April

Well, what do ya know, it's April. Time flies whether you're having fun or not.
Can we play catch up? In absolutely no particular order?


I ran into-quite literally-the president of SUU. Had I been in the right frame of mind, I would've said something terribly witty like, 'pay my tuition bucko'. But probably not.

Group work is still a thing in college. Which is not only rude but raaather awful. I got paired together with a young man to do discussion questions and as he walked over to my desk I thought to myself, 'I hope he's a nerd. That's the best thing a boy can be in this world, a beautiful little nerd'. He was, however, not a nerd. Beautiful....well you know. Regardless Fitzgerald was not impressed.

Pink blossoms are a little bit life affirming, don't you think? The thing about pink blossoms is they are terribly terribly temporary, and so if you swerve  safely pull over off the road to take pictures it is not considered silly at all. Even if it makes you a teeny bit late for singles ward. Even if you did it on purpose because the last time you went to church a girl had both a can of Lysol AND a raccoon tail on her purse. But that's a story for another day probably.

If you were a nephew named Jaden, you would know that digging in the long jump pit at the high school track is a real treat. If you were an aunt named Erin, you would know that Jaden is a top notch tiny human, but you'd also be glad he is not yours to keep full time. If you were a grandma named Connie, you'd probably wish your daughter asked permission before posting pictures of you on the internets. 

Spring fever is most definitely a thing. The spirit told me so, and I believed it. I've got all sorts of ants in my pants for something-anything- to come along and shake up my schedule. Because although I am a strict lover of the mundane and predictable, a little excitement never killed nobody. Spring fever usually leads to me wacking at my hair in the name of bangs, or considering growing Frida Kahlo eyebrows. I had a good long look at my hair in the mirror the other day, and it said 'please leave me alone'. So I threw up some finger guns and said ok.

Registering for fall semester is almost a guaranteed way to lose your mind. However, if that doesn't do the trick, seeing how much you owe for fall semester will definitely work.

Snapchatting young men with beards to your sisters while in class is socially acceptable.According the the gospel of Erin. -on a side note, I refuse to be the only person who laughed when Elder Ballard referenced both snapchat and tinder in his talk. Priiiiiiceless- You can even wink at bearded young men, you know, if you're into that sort of thing.

Lastly, pushing through the last bit of a semester feels impossible, but is probably necessary.

The post about nothing really

I hate the term " I'm busy" and all the variations of it. We glorify the concept of being chronically busy, as though being busy is synonymous with being happy or successful. Sometimes, busy is just a placeholder word. Sometimes, busy is just busy. I really feel much better admitting that.

In a stroke of almost pure genius-diluted genius?-I watched Sabrina. Both versions. Because I find Humphrey Bogart Linus Larabee to be just a teensy bit more endearing than Harrison Ford Linus Larabee. Something about his droopy eyes makes me think of a basset hound. And basset hounds are verrrry endearing I assure you.Plus that mumbly deep voice? Yes please! But the Harrison Ford version features some really choice Godfather quotes, so it's a bit of a toss up on which I like better. It just so happens, that I am very good personally at going out with David Larabees, and they've all been perfectly charming of course. But maybe I should shoot for a Linus Larabee? Or maybe I should not take so much stock into silly chick flicks.

I've spent the last few days pouring over a 200 page document for my research paper. 200 pages really isn't that bad when you think about it, like how many pages did I sink into that teenage wizard book series? But here's the clincher. It's a pdf of a scanned document- to be read, blurry tiny print garbage. I have absolutely needed my glasses for every second, which isn't at all the usual, since my glasses usually serve as more of an optional accessory rather than a necessity. Hooray for mostly ok eye sight! Anyway, here's what I learned; apparently when you are the author of a 200 page literary research paper, you can start spouting absolute nonsense in the middle, probably because you are assuming that nobody is going to read your whole paper. So, yeah BYU professor guy from the 60s, I read your whole rant on Richard Burton in the middle of your paper, and I am not at all amused. -Ok maybe a little bit amused-. But yeah, 200 pages later and only about 10, if I'm generous, are going to prove useful for my research. Isn't education the best? It is, I promise minus my grumping it is.

