Welcome, Welcome 2011!

My mom and I being wild and crazy at temple square on New Years Eve

I'm excited for 2011 to come.

2010 was a hard year.

In fact it was a hard-knock-life year.

But I'm ready to say "toodle-loo!" to 2010 and "Hellooo 2011!"

To keep myself motivated and convinced that this year is going to be amazing I've come up with 11 goals for 2011.

1. Get my financial ducks in a row. budget, budget, budget!

2. Do yoga at least 3 times a week.

3. Graduate with my Bachelors.

4. Take a long walk with my soon-to-be-home Elder Ace.

5. Travel somewhere I've never been before.

6. Cook something new once a week.

7. Find a big people job.

8. Get my big-top-secret project under way.

9. Eat my veggies.

10. Let my broken heart be the past. For reals.

11. Snag me some man candy...kidding! Meet a new friend everyday.

Dear Sir,

You have my permission to dedicate this song to me.

Love,

Your Sabrina Danielle

The Chocoholic

In the past month I haven't had a moment to even sit down unless it was to work on homework, or anything work related.

I came home about a week ago and even since I've been home I haven't had very much "down" time.

Yesterday I had this insanely wonderful idea.

I decided that I wanted to be the official Christmas Candy maker.

I began the process of melting my body weight in chocolate.

I made some homemade peanut butter cups which turned out lovely in a very vernacular kind of way, so I decided to try my hand at Peppermint Bark.

Then I realized I needed more chocolate.

I headed off to the grocery store because by this point I had become a crazed chocoholic and I needed more.

When I was walking into the store I wasn't really paying attention because my brain was buzzing with chocolate ideas and suddenly my life was flashing before my eyes because I walked through a bathtub of a puddle in the entrance of the store.

I'm sure if I had been paying attention I wouldn't have made half as much of a fool of myself.

But alas, it was not so.

I simply skated through the puddle as if I meant to do it.

Trust me, I didn't.

And then I proceeded to laugh the entire time I was in the store.

I blame the chocolate.

xo

P.s. For your chocolate fix I've added both the Peppermint Bark and Peanut Butter Cup recipes

Homemade Peanut Butter Cups

2 11-oz bags of dark chocolate (You can use whatever your heart desires, but I am a dark chocolate junkie)

1 cup peanut butter

48 tiny muffin cup

1. Melt one bag of the chocolate and spoon into the muffin cups. Let set in fridge for about 1 hour.

2. Spoon little dollops of peanut butter on top of each cup.

3. Melt the second bag of chocolate and then cover peanut butter.

4. Set in fridge for another hour

5. Enjoy!

Peppermint Bark

4 11-oz bags of dark chocolate

2 11-oz bags of white chocolate

12 Candy Canes

1 tsp peppermint extract

1.line an 11-by-17-inch baking sheet with parchment, and set aside.

2. In the top of a double boiler, melt dark chocolate, stirring constantly.

3. pour into the prepared pan and let set in the fridge for about one hour.

4. With a chef’s knife or meat tenderizer, pound candy canes into 1/4-inch pieces.

5.In the top of a double boiler, melt white chocolate, stirring constantly.

Stir pieces of candy canes and peppermint oil into the melted chocolate.

Remove from heat, and pour quickly(dark chocolate will melt) over the chilled dark chocolate; spread evenly. Chill until firm.

Break into pieces, and serve. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Memory Box

disregard the fact that I look horrible in this picture

I've been home for the past few days.

It's been so very good for me.

My heart needed a place to begin to repair itself.

I've been feeling weathered and worn.

Now I feel slightly less so.

Today I was reorganizing my old room in my parent's house.

I came across letters, yearbooks, notebooks, English papers, trinkets, jewelry, and all kinds of lovely little pieces of me.

Part of me felt strange.

Like I was going through someone else's memories.

And then I found a silly short story that Ace and I wrote together so many years ago...

And I remembered who I was.

Remembering who I had been before life got hard and big decisions had to be made, made me want to sit there and hold that paper so tightly.

I'm not sure why.

Other than that maybe for a second I needed to remind myself that though I've come a long way I still have miles to go.

xo

Oh, David, you slay me.

