It's Happening

(LONG POST ALERT)

Euphoric, intoxicatingly blissful, ecstatic—that’s how I would describe the aura of my thoughts over the past few days. So much has happened. Immeasurable grief has been taken off my plate, all the while oddly weightless blessings have been placed in its stead.

I find I keep whispering to myself, ‘It’s finally happening. It’s finally happening.’

And it is.

I have been waiting for about two months to get my track assignment. A track assignment is one of those things that makes BYU-I so . . . unique? (Unique is a code word for frustrating and irritating, just so you know.) Most colleges let you pick when you want to start, whereas BYU-I tells you. They have this three-track system that no other college has. (Fall semester: Sept-Dec. Winter semester: Jan-April. Spring semester: April-July.) It’s how they are able to admit billions and billions of students. Some students are assigned the Fall/Winter track, some students are assigned the Winter/Spring track, some are assigned the Fall/Spring track, etc.

 

Anyways, because of the track assignment process, there was so much room for my plans to go awry. Remember, I have three best friends wanting to go to BYU-I with me, and we’ve been planning to live in the same dorm. If we each got a different track assignment . . . that would literally ruin everything. This isn’t your typical teenage girl whining here, where literally everything is ‘the worst thing in the world.’ This is actual I-think-my-life-is-over stuff we’re talking about.

Here were the possible scenarios:

What if my friends all got the same track and I was the one left behind? What if I didn’t get to start until 2017 and they went off without me? Or what if I’m the only one who leaves home and I have to learn everything on my own? What if Corynne, my best friend and future roommate, went without me or vice versa?

But, thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

 

The track assignments all flooded in on Friday night, February 26th, 2016. It was very sudden, even though we had all been religiously checking our emails for months. I guess we just got used to the empty inbox. 

 

I got a text from Julie, one of my friends that is attending BYU-I with me. She said, "I got my track, check yours!" As you can imagine, I started to panic. I wasn't ready emotionally (but at the same time, of course I was). I knew my track assignment would either be good news or bad news--nothing in between. Mainly I just wanted to leave in the fall and be with my friends. I would die if I left in 2017, a whole year away. With or without my friends, the winter 2017 track was a death sentence.

 

And so I checked . . . and nothing. I had a very empty, very lonely inbox. Again. I was exasperated and relieved all at the same time.

 

But still, I called Corynne and told her to check her email just in case. She did and said she saw nothing. And so we relaxed. They had done this with our acceptance letters too, emailed them to each person at different times.

 

My friend Brianna, the fourth friend in our group, then texted me and asked if I'd gotten my track, as Julie had. I sighed and let her know that I hadn't. She said she didn't have hers either. But then she checked her email once more and texted me, "Spring/Fall." (!!!!!!)

 

This is when the frenzy started. It took me a moment, but finally I realized that there was a chance the track assignments were all being emailed tonight and that I just had to keep checking. At this point, I kind of already knew it would be there, and when I checked my email . . . it was. Finally.

 

I yelled out to my family, "Guys! Guys! I have my track assignment! Oh my GOSH!!" (!!!!!!!!!!!!!) I was exploding with every emotion a person can feel. I was terrified. I was prayerful. I was hopeful. I was vaguely nauseous. At this point, my mother and sisters gathered in the computer room and we opened it together, as a family. My dad was even on speaker phone from work.

 

I really was about to cry. If I didn't read "fall semester" anywhere in the email, I was going to break down into these-are-not-happy-tears tears. Call me a brat, but I really don't think I would have handled it well had it not worked out as planned.

 

"Dear Sarah, Congratulations! You have been accepted to the Spring/Fall track at Brigham Young University-Idaho beginning Fall 2016."

 

Oh, how sweet it was to read those words. A weight I'd carried for so long was taken off me. No offense to my parents and family, but when you get hit with that urge to just go off and start your life already, you don't want to be held back any longer than you need to be. You just want to go. You want to take what you've been taught all your life and really fly.

 

And those words confirmed to me that it was really going to happen. And I was going with Brianna, too! I could barely contain myself.

 

But then I remembered about my other friend Corynne. What about her? I immediately texted her.