For Valentime's--and I absolute insist on that incorrect spelling. For sentimental reasons-- I got a fantastic turquoise cuff. I'm all sorts of thrilled about it ya know. Eeeexcept for one minor thing. For about 2 ish? days I was deeply convinced it was making my arm go completely numb. Which probably merits an explanation, you know defend my sanity and whatnot. It all began by me making the offhand comment to my father that my wrists hurt and there's this numb-y/shooting pain going on sporadically-which I've decided is carpal tunnel syndrome although I have absolutely no solid proof for that, but that's a hypochondria story for another day- and he said "Well is it your new bracelet? You know people can have weird reactions to copper"
And then I just knew. It was the bracelet. Killing me slowly. Probably giving me cancer of all body parts. My entire arm felt like it was numb. Which led to all sorts of good panicky feelings. So I switched it to the other arm. And blammo! Numbness.
In a state of total rational thinking, I texted my father and informed him that I was most likely on my way to needing amputation and that if I were so lucky as to get prosthetic arms, I'd really like bigger hands so I could give really manly handshakes. Manly handshakes are a big deal for some reason in the Heap household. And famously I have the reputation of having baby hands and as a result, really wimpy handshakes. It's a burden I have to bear in this life.
He said that he would definitely keep that request in mind if it came down to amputation. That dad of mine is a real keeper, I would eat sketchy Maverick hot dogs with him any day just cause I like him. But not too often, because I find hot dogs in general not trustworthy.
But to shorten the whole tale, I have finally come to the conclusion that the power of suggestion is suuuper real and also that I am the queen of paranoia. So, let's laugh about that and pretend like that's not kind of concerning, ok? Ok.

I'm also, as luck would have it, feeling the beginnings of a cold coming on. You know what I'm talking about, when you just know you're about to get sick, but you're not quite sick yet? Fortunately it seems to be a very generous and thoughtful kind of cold. I know this, because it hasn't sneaked up on me and knocked me flat on my back in 2.5 seconds like your average cold does. Rather it has ambled in slowly, waiting to be properly acknowledged and invited in, only making me vaguely congested at night. Which gives me a rather lovely throaty deep Lauren Bacall voice when I talk. See? That's what I call generosity!

But, uhhh yeah. Life is good. And also, congrats/sorry if you waded through this entire pointless tirade.

February I'm ready

I like you February, you're a real keeper. I like you even when people turn you into a barftastic brag-a-palooza of who has the best significant other. I like you even when people turn you into a hate ALL the people in relationships kinda shindig. I like you even when people ignore the other holidays like President's day and Ground Hog's day. I like you February with your funky spelling and contradictory pronunciation. You're a real gem of a month I think.


Like every month, February snuck right up on me. I get very focused in on the day to day and weekly living that I when I pop my head out of my ostrich hole in the sand I'm always pleasantly shocked it's a new month.

School is going well. Much better than I anticipated, although I may have just had some intense negative realistic Garth-ish(?) preconceived notions of how the semester would go. My classes are near the end of the day, and I've really grown accustomed to how quiet campus is in the later afternoon. It's beyond lovely and just the right amount of chill, and I appreciate that aesthetic greatly.
I feel blessed that, rather serendipitously I think, my classes are topics and interests I find worthwhile and interesting. Except Oedipus Rex. Never Oedipus Rex.
I won't lie and say I skip all over campus in a chronic state of awe and gratitude for this opportunity. That unicorn of a fantasy is sooo not the reality. Some days are hard. There are definitely days where the skeletons in my closet get rattling around too loudly and make accomplishing anything nearly impossible. It's a frustrating and less than fantastic sort of relationship, but I accept that it's the reality of my life right now.

So poor quality picture dump? ok!

I broke down and hopped on the trend train of wearing Birkenstocks.
They're insanely comfortable with somewhat helps ease the pain of being
a 'trend follower'. They received the high honor of a smackin kiss from Jaden
so, idk they must be pretty great

I started a new cross stitching project a while back, and I have good faith
that it will take forever to finish.

SUU looking delightfully dapper

Lowkey my favorite picture I've taken. 

Jaden is a real cowboy for Grandpa Heap! He drives truck like an old pro!

My cow Joan-like from  Mad Men? you know, red head and a large...hiney?-had her calf this weekend. yeeyee!