On Mondays and Wednesday I have Intro to Interiors from 8 am until 9:15 am.

At 9:30 I have History of Design and Architecture.

Both classes are taught by the same Professor.

My professor is completely brilliant and about as chipper as a Professor Snape from Harry Potter.

He has a talent for talking in a monotone voice while he spits off facts about design and all of the while remains unconcerned about the comatose students on the front row.

That's why when he has a moment like he had today I feel the need to document it....for his legacy.

We've been studying English Barque design and today we started Early Georgian.

Early Georgian is the first time in the history of design when furniture pieces are named after the designer and not the monarch.

Today Dr. T introduced the most influential English Furniture designer during the Early Georgian Era.

"It is Thomas (pause) Chippendale. Not. Chip and Dale. And not the Strippers."

Of course I was the only one who laughed out loud.

A mark of my maturity.

xo

P.s. I really love Dr. T's class and not just because he says racy things. But mostly because of that.

Dear Sir,

This morning I:

poured orange juice on my cereal,

tried to drown out the opera singing next door with hymns,

strained my brain for creativity,

and instead couldn't stop thinking about an epiphany I had last night.

Which is this, my love, the process of finding you has/and will be a long one because you are the only one who can complete me.

I think in heaven I promised you my heart and I think you promised me yours.

We probably even pinkie promised that we would find each other.

And I know when we find each other the impression you left on my soul will be filled again.

with love,

your Sabrina Danielle

All That Jazz

me and my daddy at a Jazz game in 2009

I am the poster child for a sports dimwit.

If I see a ball flying near or towards my head my immediate reaction is to run.

Not catch.

Run.

I couldn't tell you how football works or even how many inning are in a baseball game.

I think that's why it was a shock to my roommates when they found me on the couch watching a Jazz game.

Gigi: "You're watching basketball?"

Me: "Not just basketball. It's Jerry and my boys."

I have to admit initially I didn't love Jerry, the boys, or the game.

But I did love my dad.

My dad is the Jazz fan.

And no fair weather fan at that.

He's always been a Jazz man.

I remember in middle school I would moan and groan when I would hear the too familiar voice of Hot Rod Hundley.

But then I would see my dad getting ready to coach the boys from our green couch.

And then I would sit next to him and the rhythm of the game would lure me in.

By the time I was in high school I was planning my nights around the games.

I would stay at home just to sit on that green couch and watch the game with my dad.

Some nights were victorious, others ended is embarrassing defeat.

Game after game, season after season.

Last season before I moved away I remember a pit in my stomach as each game ended.

Nothing would be as perfect as sitting on that green couch with my dad.

Tonight when I heard the voice of Craig Bolerjack and watched Jerry stalk onto the court in his usual slump I nearly teared up.

It's not just basketball...it's a little piece of home.

xo

Wrong Feet

I knew it was going to be a great day when I almost walked out of my

house with my shoes on the wrong feet.

xo

P.s. Today is the first official Snow Day in Happy Valley!

Weekly Dating Quiz

I'm sure I'm not entirely unique in being quizzed each week on my nonexistent dating life.

However, when there is indeed someone worth mentioning I like to make the process as painful as possible.

Mom: Have you meant anyone in your ward? alluding to the male race, of course.

Me: Yes. I met a boy named XXXXXX.

Mom: Oh really?! Is he nice?

Me: No. He's the meanest person I've ever met.

Mom: Is he cute? disregarding my comment.

Me: No. He's ugly and has warts.

Mom: You're mean.

xo

p.s. for the record: he's not so ugly.

Early Weekend

Today Provo feels small and in a way claustrophobic.

So, I decided I'm going to click my ruby heels together and make my way home tonight.

I hope you have a lovely weekend.

xo

P.s. “Home is a place you grow up wanting to leave, and grow old wanting to get back to” - John Ed Pearce

Pardon Me.

When I started blogging my intent was to give myself a corner of the world to air out my thoughts.

Initially, this worked well.

Until worry and concern crept into my mind.

As humans, we try to do everything in our power to make ourselves less vulnerable.

But living with worry always makes me tired and eventually my proverbial legs give out and I decide to let myself be human.

Not necessarily vulnerable, but human.

This takes faith.

Leaps of it.

Even buckets of it.

Somewhere between elementary and middle school I stopped trusting in my ability to be me.

I was recently told that my natural air-dried curl made me more human.

I want to implement more me into me.

Does that make sense?

I'm striving to be the person my Father in Heaven intended for me to be.

Not the person I wish I could be. Or think I should be.

But me.

Just me.

xo

Today I:

(The lovely Sienna Valley)

Slept in.

Drank a hot cup of tea.

Did homework.

Dreamt about the Sienna Valley.

Made a big pot of soup for my roommates.

Bought a can of pumpkin puree.

Bundled up.

Wore my black and white houndstooth jacket that makes me feel French.

Fell in love with my curly hair.

Wanted to kidnap the sweetest little baby at the grocery store.

Finished my laundry.

Wished I had eaten lunch.

Decided "it's not the end of the world".

Carbo-loaded. I'm not even running a race.

Decided that I'm so glad to be one day closer to the weekend.

xo

Obsessed.

Is it just me or does this song depict a hopeless romantic?

Either way I'm in love.

xo

P.s. They sound just as good live.

Riddle Me This...

Last week a lady came into the office where I work wearing a beanie, a long sleeved shirt, a puffy vest, capris, and flip flops.

Was she going to the beach later? Or maybe cross country skiing?

One can only wonder.

Then yesterday morning while I was making my trek to Intro to Design I saw a man on campus wearing a black short sleeved shirt, black shorts, black flip flops, and black and gray striped mittens.

At least he had the decency to be consistent with color.

There is a strange fashion phenomenon taking over Utah County.

Tomorrow I'm planning on wearing my swimming suit, ski parka, and rain boots.

xo

Snuggled.

Tonight I am feeling...yucky.

I'm sure it's a combination of not enough sleep and too much to do. pray it's not the flu.

Right now I'm snuggled in my favorite quilt dreaming of home and plans.

My brain is a cluttered mess of incomplete thoughts, but one.

I'm so grateful.

For everything.

I have everything.

What a beautiful thought.

Thank you friends, for letting me have this little corner of the world where I can share my thoughts, the beautiful and otherwise.

xo

Legs

On the south side of campus is a very long set of stairs and a long trail that leads up to campus.

I always opt for the stairs.

I call them "The Steps of Shame."

I walk up these stairs: Every. Day.

And every day I take my two little legs and I try to tromp as quickly as I can up this vicious flight of stairs.

And every day a different person passes me by taking two to three steps at a time.

It's as if they see me struggling to make it up one step at a time and they say "GO GO GADGET LEGS!" And then they shmooze past me like a mountain goat.

Sometimes I want to yell "Unimpressed!"

But that would be a lie. against honor code.

I'm quite impressed with these Inspector Gadget meets Centaur BYU students.

But not as impressed as they'll be when I zip past them on the trail on one of these.

xo

Sometimes....

I wonder why I'm in Provo.

I wish I was two inches taller.

I pretend like my middle is spelled "Danielle" and not "Daniele".

I want to pack up my belongings and move to the beach.

I wonder how much longer I'll have to be patient for this shows how little patience I have.

I just need a hug.

I swear.

I say I'm going to eat one cookie, and then I multiply it by 6.

I forget how blessed I am.

I miss my mom and dad so much I think about hopping in my car and driving home.

I'm selfish.

I sing really loud and off key.

I wish I could take away pain from the people I love.

I break my promises.

I do really stupid things like burn my knee on my curling iron.

I cry for people I don't really even know.

I dream too much.

I want Ace to come home already.

I procrastinate.

I wish I could play an instrument and not make people's ears bleed.

I miss my sisters so much it hurts.

Sometimes I laugh and can't explain why.

And every now and then I remember that I am a child of God, which is more than enough to make up for what I myself am not.

xo

Home Sweet Home

This semester I'm taking a class called "Housing the Family".

I think it should be called dream-on-cause-you-aint-evah-gonna-own-a-house.

I also think my Prof.'s motto is "I pity da fool who thinks they're gonna own one." because she's a tall ex-wrestler with sweet style and a mohawk. Our first assignment consisted of finding a "starter home" on a recent college grads budget (about 30,000-70,000 bones a year).

I was pleased to find out once I graduate from school I will be able to afford a microwave box and a spot under the local highway overpass.

The deeper I get into this class the more I'm impressed by people who

A) own a home

B) are still making payments on a home

C) can sleep at night knowing they're paying for a home

If you are in any of the above categories, you are my hero.

xo

Friday Favorites!!

Hello again friends!!

Its Jaclyn. Sorry that I went missing.

Here are some Friday favorites:

Burt's Bees Honey and Bilberry Foot Creme

A hint of honey is a great substitute to the normal peppermint found in foot cremes. This smells a little too good and you may want to lick your feet. Don't.

I unfortunately live in a place where the high today was 95 degrees and mixed with 100% humidity and you have got one hot, sweaty day.

So due to living in such a sweaty place. I have found Fruit Chillers, if you have not tried these yet you should. Usually they are next to the canned fruit

Grape is my favorite.

Ah, Shabby Apple. Need I say more?

Too bad I won't be able to wear this for another 6 months.

And this girl.....

HAPPY BIRFHDAY (thats how they say it here,no joke) to my Smeena!!

I love your guts and will eat a cupcake in your honor they just opened a shop right next to my house, yikes!

Your beauty, wisdom and humor astonish me!

Love. Love. Hug. Hug.

p.s. I ordered you a pandora bracelet. Don't be mad. hehe

Nutella Pancakes

Tonight I made Nutella Pancakes for dinner.

During the process of pouring, mixing, and flipping my mind wandered to last semester.

For me last semester meant change.

I moved out of my parents house.

I left the beautiful warmth of Southern Utah.

I started going to a new school.

I switched majors.

I grew my bangs out. a smallish sort of change. but change nevertheless.

Change was an everyday occurrence.

My biggest attempt at change was dating someone I mostly liked, but never could've loved, in hopes of forgetting a certain someone.

I found out that the heart is a very stubborn sort of organ.

Not keen on change.

My heart kindly told my brain, "No thank you. Not him."

And my brain said, "Please? I need change."

And then my heart and my head stopped speaking for a while.

Guess what? you- what?

Ultimately my heart won the battle.

I had to tell the boy "later gator" and as you can imagine he wasn't happy.

Because even though I wanted to change my heart I couldn't.

Not even for him.

Not even for me.

While I was washing the dishes tonight I decided that the theme for this semester is going to be patience.

Patience with:

myself.

my family.

change.

my heart.

time.

things I can't control.

And that's why this scripture (Alma 7:23) is my mantra for the semester.

"And now I would that ye should be humble, and be submissive and gentle; easy to be entreated; full of patience and long-suffering; being temperate in all things; being diligent in keeping the commandments of God at all times; asking for whatsoever things ye stand in need, both spiritual and temporal; always returning thanks unto God for whatsoever things ye do receive."

Patience, darlings.

xo

She & Him + Happy Last Weekend Before School Starts

Last night I went to the free She & Him concert at Pioneer Park in SLC.

I love Zooey. Oh and the Him, too.

Limney, JC, and a very tired Me.

My brother Iz.

Iker being so studious. he couldn't stop reading "the worst book everrrr!"

My friends Shirty and Cute shoes. i wish i could remember their names. Worst friend everrr!

Stuck in an UBER sweaty/stinky crowd. can you see the bookworm in the back?

Not even a sweaty crowd could pull Iker's eyes from the pages of his book.

Me, Iks, and our friend Jess hanging out in the back.

Note: I was too busy singing and dancing and being short to get a good picture of the stage.

Have a good weekend!

xo

P.s. get your pencils sharpened! Schools starts on Monday for the Y.

College Advice

This post is for my very favorite Mary Dawn.

I found this advice on Oh Joy before I moved to BYU.

I think it's great advice.

1. Don't kiss lame boys even if they are a little cute. You'll regret it later.
2. Fall in love with someone new every single day. Crushes are new and exciting.
3. Don't sign up for credit cards or give personal information to anyone who wants it. It's not worth that free t-shirt or king sized Snickers bar they are offering.
4. If your friend dates a boy you hate, stay out of it.
5. Go to all the free lectures and activities they offer, even if you are busy and tired.
6. Throw lots of themed parties: Pink Party, Hair Party, Middle School Party.
7. Don't move home for the summer. You think it is a good idea because you miss it but after two weeks it will just be really depressing. Instead do an internship somewhere fun or get a job in an exotic locale.
8. Take art classes even if you aren't an art major. (This one might be me projecting my own regret.)
9. Don't get your hair done by the local hair school students. It will always end bad.
10. Make cookies every Sunday and take them to friends and cute boys. Do this especially when you get depressed or sad.
11. If you can't get in a class you want because it is full--don't take no for an answer.
12. Join clubs and maybe start one yourself.
13. If you get a job in college don't work too much. They are only paying you minimum wage. In five years you'll make quadruple that and your time in college is precious. Better to spend your time studying or working for free somewhere cool or doing an internship to further your career.
14. Go camping a lot and go on lots of road trips.
15. Find the girls that dress cool, make friends with them and ask them to help dress you. (speaking from experience here)
16. If it rains go dance in it.
17. Don't park illegally even for a minute. College campuses are crawling with meter maids who WILL GET YOU.
18. Get a Vespa.
19. Never schedule a class before 10am. Don't do that to yourself.
20. Watch lots of foreign films and go to lots of concerts even if you don't have the money. That is what college is for.

And for my own advice.

21. You're not the first Freshman who has felt overwhelmed. This too, my dear, shall pass.

22. If you need ANYTHING at ANYTIME of the day or night call me.

23. You're not going to get D's in all of your classes.

24. Zumba solves all of life's problems. Let's find a good class.

25. I'm soooo glad you live in Provo now.

xo

Thoughts on Oatmeal and French Pastries

When I was in middle school I read a book about a girl who lived with her grandmother because her mom was in Hollywood chasing a dream.

At one point in the book she bought a ticket to Hollywood to visit her mom.

While she was there she realized that though by birth this woman was technically her mom, she was not in fact her mother.

During this realization she compared her mom to a french pastry and her grandma to oatmeal.

Though a French pastry is enticing, lovely and practically sinful it doesn't hold a candle to the wholesomeness and sustainability that is oatmeal.

I've been thinking about my relationships.

With friends, family, and others.

It's made me wonder do I have French pastry relationships or oatmeal relationships?

I want oatmeal.

xo

Spark...or a lack thereof

Last night I had my first Spark experience.

If you live in the Provo/Orem area and haven't made your way there

I have one question:

What are you waiting for?

As soon as we walked in I was giddy with excitement.

We were no longer in downtown Provo.

No, no, no.

We were in Manhattan, London, Paris.

Provo was just a memory.

With our Shirley Temples ordered from their completely non-alcoholic menu we chatted and giggled.

Mid-giggle the door opened and in walked a very unusual fellow.

He beelined toward us and then quickly changed his path to a settee just in front of our booth.

The waitress brought us three red bubbly glasses bedecked by a cotton candy flourishperfection,

I guess by this point the suspense was too much for him because he tried to saunter to us in a very James Bond kind of way.

I stuffed cotton candy in my mouth to keep myself from laughing.

I can't remember his opening line because I was busying myself with trying to keep my mouth shut.

I'm sure it was something suave.

He asked us what we would recommend.

It was a good thing it was my first time, because I felt I was off the hook from being a part of that conversation.

But then he sat down and turned our Night on the Town into some kind of a job interview.

"Where are you from?"

"What do you like to do?"

"Tell me what is your gwam?" okay, he didn't ask that. but he may as well have.

During the question answer portion of the night he would intermittently say our names is a very robocop manner.

"Sydney*. Annalisa. Uh, Sabrina." note. I was easily forgotten. could it be because I was stuffing my face with cotton candy?

Finally, he decided to bid us Adieu, but not without repeating our names one last time.