"I GOT THE SPRING FALL TRACK! Corynne, the tracks really are in tonight!! Keep checking!!" She responded with a quick "ok," and then, within five minutes she responded, "HELL YES!!!! I GOT THE SPRING/FALL TRACK!!!!"

 

And then my heart was really, truly full. Not only was I going to BYU-I in the fall like I wanted, but I was going to be rooming with my best friend of six years and my newer yet just as good friend Brianna! (Earlier when I said Julie got her track, she revealed to me that she had the winter/spring 2017 track. Obviously, not everything went according to plan, but we know that our tracks were prayerfully assigned and that we just need to have faith that this is how it should be.)

 

The next morning, Corynne, Brianna, and I selected our apartment and made sure our rooms are right next to each other.

 

It's finally happening now. Really. I'm trying to stay in the moment and enjoy my life right now . . . but how can I be calm and sit still when I have this to look forward to?! When my life is changing in the most beautiful of ways?

 

In-Between

It’s funny how, when I was five years old, I felt perfectly and solidly five. No longer four, no longer a nonsensical preschooler. And when I was eight, I felt perfectly and solidly eight. No longer seven, no longer unable to ride a bike without training wheels. I didn’t hold on to previous years, I didn’t feel as though no time had gone by—I simply looked forward and let the winds of time take me away.

But now, even though I am almost eighteen, months away from being a certifiable adult and living on my own, I can’t help but say that I still feel like a child for the most part. Who in their right mind would let me—a child—vote? Who would let me check out groceries at the store? Who would accept any taxes from me? How can I possibly be considered an adult?

You get so used to being addressed and treated as a non-adult that, when it’s finally time to become a full-on adult, you feel like it’s all one big joke. I told my mother recently that it feels like I’m playing dress-up, trying to deceive those around me into actually thinking I’m not as young as I feel. And I’m used to that façade, actually. I’m a seventeen year-old college sophomore, roaming the halls of Tarrant County College like some mature grown-up when in reality, I go home to my mother and father and we talk about chores and cleaning our rooms like with any other teenager.

But I’m definitely beginning to make the transition. My best friend of six years, Corynne, and I are actually moving into the same apartment together later this year. It’s so surreal. And it’s also relieving. I feel a million different things about leaving home, some being extreme eagerness and excitement, but I also feel scared about leaving everything I’ve ever known. Having her there will ebb the homesickness, I hope.

Growing up is hard. Oh, but it’s also so invigorating. I can’t believe my life is really beginning to take off now. I can’t believe it’s me that’s growing up and making my way through the world. I just want to hurry up and get on the first flight to Rexburg and start my new life already. But I also want to stay here in Texas and never, ever leave. I guess I’m just going to have to find a suitable in-between in the meantime and enjoy the part of my life I’m in right now. Really, that's what this life is all about, I think. Learning to look forward to the future without ignoring the present. 

Six Seconds

I took a speech class about a year ago from one of my more memorable professors, Carol Hunsburger. She is one of those professors that makes you want to sing and cry and jump for joy and throttle her all at the same time . . . But looking back, I learned so much from that woman that I wouldn't hesitate to take a class from her again.

One of the many things she taught me is how quickly it takes for someone to size you up: six seconds. That’s it. Six seconds and the stranger you met on the subway has you figured out. Six seconds and the man interviewing you has decided if you’re suitable for the job or not. Six seconds and the person reading this blog is either bored or vaguely interested in what I have to say.

So here I go. Hope I don’t blow it.

My name is Sarah. I love the color blue and have a slight obsession with the band Coldplay. I am an aunt to two beautiful rug-rats that live halfway across the country and I honestly can’t wait for more to come. I am a seventeen year-old college sophomore at Tarrant County College and I work at Cinemark on the side (which takes up 99.99999% of my time, blech). I just got accepted into Brigham Young University – Idaho, where I hope to train as a nurse and obtain my BSN (as well as my MRS, if you catch my drift). Lastly, I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, which is the foundation of who I am and why I am. 

                                             

Okay. That’s really it. This is the gist of what I’ll most likely write about here and there. I hope I used my six(ish) seconds wisely.