Hello y’all. (Do they say “y’all” in Utah?) This is a blog about something kind of crazy: I’m going to college. Yes, you heard me right. I am now eighteen and going to college. I am a mature, grown-up adult (no matter what my mother says, I did NOT watch Pocahontas yesterday). I am no longer a child. Who am I kidding? I totally did watch Pocahontas yesterday. But, anyways, this is a blog about my college experience. And the first step of going to college is moving. And I had quite a move.
For the past four years, I’ve lived in the wonderful, corny (literally corny) state of Indiana. It’s flat and humid and has a very low Mormon population. In other words, Indiana is basically the polar opposite of Utah. I’ve only been here for, what is it, three days now and I’m already shocked by everything. From my cousin’s front porch, I can literally see at least eight other church steeples. The closest one to my building back in Indiana is a little over twenty-five minutes away. Here it’s probably about thirty-second drive max. Two minutes walking.
Okay, enough of the ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the enormous amount of Mormons. Let me tell you what’s been going on. On the 2nd of June, I graduated McCutcheon High School, and gave a valedictorian speech that critics are claiming might be the next the Gettysburg Address or the “I Have A Dream” speech. The two weeks following that consisted of grad parties, grad parties, some bonfires, grad parties, and, of course, MY grad party. Then a week later, Friday the 14th, I hastily finished packing and then headed to Indianapolis with my lovely mother.
We took off around 3’o’clock, had a quick layover in Houston, and then continued on our way to the great City of the Salt Lake. We got there, and I saw at least ten missionary homecomings. Makes me miss Logie (less than a year left!). Then, we went to baggage claim where we sat for about ten minutes wondering where our bags were when we realized we were at the wrong one. Oops. We went to the right baggage thing and found all of our suitcases except my favorite red one. We waited and waited. People came and went. And soon, I was the only one left standing waiting for that bag and there were no more bags coming. Crap. Crap. Crap. It was gone. We went to talk to the United people, and found, to my dismay, that my bag didn’t make it to Utah. My bag was chilling in Texas and I was in Utah. In the words of my wise younger brother: “Cool beans.” I wasn’t very happy.
But we moved on. My aunt, cousin, and grandma picked us up and we drove to my cousin Kodi’s house in Eagle Mountain, Utah, where we’ve been hanging out since Friday evening.
She has three adorable little girls, who I’ve basically fallen in love with. I’m so, so excited that I’ll only live a mere twenty minute drive from them. Family >>>>>>>>>.
Here are some pictures of our festivities: