music nerds. Everyone else, there's nothing to see here. Carry on.) Here is a glimpse.

This little hole in the wall swallowed us for a solid 3 hours. When we finally regrouped, we looked at the time, and all just sat there for a minute. Then we just went, "No way......" It was fabulous! My purchases from the venture? "The Catcher in the Rhye", and "The Geek's guide to Dating." Quite the successful trip.

While we were in Salt Lake, we also went to H&M, being the hipsters that we are. We just drooled over everything for a good hour. I did get one dress of sorts, and it was just over all fun.

Of course it isn't a trip to Salt Lake without a trip to historic Temple Square. So, we walked around temple square, and went in the Joseph Smith Memorial building. 

Next we met up with my roommate's Dad who had secured a hotel in Park City for us. He gave us the room keys and everything we needed. 

So, we were on our way yet again. It soon became apparent that this was no Motel 6. It was literally at the top of the mountain in Park City. You know, where celebrities have their 20th summer get away. We got to the hotel, and walked in, and just started laughing! The hotel room. Okay, this is one hotel room. It had a fire place. Most people's houses don't even have a fire place.

Suddenly, we all felt very white trash. And to seal the deal, all we wanted was pizza. Now, how does one get cheap pizza, in park city, to a hotel at the top of a mountain. Order it and make someone else think about it. So that's exactly what we did. Except we were REALLY HUNGRY. So, 4 white, very skinny girls ordered 3 pizzas. 3 PIZZAS. WHAT? Yeah, we didn't finish them. But it was all quite delicious :) So, we all sat on our beds, watched the lego movie, and ate pizza. In Park City.

The color on our TV was off. One of my roommates really wanted to call the front desk about it, but we all just said, "NO! THEN THEY WILL SEE OUR WHITE TRASH AND KNOW WE ARE IMPOSTORS!" 

So, we just dealt with the sub par Television. 

The next day, we walked through the shops and outlets in Park City, and just chilled, and enjoyed the care freeness of the remainder of that weekend. It was just a wonderful weekend, and I didn't really want it to end. Okay, no one ever wants any weekend to end, but this was especially so. 

Now, let's fast forward a few weekends. 

Through a bunch of tests, and assignments, and we come to a crazy absolutely awesome weekend. 

There's a certain fella I have been talking to, hanging out with, going on dates with, etc. Great guy, really like him, the whole nine yards. Now, on this friday night, he had agreed to go with me to yet another required concert I had to go to. It was our senior cellist's senior recital. Now that was cool and fun, but only lasted about 30 minutes. Our Band was doing a Lord of the Rings concert later that night, and 2 of our friends had been thinking about going. 

I turned to him and said, "Well, we could go kidnap them and hit up the LOTR concert."

"I'm thinking this needs to happen." Was his reply. 

And with that we got up and went back to get these friends of ours. We walked right into Anna's apartment without any permission, sat down with her and her roommates at their table, and convinced her to go with us. Next, we got his roommate, and now we were ready. 

The Lord of the Rings concert was so much fun. Both of the guys were in band in high school, and it is so much fun to go to concerts with all of them, because they can talk about music like the way I can. It's one of my most favorite things :)  

After the concert, I decided we needed some Aggie Ice Cream, so we went to Smith's and got a pint. In the car ride home, I was blasting some amazing tunage. So amazing that we just couldn't stop. So, we drove around for a good 30 minutes and just blasted music and sang at the top of our lungs. It was so much fun!

Eventually we retreaded to my humble abode to partake of the Ice Cream I had bought. Then, we all decided to put on a movie. First up was "The Lego Movie." A fabulous choice indeed. And This wonderful guy held my hand during it :) So, The Lego Movie ended, and we put in Frozen. Eventually Frozen ended, and we put in Tangled. We all fell asleep during Tangled. Finally we all woke up around 5:00 in the morning. We all just sat up with sleepy faces, and deep voices and thought, "What. Are. We. Doing?"

