Life In The Basement

I should be writing a paper right now. 
Am I?
Erm, well instead I'm spending life in the basement. 
Literally and figuratively. 
I'm trying to write a paper on the gospel while sitting in a spiritual basement. 
Ironically, I spent this week focusing on forgiveness, which in some cases I'm doing very well with. 
The focus was particularly on a scripture in the seventieth chapter of Luke, verse 4. 
It reads:
"And if he trespass against thee seven times in a day, and seven times in a day turn again to thee, saying, I repent; thou shalt forgive him."
And yet, 
here I am not willing to forgive someone who hurt me. 
Someone who is basically my family right now and I haven't said more than three words to them in the past week. You know, it might be four, but really that's barely enough to make a sentence. 
My only goal in life is to become like my Heavenly Father. 
Everything else I do is based around that. 
Why do I want to be a Neuroscience professor?
Is God not the greatest teacher of the them all?
Why do I want to be a mother?
Is my Heavenly Father not the most loving and gentle parent?
One who welcomes me home whenever I will come to him?
Why do I do want to do well?
Did He not say be ye therefore perfect even as thy Father in heaven is perfect?
So why I'm sitting her trying to finish up my personal experience paper for New Testament I don't know how to because the thing I was supposed to be doing this week I'm not doing a very good job with. 
So now I get to take the steps, 
(again literally and figuratively) 
to get out of the basement. 
Moral of the story: do what your Heavenly Father needs you to do so that you can be as close to the light as possible and not just in the basement of life. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Brick Wall

I hit a brick wall today. 
Just so you are aware, it hurts a lot. 
I was so happy, 
what happened?
I don't know. 
I quit. 
This is me giving up. 
I'm done. 
Maybe I'll have a more positive attitude in the morning?
Let's hope so. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
 By: Emma Marie.

Walking on Thin Ice

I can't. I can't. I can't.
I could say it a hundred times over but I still wouldn't be able to convince myself. 
I don't want to sleep, I don't want to eat, I don't want to cry, I don't want to smile, I don't want this.
I think I need to learn how to not think as much.
I'm walking on thin ice here. 
And even though I'll never be brave enough to tell you that maybe I loved you,
you'll never be brave enough to admit the sadness in your voice is because maybe you loved me too.
But they'll always be something, some excuse that keeps you from me because you're too afraid.
You're too afraid to tell me that you're walking on thin ice too.
That every time I say maybe I could,
there is some line that disqualifies me,
because I could never be that.
And maybe I'm hoping in cracks,
but the more we walk together the thicker the ice gets
and the more I know,
that the ice just keeps getting thicker,
I can't. I can't. I can't.

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

What happened to that little girl?
And when did she grow up?

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me. 
By: Emma Marie.

Our Dreams

Last night I took our dreams out of a box. 
I flipped through the hundreds of photographic images as I lay in bed last night. 
I remember wanting you and I remember just wanting you to be happy. 
And now, 
now I'm not really sure what I want
 and I think that's a bad thing.  
I'll admit it, I've missed you a whole bunch.
 I missed the way you say my name &  how you say hello on the other end of the phone. 
I missed the way you say goodnight and hesitate to hang up, 
maybe I am too because I don't know when I can call back again.
I don't know if I can call back again. 
After taking our dreams out of a box I'm afraid the feelings are all so fresh, so raw. 
So much so that I could.....but I just keep saying we can't. 
So, maybe if you let me know how you're feeling about this, maybe I'd be flattered. 
Really though, 
for now I'll just miss the way you say hello and try to take this slowly. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Something Better

There will always be something better than me, rather someone better than me. 
There will always be someone prettier than me. 
There will always be someone smarter than me. 
There will always be someone more musically talented than me. 
There will always be someone better at photography than me. 
There will always be a better doctor, a better professor, a better friend. 
There will always be...something or someone better. 
They say everything you learn for life you learn when you're little. I can't say that I learned how to determine an orbital, what the anatomical name for elbow is or even how to ask a guy for his number. 
I can tell you though, that I did learn the foundations for it. 
I learned how to add and subtract numbers, which with the right set of variables you can determine the shape of an orbital of an electron. I did learn that it was called my elbow and then could associate the anatomical name for it to that. And you know, I did learn how to introduce myself which is the first step to getting that number that you want. 