A conglomerate of thoughts

Perhaps you noticed-and I solidly understand if you did not- that I switched up the template of this ol blog. I experimented with pre-formatted templates and summoned all the residual knowledge about html code and wed design I learned in high school....and finally settled on minorly tweaking the design I had and making a header.
3-ish hours later, and I am only 45% satisfied with the results.
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Something about beginning classes again brings out all these hidden agendas that have been hibernating in my brain, ruminating into wild beasts when released. Just your casual, revamp and drastically alter your entire existence kinda things. No big deal.
For example, I threw away/donated a large chunk of my closet. I find I live and function better in simple terms, and a wardrobe that is bulging with clothes I don't really wear is not helpful to that cause.
Which prompts the subject;how long, is too long to keep and wear clothing? If I have a shirt(or five) from,oh I don't know, 2011 that I still like, is it still kosher to wear it? It's such a tough call, when you take into consideration, I was 16 in 2011. And can you wear teenager clothing as an adult? Am I even qualifying as an adult yet?
It's all quite silly and insignificant problems to be agonizing over. Sort of a stubby fork vs long fork kind of debate. Which is an issue near and dear to my heart.
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Every day I go to class, whether it's as I'm arriving, sitting through a lecture, or walking homeward, I have been struck with a sense of absolute gratitude for this opportunity. After the first day of class, I sat in my car and cried a little bit. It felt immeasurably good to be on campus and to sit in a classroom, and I almost couldn't believe I got to be there. As we progress and move forward through life I believe there are specific journeys or callings we need to accomplish. It's all very personal, and individualized for each person what they want most to be doing. To my very core, I feel this is the direction I need to be going. It's out of my comfort zone, and it's honestly wearing me out, but it is intensely satisfying.
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I feel at some point in your life, you ought to ponder what character in Little Women you would be. I'm sure it is an essential life quest, and not at all something you do when reality can't catch your full undivided attention. ;) I'd like to say I'm a Jo, although I'm not nearly extroverted enough. Plus I would never let a catch like Laurie get away, you know?
But if we were talking You've Got Mail characters, well I'm a Kathleen Kelly with a healthy dose of Patricia. I do make coffee nervous, and I am part camel. So there is that spiel. Thank your, ladies and gentlemen.
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There is something really rather lovable about bad dates. I enjoy a good date as much as the next person, they're probably the general goal to shoot for in the dating world. But I've got a real soft spot for bad dates. I mean, hilariously bad no-one's-gonna-believe-me horrendous dates. I get slightly giddy halfway through catastrophic dates thinking about how fun it is going to be telling this story and laughing about it. I had a doozy of one recently. We're talking train-wreck being flushed down a toilet bad. However, this is the internet and it is important to be sensitive of other people's feelings, so I shouldn't go into details. Besides, I feel like my parents have already spread the tidings of great disappointment to most of my family. Suffice it to say, nothing says bad boy like no eye contact whatsoever and nasty ice cream. Swoon, am I right?
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Amy Winehouse and Cat Stevens have been dominating my listening habits, should you be curious about that. Which is all very good and fine in my book. Cat Stevens sort of, occasionally gives me a John Denver and James Taylor kinda vibe, you know? And anything even in the same vibe neighborhood as James Taylor has to be a good idea- am I right or wrong, Cherene?

First week of school thoughts

In listical order. Because. -Listical is not a word. And what a shame about that.-

• Is this really what the kids are wearing these days? Are they lame? Am I lame?

• Is that my building? Nope. Nope. Nope. Maybe? Nope. 

• I attended orientation when I was 18 and full of life and dumb enough to care about campus folklore. Why do I have to do it again?

• A get to know you game?!? SUU how could you!

• Sooo many obscure band references. So, so many.

• I want to sit by people. But I definitely don't want to sit by people. 

• Why is it a guy can ask you on a date, but it takes like 3 days to know the date, time and place of where this mystical date will take place? Can't we just hang out? (sorry dad. And multiple Mormon church leaders that frown upon hanging out)

• Homework!! I mean....oh no....homework....

• Ohmygosh I'm so old. That kid has got to be kindergarten age, tops,

• Ohmygosh I'm so young. I'm a fetus by comparison to you dinosaur people.

• You're really going to lecture on Harry Potter for 7 minutes? Is this relevent? I did not pay for these shenanigans lady.