At this point, my roommate who works ridiculous hours came home. She saw all of us on the couch, and on floors, and just said, "WHAT."

Now, what else would you do when you come home at 5:00 in the morning and everyone is still up? Go to the temple I say! So that is exactly what we did.

The cute Pawsee at the temple :) It was so much fun and I absolutely loved it!

We came back home at about 7 in the morning. After more than 25 hours without sleep. We all stood in the parking lot and just stared at the ground and everyone would take a turn saying, "We are crazy.... What are we doing?" 

So, we finally hugged it off, and went to bed. 

That night, was hockey.

The weekend fest continued, and ended with watching hilarious musicals and just even more great times. 

What a weekend it was. We all agreed it was some of the best of times, and that we more great times would follow. With much more sleep, naturally, but I don't think any of us regretted the amazing times we had :) 

I must add just one more adventure in this series of unforgettable times with these unforgettable people :)

Last night, I had a date with this exceptional guy. We went to kneaders, and enjoyed some beautiful pastries. Next, my roommate was working late, so a visit was in order. We walked around the store, and were just spazzes until she got off. 

Next, we went home and caught the tale end of a movie with our friends. 

By now, we had been graced with yet another layer of Logan snow. And what does this call for? A snowball fight. We all ran out into the cold night, bucking chunks of snow and ice at each other, and laughing all the way. 

There was even a snowman made right in front of my porch. 

So, like anyone else who is outside, and awake at midnight when it's snowing, we decided to walk up to Old Main, and have some winter fun.

We walked up and found that many other Aggies have the same idea.... at the same time of night as us. So, we watched the winter fun for a while, and even partook a little bit.

Well, we were cold, and hot chocolate was calling. So, it was back home for us. We brewed up some hot chocolate, piled on the whipped cream, and enjoyed a little winter confectionary joy. 

Then, we turned on Batman Begins. 

The night ended with some cuddling, and some fun laughs as we watched and critiqued yet another movie.

And finally, at 4 a.m. We called it quits a bit early, compared to our last late weekend ;) Overall, it's been so much fun. Every weekend. 

I love the friendships I have formed up here, and the people I'm surrounded by I would not trade for the world. They have made these amazing memories with me, and the time I've spent with them has been some of the most amazing ever. 

So here is a glimpse into that beautiful dawn called the college weekend.

And here is raising our glasses to the many more to come :) 

Mah Hipstah Sistah.

So, I have this insanely ridiculous friend. 

Her name is Anna. And she is Mah Hipstah Sistah.

You know, we meet a lot of people in life. But Anna was just one of those people who enhanced my embracement of myself. 

We were talking a few weeks ago, and realized that before we had officially met, we had the exact same thought as we awkwardly passed each other. That thought was,

"Hey, She's hipster. We should be friends." 

And that I believe was the start to a beautiful friendship :)

A very beautiful friendship indeed. 

Anna is one of those people I can just be myself with. Which is just beautiful. Perhaps because we are so similar, we just bring out more of each other in each other. 

What ever the case, it is always a party when Anna is involved.

Now, To continue, I must explain the hipster side of things. 

First, Hipster. 

Everyone hates the idea of Hipsters. Which is, well, a sad thing. I mean, Hater's gonna hate, but they just don't understand. Let me explain this thing we call hipster. 

Okay, being hipster is all about embracing iconic pop culture, kind of. And being ironic and classic. Kind of. You see, you can't fully be any of this, because that is traveling far too close to the line of mainstream for the comfort of any hipster. 

So, bottom line is that everything must be done in a new and original way of your own, or it isn't hipster. And everything must be posted on instagram with a filter and a funky saying written in Helvetica. 

There's your run down. 

It's just a ridiculous culture of newness and excitement born from the ashes of every iconic past thing ever, with a touch of irony.

So, for example, spending an afternoon like this.

And wearing something like this. 

Okay, now back to Anna. 