I remember my second grade teacher used to tell us everyday, 
"Good better best, never let it rest, 'til your good gets better and your better gets best."

So maybe I'm not the best. 
It is proving quite the frustration when there is a really great guy, but then you realize you have no chance. 
If I'm being the best Emma I can possibly be, or you're being the best [insert your name here] you can possibly be, then what else could you be doing?
I'm trying to keep trying and I'm trying not to let it get me down. 

BYU is full of amazing people, it's the cream of the crop, the best of the best 
(or for some reason God felt that they were supposed to be here at this time and Heavenly Father felt that others would be better off in other places even if you may not realize it now). 

....I'm struggling with this being on the bottom thing again.

I think that we all have something that we struggle with though,
guess I'll just keep struggling to be on top again.
At least people know my name, right?

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

So, maybe I'm a college student
...and maybe I'm a BYU cougar

I'm a college student. I'm a BYU cougar. 
[ya, I know we lost the game, but that doesn't make the school any less wonderful, 
the value of an institution should not be based on their football program, let's be honest here]

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Stuck Like Glue

You do that thing that makes me laugh 
And just like that 
There you go making my heart beat again 
Heart beat again, Heart beat again 
There you go making me feel like a kid 

.....and that's really all I'm gonna say, 
oh yes and that I'm really really happy 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Gee Whiz File -- Thanks Timpview

You know, sometimes your education isn't always about what you learn in the classroom. 
More commonly most of you would refer to this as the "street smarts" that you need.
 Well shucks, thanks Timpview for teaching me these things that I thought I'd never need. 
Gee Whiz file, you've come in handy! 

1) From the Timpview lunchroom itself, always know what's in your food. Has anyone ever had a sandwich there and the outside is labeled ham, but on the inside it's turkey? You have no idea in my four years at the school I had that happen to me. Instead, I learned to examine the sandwich itself. 

College Application: Today, upon going to the bookstore to buy lunch I found a PB&J sandwich with marshmallows in it. Guess who bought that sandwich? I did. 
New PB&J application besides the recently invented PB&J wrap, yup. 

2) Another from the Timpview lunchroom, always check for multiple stickers on your fruit. If you don't do this I guarantee you've eaten at least one sticker before. 

College Application: This is sticker number three on this little baby. 

3) You know those days when you go into the downstairs bathroom in the science wing and after several years you learned that if you push the handle in and jiggle it a little bit it'll flush instead of just pushing down. 

College Application: The BNSN building, exactly the same...guess where I go to the bathroom almost everyday because they're the cleanest. Yup, the BNSN building, thank you new skill. 

4) This may be applicable to almost any part of your life, but seriously, acting like you know where you going when you're going somewhere. 

College Application: Not looking like an idiot so people ask you for directions when you're a Freshman. 

....and well, I guess that's all for now.

BYU Discovery of the Day:
Did you know that the BYU testing let's you bring in food. They also let you move at anytime during your test, either from the music room downstairs, or back up. What?!
That would have been nice to know when I spent 3 hours on a Chemistry test yesterday.

Ridiculous Moment of the Day:
 Sitting on the grass listening to people go by. Dear guy, I didn't want to know that you were a "white trash hottie" but thanks for singing, you have a wonderful voice.

Hope of the Day:
As in high school, it'd still be cool to go to dances. Homecoming anyone? really, that's all. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

-Cousin It, well she got some new bangs.

When your "bangs" get to be past your chin, 
well they don't really count as bangs anymore. 
They're more like some really short pieces of your normal hair that just look extremely out of place. 
So I traded the whole "cousin it" look
-- and Ta-Dah! Bam! There were some bangs. 
I'm still a little uneasy about this side swept thing, 
but I'm being brave. 

So here I go, being brave with bangs. 
Thoughts anyone?

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

The Adventures of Allen & Emma

 Hello followers, look at your best friends, now back to mine, now back at your best friends, now back to mine. Sadly, they aren't mine, but if you stopped creepin' on your best friend and read the rest of this blog post you could learn to be like mine. Look down, back up, where are you? You’re on my blog reading about the guy your best friend could be like. What’s in your hand, back at me. I have it, it's a pizza and two tickets to the BYU football game. Look again, the tickets are now a key lime pie. Anything is possible when your best friend is awesome and named Allen.