I guess from now on I'll actually have to get out of Provo to really get out of Provo.

xo

*Post Edit: I accidentally spelled Sydney's name Sidney. Until she reminded me in the comments section. Such a brat. Oh Limney, you know I love your guts.

Dear Jaclyn,

we have been playing phone tag since Wednesday.

I think we should stop.

I have things to tell you.

love,

your little seester

p.s. your voicemail is not set up. I for one think you should change that asap.

Are you dazzled by our maturity?

The Bookshelf Epiphany

(The Audrey Hepburn Complex)

Sometimes I like to use my blog as a Freudian couch. Hence, yesterdays post.

Last night after I posted my Perfume Allegory I was organizing my bookshelf.

Through the process of shelving and dusting I came upon a second realization about my fears/disinterest in dating.

I cannot stand chaos.

When I'm in/surrounded by chaos I become every adjective a human would not want to be described as.

I'm easily irritated, agitated, snarky, inflexible, etc.

In short, I'm the worst.

I avoid dating because I'm trying to avoid chaos.

"Does he like me?"

"Do I like him?"

"Does he like like me?"

"Why do I say the word 'like' so much?"

"Why didn't he call?"

"Do I send a 'Thank you' text after a date?"

"What do I do when he walks me to the door?"

And the infamous "What do I wear?"

Put simply, chaos.

Last semester I took a Kundalini Yoga class and one of my favorite mantras I learned was

Let go, let God.

All that it really means is to let go of whatever fear you have, give it to God, and in the process give yourself to God.

With my books in neat rows nestled on their shelves by height, I let this concept of letting go wash over me.

Before I turned out my light for bed I took a tall book and placed it next to the small books.

Baby steps, friends.

Wish me luck.

xo

The Allegory of the Perfume

A couple of days ago I was shocked to realize my favorite perfume is very nearly empty.

Generally, for a girl, the realization that they need to buy something as elaborate as perfume is exciting.

For me it's terrifying.

Especially, because I never buy the same perfume twice.

I'm always afraid I'm going to get stuck with a $60 bottle of mothball eau de toilette.

I don't trust my own judgement when it comes to perfume buying.

I would dare say I have commitment issues.

The past two bottles I have had, I've received as gifts, no thought on my part.

I loved both to the point of their extinction.

I told my mom about the last precious drops of my favorite perfume the last time we were in a mall, so she shuffled me to a perfume counter.

I sniffed perfumes that were fruity, floraly not a real word, musky, fresh, etc.

But nothing smelled right.

It was somewhere between the Vera Wang Princess and Lola by Marc Jacobs that I realized my feelings about buying perfume aren't too different from my feelings about dating.

Nothing ever smells/feels right because I don't trust my own judgement.

I thought about this through the spritzing of Coco by Chanel and then I saw it.

I knew just from the bottle that it was my perfume.

I spritzed a little on my wrist and it was love at first smell.

Amber and fruit nearly knocked me to the floor.

Now all I need is to find a man who will sweep me off my feet and I'll be set.

xo

Dear Sir,

If I could one message into the universe in hopes that it would find you

it would sound a lot like this.

Your very own,

Sabrina Danielle

Back-to-school supplies

On Thursday I went to Target to pick up a few things for an impromptu Moab trip.

I was walking past the greeting card section when something caught my eye.

Just the next aisle over back-to-school supplies beckoned me from the shelves.

Backpacks, markers, pencil boxes, lunch pails, book covers, notebooks as far as the aisle extended.

A mixture of giddiness and impulsiveness crept over me.

Back-to-school means Fall.

I stood between the camping supplies and the school supplies toying with the idea of walking out of Target with a bag full of new school supplies, instead of a bag for sleeping.

Luckily, a force more powerful than the draw of scented markers reminded me that buying school supplies would mean a very cold camping trip.

Needless to say, I'll be back August 31st for the Little Mermaid lunch pail.

xo

Writer's Block

My brain has been a jumbled mess of incomplete thoughts lately.

I've tried writing.

But nothing feels right.

I think I need an adventure.

Cross your fingers that I find my muse again.

xo