Anna has helped me embrace even more, my love of adventure, and just living in general. (As if I needed help with that.) But it is certainly more fun with a partner in crime of sorts.

One night, Anna and I just decided to attack some guys' apartment with silly string. 

It was a moment of pure soul. We were just sitting at her table, and I just said, "It would be so funny to just walk in with silly string and attack them." We both kind of laughed, and then it happened. We both just looked up at each other like this. 

At that point, we both just stood up, and proceeded to walmart and completed our dastardly deed.

Another instance, Anna and I were in Park City, and saw a very Hipster fellow walk by. I turned to see Anna's face, and knew that she was thinking the exact same thing as I was.

Now, onward. Anna spent 1 year in Sweden as a foreign exchange student. She shares my love of traveling and adventuring. We constantly speak of traveling all over the world and having wild, and crazy adventures. Isn't that the point of college? To be incredibly poor, but also be overfilling with opportunity, and to just dream about the crazy life you really want to live? 

But that's the thing, with Anna, many of the crazy things we propose feel like they could happen. Like, couch surfing all across Europe. 

I could see us doing this.

Like, waking up one morning, to see a text from Anna that says, 

"Tickets to Iceland are going for 300$ next week. So......" 

At that point, I would throw caution to the wind, pack my bags, and go on an adventure.

I feel like this is just how it would happen.

This is how life with Anna is, and how I always wanted my life to be. I am a spontaneous person who often craves adventure and a change of scenery. 

Anna has only enhanced this. I have not yet decided if this is a good or a bad thing. 

Thus far, I am pretty excited about just being a hipster, and dreaming about traveling this great big world. 

More adventures are certainly in store. 

But can I just express how wonderful it is to have Mah Hipstah Sistah in life? Well, it is. And that is all. 

And Open Letter to my Parents.

I think for the most part, most people at least respect their parents.

And most people realize this even more when they move away. 

I'm not really one of those types who gets homesick. However, coming to college has made me realize that I have a great deal to thank my parents for. So, an open letter to them. You're welcome.

I had a pretty normal childhood by common standards. This is Mom and Dad. Aren't they so cute?! Our joke is that we all grew up together. In other words, I helped raise my siblings. Which may be partially true if you watched videos of my dad playing hide and go seek with me as a toddler. But that's how it should be I think. Kids grow up too fast. And I'm so glad I had parents who essentially partook in childhood again with me. 

First, Mom. 

Everyone loves their mother. But let me tell you a thing or two about mine. 

She is usually the one behind the lens, the giant billion megapixel canon lens that is. She has documented my life like no one I've ever seen. Seriously, I tell my friends she's the paparazzi, but I'm secretly very grateful for that. 

She was of course always amazing in the many motherly respects that most people think of, but that wouldn't really set her apart as a mother, now would it?

After I've moved away, I've come to realize more and more what an incredibly valuable friend my mother is. Those hour long phone conversations with her are just some of my favorites. And I now understand why as children we would find her secluded in her room for hours on the phone with Mormor. If Mormor called, we knew it was gonna be long.

One night, I had called mom, but she couldn't answer then. She called me later, as I was sitting down to hot chocolate, and I rushed out into the parking lot to talk to her for a good hour. When I got off the phone, I had a text from my roommate that said, "Are you okay? You just left a full cup of hot chocolate, and a piece of banana bread so....." 

There are so many things I learned from my mother just by being with her. She is one of the smartest people I know, and I think my love of culture, and refinement are largely from her. She helped me actually read, and subliminally introduced me to classical music until I decided it was some pretty cool stuff. She helped me know how to handle many situations, and she helped me know how to laugh. Confession. I love my mom's laugh. It's the best thing ever. Probably where my boisterous laugh comes from.