 I’m on a vacuum. 
Allen, the best friend your friends could be like. 

So, that kid many of you don't recognize, 
his name is Allen, just in case you didn't catch that. 
The best thing about BYU is that you meet people and three weeks later, they're your new best friend.
We met less than a month ago at break the fast, 
and wouldn't you know it -- 
now we're best friends
So here is how this story goes.....

At break the fast less than a month ago, I was standing there - turned to the kid next me and said, "hey, your name is Allen, right?" Indeed it was, so we started talking. He's a cool kid people, just so you know.
After helping clean up I somehow ended up with a large bag of chips. I really wasn't sure what I was going to do with it. (Explain to me how this girl is supposed to get rid of a 3lb. bag of chips without a guys help?) So naturally, being the friendly happy person that I am, said, "Hey Allen, wanna have a chip party?"
So, the next Friday - we did! Chips for all! 
Problem, Mike also invited me up the canyon for a movie, so guess what, we all went? What crazy kid after meeting some random girl twice agrees to go up a canyon at night? Especially in a town he has never really been to before 
-- I guess that's how you make friends these days. 

So we go up, and end up on a back of a trailer holding down a generator, while Rachel tries to take pictures. Umm, what? This is getting ridiculous. So then we watch UP and he freezes to death. 
Silly Texans, winter temperatures are below 55 degrees. Ya'll need to learn about what cold is.
It was so fun, I had a blast! Oh my goodness. 
Then after we went to IHOP, fun much? I think yes. 
You know someone is awesome when they agree to share strawberry Nutella crepes with you. pick-up lines ever. If you were a pirate would your parrot sit on this shoulder or THIS shoulder?
(You know pointing at one shoulder, and then the other, see you end up with your arm around someone)

Fast forward to that picture on the right, see that, that is Key Lime Pie.  
Allen made it for me and my roommates. 
It was the best key lime pie I've had....ever. 
(Yes I know I skipped the awesome story where we had Hot-In-Ready Pizza, watched Harry Potter YouTube videos, laughed a lot or you know just more than a lot, and we went through crunching all the leaves we could find after we walked Daniel to his car, oh look at that, I didn't skip it after all. Seriously, after that night I'm never going to be able to think about Rachel praying the same way again. She's blessing the pizza and says, "Dear Lord, please help us to not gain fifteen pounds. Ha ha ha ha)

So, after that wonderfully delicious pie he brought over, we decided to go get chocolate milk.
Have you had The BYU Creamery's chocolate milk?
It's just so dang creamy. 
(And of course you have to label your milk in college, otherwise those wonderful roommates you have will drink it)
And you know what, if you're gonna have chocolate milk and act like a little kid what better way to spend part of your evening then of course 
So we did go play on a playground, Kiwanis Park anyone?
We swung on the swings, we slid down the wet slides and got all wet, we went on the teeter-tooter, we climbed on the monkey bars, we played tag
 and laughed a whole bunch. 
Have I ever laughed more in my life? 
I'm not sure.  In simple terms, I had a blast. 

And then Allen got hit by an egg. 
Who even throws things out their window at people?
Seriously, it was awful. 
Totally joking, but I'm afraid after last night his roommates are going to think I'm abusive. 
(Note to you: He came home with three bruises, one cut and covered in egg, problem much?)
He got all cleaned up, and what can else can make you feel better, but SONIC!
So we went, he got me a strawberry limeade slush and he got an ocean water. 

....then we came home and I finished my paper, while my roommates and a whole bunch of others went and watched a movie.
 I went later, but it was totally worth missing part of that for all the other adventures. 

So, this is my new best friend. 
Just you know, in case you see him. 
Don't believe me yet?
He was a Drum Major in Texas. Ya that's right bandies, he's legit. 
Oh yes, and he's bringing me homemade bread next week. 

Allen, the best friend your friends could be like. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me. 
By: Emma Marie.

Cute Girl, Just Best Friend Material

Sometimes I sit and wish that you could just tell someone how you feel about them without it having to be weird, or require some sort of commitment. Why can't  it be the first time you see someone, have them say 
"Hi, I think you're cute, I think you've got potential as to being something more than my best friend."
Because I'm just fine with being best friends....I just don't really wanna hope that you like me, 
if you're really not ever going too. Is that fair? I don't think so. 
You know what, I'm a cute girl, you can like me, it's fine. 
Let me be honest, I think that you're a pretty cute guy. 
But if you don't I'm a pretty cute girl who doesn't wanna keep hoping. 
Because if I'm just always gonna be a cute girl who is best friend material, 
could you let me know now?
Thank you. 

Someday...I hope I get to be that cute girl who is a little more than best friend material. 
I just keep telling myself that, someday there is going to be more than this. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Sumthings and Such

Really, I should be doing homework, but am I?
Let's see, I have....
A literature paper
Chemistry worksheets
Chemistry Test
Stats Assignment 3,4,5,6 
New Testament reading
and a Chemistry lab. 
What have I been doing instead you ask?

Don't worry that because the blinds were open in my kitchen I just pretended I was a secret agent. I was sneaking around and rolling across the kitchen floor to close those blinds without being seen by those citizens outside my window.

Or don't worry that, 
 I just danced around my kitchen. Leaping and bounding all over it while I pretended I could whistle, so maybe that whistling while I worked would help me get something done. 

Or don't worry that, 
 I just saw if I could bounce one-hundred times up and down on the couch, while having my arms spread out so that it felt like I was flying. 

Or don't worry that, 
I've been smiling for the last 45 min and my cheeks are starting to hurt
.....okay, maybe worry a little about that one. 

Anyone got any ideas on ways that would help me be productive? 
I really am having WAY too much fun for my own good here - and my goal of graduate school.

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
 By: Emma Marie.

Stupid For You.

Maybe I have butterflies, 
and I'm hoping it's not the same old story,
because maybe I really am fallin' stupid for you. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.


I wrote about it once....the place I called home.
When they ask where I'm from I say Provo, Utah -- but really, 
I'm from Timpview. 
....And unlike the rest of the students who get to go home on holidays and during summer break, 
I'm not sure that I ever get to go back home. 
I spent hours and hours of my life there. 
I fell in love there. I fought there. I kissed there. I held hands there. I slept there. I cried there.
 I watched movies there. I was a rebellious teenager and snuck out of there. 
I ate there. I smiled there. I laughed there. I had my family there. 
I even had a mini-fridge that I could use in the journalism lab there. 
But, now? 
Now I think I'm homeless. 
So Timpview, when do I get to come home? 
When do I get to walk the hallways, sit on the couch and talk, eat my microwaved dinners, laugh until I cry, get hugs from everyone who loves me, know every crevice and corner (cause I've been in them all).
Do I ever get to come home?
I'm homesick, and I miss you Timpview. 

& yes, you can call me pathetic because I miss my high school, my home. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Awkward Moments in Zoobieland

  1. That awkward moment when you run into your EFY COW (Especially for Youth crush of the week) at ward prayer and they totally recognize who you are after four years and you stare blankly at them like a deer in the headlights until five minutes later you realize who they actually are. 
  2. That awkward moment when you end up in the back of a trailer holding down a generator, while simultaneously trying not to hurt someone that you've met twice who decided to come up on a canyon adventure with you while your roommate also tries to hold on for dear life and take pictures. 
  3. That awkward moment when you tell your best friend that you're replacing him and he actually believes you.....and then your roommate volunteers to be your best friend's new best friend. 
  4. That awkward moment when you use the term Zoobie and none of your roommates know what the term means and then you feel really, really awkward. 
  5. That awkward moment when you come out brushing your teeth to get your water bottle from your fridge and you realize there are four guys sitting in your kitchen that you've never met. 
  6. That awkward moment when you realize some kid in the library is listening to the same YouTube version of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" and you post on Facebook about it being your soulmate and when you come home your roommates think it is about the boy you've had a crush on and are then disappointed....even after you said it's your soulmate.
  7. That awkward moment when you haven't seen your soulmate in the library since, but you know his name and hope that you'll have your "Someday My Prince Will Come" moment 
  8. That awkward moment when you go puddle jumping on a Sunday and you question it's appropriateness but justify by calling it "family bonding" and appreciating God's nature....and then you come home and take photographs of how wet your bums are (and of course other ones!) 
  9. That awkward moment when you realize that there is one strip on your leg that isn't shaved and no one told you until you were putting on your pajamas to go to bed. 
  10. That awkward moment when you go to IHOP at 11:30 at night and your friends are talking about pick-up lines and the guy at the cashier starts naming off a bunch and then says....oh, I thought you were planning how to pick-up me. 
  11. That awkward moment when you're going to a prestiges university and you've neglected to use grammatically correct sentences on your blog. 