She has been to practically all of my concerts. Which, seems like a fairly normal thing that most parents do, but I don't think you understand. I just talked to my mom recently, and she was mentioning how it's "concert season" which is nothing like soccer season. Concert season is like once a month. With 4 kids all in music programs, there were some weeks where my mother would drive straight from one concert to another in a night, and then have 2 more concerts that week. And she tried to make it to all of them. Amazing I tell you. It always meant a lot to know she would be there with as many of my siblings she could possibly drag along with her. She even had the whole family up here for my first college performance. What a saint. It was so amazing to see their cute faces in the audience. It means a lot when people you know come to your concerts. 

I truly hope to someday be like my mom. There have been so many situations where I just thought about things she randomly told me over the years, but I remembered them, and they have always helped me through the good and the bad days. 

Alright, Dad. Fabio, Neilford.

My Dad is a pretty cool dude. As much flack as my siblings and myself all give him, he's a pretty cool dad. 

He's the main source of my sense of humor. My Dad was always a tease, but the good kind of tease. The kind that builds character, and gives your brain that witty kind of sarcasm that is just too funny. 

This guy would bend over backwards for anyone. Especially for a daughter struggling in school. I remember going to geometry in 9th grade, and the night before my dad had talked to me about talking to my teacher about something, I can't remember what. Math was always a struggle for me. Well, I went to talk to my teacher, and as I walked up to her, she informed me that my Dad had already been in to chat with her. 

My Dad is one of those cool guys who literally knows everyone. Every year in high school, without fail, I would have a slew of teachers on the first day as they were taking role stop and say, "Are you Neil Watson's daughter?!" After I answered they would just automatically put me in this crazy place in their brain. Like, the kind of circle that you would put Gandalf in just because he's Gandalf. He was just genuinely kind to everyone. 

Him and I might not have always seen eye to eye. My abstract brain was at times unfathomable to him, but that only became problematic when explaining math to me. Or explaining why my procrastinating tendencies were not good. But he taught me some of my greatest lessons, and was so passionate about things like the gospel. That's possibly where I find my passion. For a different subject matter, but the overzealousness is definitely there.

My Dad also took us traveling. Well, both of my parents did. But I am becoming more and more convinced that one of the greatest things my parents ever did for me was all of the traveling we did.

I have seen some amazing people and places, and now I have some of the greatest, craziest, and funniest stories to tell because of the wonderful adventures my parents took us on as kids. 

I am also convinced that it takes leaving your comfortable surroundings to begin to realize many things about yourself. It has been on these longs trips that I have found things about myself and realized things that I never would have realized otherwise. 

It taught me how to improvise in life. Plans often go wrong, or are changed, and because of a lot of the improvising we did on vacation, I am a master at this.

I also learned to embrace diversity. I often found myself in huge cities, and in the not-so-great parts of town. This helped me to embrace the diversity in the world, and put on a different lens, and begin to see people as they are, and learn to not judge them, but accept them. This is one of the most valuable things I have ever learned in my life. 

But most of all we learned how to adventure and how to have fun on these trips, and that is truly invaluable in my life. 

Yeah, of course I miss my family, but I also have a great family here in Logan who I miss when I go to see my real family. Either way I'm missing someone. 

But since I've left home, I've realized how lucky I was to get the parents that I did. Most of all, my parents are magnificent teachers. Both of them. I've often lamented the fact that I didn't have them as teachers more in church. Sometimes my Mom or Dad would substitute a class, and I would just think like, "why can't they just be my teacher?" Granted, I did live with them, but they weren't preparing lessons for me at home like that. But they also did. They taught by word, and also example, and often it was the little things that I remember and have stuck the most.

I love my dear parentals and all they did and have done for me. 

Oh, and I also have to thank them for the love of 80's music and other classics they gave me. 

The best is when you're talking to a cute guy with a great taste in music, and you can use your vast knowledge of obscure 80's music to impress him. Thanks Mom and Dad, you really nailed it on that one ;) 

But in all seriousness, I love them very much, and I truly appreciate, (especially now) the many many things they did for me. It has made all the difference, and hopefully I can get close to doing what they have done :)

On Being Homeless.

During the course of the summer, I befriended someone very amazing. I had actually known her since elementary school, but I began to actually talk with her, and some of the things she said changed my entire outlook on life.

One such concept has rung particularly true for me lately. She spoke of the fact that we were entering a point in our lives where we would become "homeless." Not in the way that we don't have a roof over our heads, but in the fact that we would be between places so much over the course of the next few years. 

My parents just recently built a new home. It is quite a lovely home, and a wonderful place to stay on the weekends. However, my brief time in this home rendered no emotional connection to the brick and mortar. I don't feel at home there. 

I will always love my family, but I do not belong there. I am in fact still searching for the place I truly "belong." But for this brief season, I belong here. 

My roommates are incredible people. My home is with these people. I miss them when I leave! I truly do. They are my mothers, and sisters, and my closest friends, and I know I can talk to them about anything and everything. We are there for each other, every day, and I dare say we would do anything for each other.

We are not mere roommates. We are each other's support system, confidantes, doctors, critics, and most of all friends. It's really amazing how much we do for each other, and how close we've grown.

We pick up random odds and ends for each other. Laugh at each other. Make fun of each other. Pick each other up when we're down. (Or stranded in the city...) It's just amazing. 

For now, this is my home. Right here. This is where I feel the most at home. With these magnificent people, who I can tell anything to, and do anything with. Even go to iHop at 3 in the morning with, or spend hours in a book store with, or just chat for hours in the car with. They are my girls :) And I can't imagine life without them. 

I am still a restless spirit, and long to travel. I will never be completely satisfied. The waves and trees of distant lands have been calling me in the middle of my long hours of practice....

Maybe here....

Or here....

This would do...

But that is all a completely different story.

For now I am here. And it is my home. I don't ever want to leave these people. They have welcomed me into their hearts as quickly as I have welcomed them into mine, and I honestly wouldn't trade them for the world.

How glad I am that I ended up with them, in this marvelous place. Because it wouldn't be home without them. And what magnificent people they are! I have watched time and time again as they have left kind notes for discouraged girls, and bought gifts for birthdays, made food for each other every sunday so we can sit down for at least one "family meal," and just lend an ear anytime one was needed. 

Surely our Heavenly Father works in marvelous ways, and I dare say the first is through people like this. 

My parents may worry about my whereabouts while I am here, but little do they know, that I have roommates who do that for them, and who take care of each other as if they were blood kin. It's marvelous, and I owe them my own life. 

I cannot wait for our adventures in the future. The good and the bad. I love these people with all my heart, and with them, I am home.

Once, I was a great cellist.

I was once a Great Cellist. What seams a very long time ago.

I could play anything and everything. I was a major soloist, and first chair in my orchestra for nearly 5 consecutive years. I was absolutely unstoppable.

I could play that thing like no one else. My life went to the cello. On weekends all I did was sit on YouTube and watch fellow cellists I aspired to become.

Man, I played the heck out of that thing. Every piece, every measure, every note, was not a challenge, but a new friend. A new play date, of sorts. It was never difficult, it was what I did. No questions asked. People would ask me how long I practiced, and I would give rough estimates to their immensely surprised faces. But it was never long enough for me. Never good enough. When I played my cello, time stood still, and my time was no longer measured in seconds and minutes, but in beats, and in 4/4 or 3/4, or 6/8. I played my cello for 1000 measures, not 60 minutes. 

I was absolutely unstoppable. Everything I did was perfect, every piece I played a masterpiece. 

Well, as the story usually goes, I was a little girl chasing a dream. A dream which always seemed quite impossible. But that didn't bother me. So, I lived my days as THE Cellist. The girl who's name actually became "Jessica 'That Cool Girl who Plays the Cello' Watson". That was me. I answered to "cello" more than my own name. 