But as someone once said and various others have repeated, 
it is only awkward if you make it awkward 
-- so, here is to another week of trying my hardest not to make all of this too awkward. 
Here is to yet another week of adventures in Zoobieland

(oh p.s. If you'd like this to become a regular thing, comment and let me know!) 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.

Why Did I Ever?

Why did I ever let you tell me I wasn't good enough?
Why did I ever let you tell me I wasn't pretty?
Why did I ever believe who I am was wrong? 
Why did I ever let myself believe you?
Two weeks has taught me this:
I am good enough, actually more than good enough.
I am not just pretty -- I am beautiful.
Who I am is the best thing ever.
....and the truth is, that I'm not sure anymore why
or if I'll ever believe you again.

& that's what I decided today. Here.                          While I sat on this dorm room couch.

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.


Have you ever paused to think about the word light? Just try for a moment and ponder what life would be like without the word light. It is no coincidence in my mind the word not only means something that serves as kew to viewing something in the darkness but also can similarly be used to represent knowledge.  I've been pondering on this topic for the past few hours and I'm not sure why it has penetrated my mind in such a way. 

After several experiences last night, I finally understood how when Heavenly Father talks about how he cannot appear to us, because the light would be beyond our comprehension. Now, it may be juvenile but to me this always meant that it would be so overwhelming for us to understand that it would just make your mind explode and poof you'd be gone. Today, after talking to a dear friend of mine, it's not that we would explode, but that it was indeed beyond our comprehension. Comprehending as we wouldn't understand it and therefore it would affect us in such a negative way.This could be comparable as to how Jesus taught in parables. If you didn't understand the gospel principle behind the parable serves simply as a good story that you will remember. 

It is also no mere coincidence that the word light is also often used in the context of the light of Christ or charity (also known as the pure love of Christ). That if you have this light, you have love, and you are therefore working towards being a perfect being. That the light of our Father in Heaven is not all powerful, but rather all knowing and more importantly loving. 

There is a truth, a purity, and such an all encompassing charity to that light. 
I guess, it's just been on my mind, because I finally understand it. 
Epiphany moment? Possibly. 
Let's just say this, light, it's a wonderful thing to ponder upon. 

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
 By: Emma Marie.

Where You'll Find Me

Somewhere south of the entrance, 
in the Honors Reading Room 
at the HBL, 
this is where I am. 
College it's a growing experience, 
I feel like I learn more and more about myself every single day that I'm here.
I've often wondered why everyone always says that it (this college thing) will be the best experience of your life. No one ever tells you why, they just continual tell you it is going to be awesome.
Sometimes I thought that was to cover up something that no one was telling me.
Want to know the truth?
Well they were both right.
There are a lot of things about college that they don't tell you, as in the fact that you're constantly doing homework for every class and reading anything you can get your hands on.
Note to future college students -- learn how to read a textbook because you're going to be reading them
Really though, it's wonderful here. Why is it wonderful here?
Everyday I get to spend time with my best friend, who will be my best friend until the end of forever.
You also don't realize how much you cherish someone until they're gone,
I miss knowing everyone in my grade.
I miss seeing familiar faces around the halls of the school that I go to.
I miss that - a whole lot.
Mrs. Abbott was right.
(what did I just say that out loud? yes, of course I did, she is a wise teacher and friend).
But really,
I don't know.
There are guys with suspenders and bow ties and books.
Suddenly being smart and loving science is normal.
No one expects me to be a mother, but I want to be anyways.
It's nice to wonder if someone will fall in love with, just the way you are.
Sometimes it's nice to wonder if they're already in love with you already.
It's all this finding here,
you find knowledge, you find people, you find love, you find friends, you find laughter.
And as I said earlier, sometimes that finding is really hard.
So here is where you'll find me,
and hopefully here is where I'll find me.
Miss you all dearly, with love and comments welcome.

--But this is just another autobiography, examining the prosopography of me.
By: Emma Marie.