I. Was. Awesome.

I soloed my heart out. I received nothing less than the highest ratings in every solo festival I participated in. I received soloist awards over saxophonists and trumpeters from California, and Colorado. I was chosen for Solos, and I rocked the stage. 

Once, I was a great Cellist.

Then, suddenly, I went to college. 

In one day I went from 1st chair to about 7th. 

I went from playing like a virtuoso, to playing nothing but Scales for 3 weeks straight. I was reintroduced to the cello, and made privy to the fact that I knew little about this piece of wood I carried around everywhere. 

I went from center stage to the back of the section. I relearned everything. I started at the bottom, and I'm still climbing up.

Once, I was a great Cellist. 

But I gave that up. 

I gave it up to become a greater cellist. I let my professors see my imperfections. I let myself go back to the beginning, and fall to the bottom. In order to form a more perfect technique, and a greater cellist.

I'm still "That cool girl who plays the cello." 

And I still practice. A lot. I should be practicing about 24 hours a week. I'm not quite there, but I'm working my way to it. 

I've only just started this journey. I'm still at the bottom looking up at the stars, but I already sound better than I ever did. And I'm willing to work, and keep working. I'm not afraid. It's not a challenge. It's just a change that I'm getting used to. And I'm loving every minute. Even those minutes when I'm so frustrated I can't even think straight. This incredible journey I'm on is only warming up. The refiner's fire is an intense one.

But then again, I always was too stubborn to quit ;) 

Oh yeah, I remember why I was crazy enough to do this.

Well, the last little bit has been absolutely ludicrous. However, I have finally begun to be okay with this "music major" status that I wear.

You know, at first 13ish hour days at the school are extremely rough. But at some point, you begin to realize that you really can live off of a solid diet of granola bars and music for quite some time. Okay, so I come home for soup, but some days, that is not a far cry from my diet. 

The beginning of this week was exceptionally tough. I was about ready to quit. Luckily I have great roommates and neighbors who, through small things kept me going, however, I finally realized some things. 

First of all, I'm a freshman, and have a lot of growing to do. Second, I remembered WHY I embarked on this crazy adventure.

I went to a meeting with all of the music education majors this week. In that meeting, The head of the Caine College of the Arts spoke to us, and my brain went, "oh yeah, there's a reason I'm this crazy." Here is a bit of what he said.

"There's a few things I'm against. First, DOWN WITH STEM!!! (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics.) And quit believing all of that crap about how they are going to save the world. America is ranked 24th in the world with our education system. We come in behind freaking Canada. You don't even know where Canada is. It all happened with Proposition 13 when they started taking music out of schools in the sixties. Now look at us! Behind Canada. Second, I'm against teaching "Music Appreciation." We don't teach "Math Appreciation," we teach Math. We don't teach "Science Appreciation," We teach Science. I don't want you to "appreciate" Music, I want you to DO it. I don't want theses kids to "appreciate" Music, I want them to DO it. Music will be the thing that saves the world. I need you to believe that, or go study something easy, like being a doctor.... or a drummer."

Amidst my lengthy practice sessions, and strenuous schedule, I had forgotten this. I had forgotten my goal, that golden image I've been working towards for years, and will continue to do so. 

I forgot that behind my own crazy music obsession are about a dozen wonderful teachers who went through this exact same agony, and probably thought some of the same things. I owe everything I know to their perseverance. I owe them everything I know and have. And I owe it to a handful of hopeful kids someday to trudge through all of this madness. I wouldn't be who I am today without teachers who did the same.

Towards the end, Dr. Bankhead said something else,

"You aren't 9 to 5 kind of guys. No, you guys are work until you get it done no matter how long it takes kind of guys. You are some of the craziest people I know. You have a sense of humor that I have never seen anywhere else, and that I love. As a dean, I have an opportunity to make my own schedule and decide what I teach. I tried teaching non music majors once. It was the worst decision I ever made. You people are my favorite, and you are the future of music. You are what will save the world."

Suddenly, my 13 hour days didn't seem so bad. Because, there was once a little girl, In a 7th grade orchestra class who saw college students perform, and her heart ached because she wanted so badly to play as well as them, but knew that something like that was never possible. But, being the optimist she was, her little heart held onto that dream.

Now, call her crazy, but she's still holding onto that dream and trying to discover if it's possible. And if you asked her, she would tell you it was impossibly difficult, but that she's always been a fan of proving people wrong, Crazy or not, here she comes. 

It's been an amazing adventure, and it is only just beginning. So, forward my mail to the land of "celloing my face off," and maybe send any extra food my way. 

Because we all know I can't really live on granola bars and music for that long...

Surviving, and Trying to Live a little.

Sorry, I'm not one of those party college kids. Well, maybe a little ;)

This is my third week in this giant world of education, and things are coming along.

I haven't failed anything yet, In fact I've gotten mostly 100% on my assignments.

My professors are all very nice, and great to work with, and I've already met many great friends which usually end up at my apartment on any given night.

Yesterday was a bit difficult. I'm getting to that point where I'm not a "new" freshman anymore, so I actually have to do my assignments and be on top of things. I can't just use the, "I didn't know" excuse anymore. I just had one of those days. One of those days where you get down, and hard on yourself, and lots of things go wrong, and you're just hungry. So I came home from this realization, and pretty much just crashed on my couch. My splitting head ache didn't help matters. 

Anyway, it was a bit of a rough day, but luckily, my wonderful roommates and neighbors helped my day end much better.

These wonderful ladies are a magnificent group of people. They helped me forget my troubles even if  it was for just a minute. After my nap, we went to get tickets for this saturday's football game, and topped it off with Aggie Ice Cream. They are some of the most fun, and yet intelligent people to hold conversations with, and I'm so lucky to be sharing living space with them. I love them to death!

I was still kind of down and having that really bad, rough day when the Ice Cream run was suggested, but I went, and these ladies changed my day for the better just like they always do :) 

Later, my neighbor invited us over for some Mario Cart action, which I'm a bit rusty at.... And Another guy from my ward came over later that night, and just chilled. All of these people, due to the small, insignificant things they do, make life up here worth living. And worth more than just existing for. When you spend 13 hours a day at school, it's easy to feel completely depleted and like you have absolutely no social life, but these guys make sure that there is never a dull moment in our apartment.

So, it was one of those days. 

But it was one of those days, where yeah, I was down, but sometimes you have to get down in order to find something, and It is helping me find how to be even better at this whole college thing. 

And I am getting better every day. Today, I've been a good girl, and haven't even skipped any practice sessions. Not even the one at 7:30 in the morning. I'm playing much better than I ever have, yet at the same time, I can hear how much farther I have to go, and I assure you, it is far. I have so much music to practice, there is literally not enough time in the day to complete all of it. But, I'm certainly trying my best.

So, I'm learning. I'm learning new things about the world, and most importantly about myself.

Something I tell myself every day, as I get up earlier, and get home later than most of my roommates. It can get rough up here. But I just have to keep telling myself why I'm here. WHY I'm doing this, and WHY people look at me and call me crazy. Because music is what I love, and I am the musician I am today because several people went through this very same thing a long time ago. 

I owe it to those kids in the future who will just thirst to be better at what they do. I don't care if all of my students in the future pursue music. Most of them will probably not. But I owe it to them to inspire them to live for the dreams they create. Not just let them exist while they sleep. I'm not just in this for music. (Though, I do adore it.) I'm in it to prove something to myself, and many, many people.

I'm in it to prove that I can do hard things, that I can live on my own. No, not just exist on my own, But LIVE on my own, and spread beautiful things in the little sphere in which I live. I'm in it to prove that dreams are never easy, but always worth it. And I'm in it to prove to myself who I really am. 

So, hard days will come and go, but I'm in this for the long run. Not just to go to a few parties and become a true aggie ;)