Day 25-What You Would Find in My Bag

I would like to preface this blog post with a little anecdote that goes a little like this:

I had just gotten back from a trip to the temple (in other words, I look like a wet dog) and was getting started on this post when I heard a little knock knock on the door. I told the mysterious visitor to come in, and in walks a reasonably attractive young man I assume is from the ward. My first instinct was to run and cover my make-up-less face (apparently the blessings of the temple don’t extend to automatic attractiveness) until this mysterious young man walks right into my apartment and says–Who are you?
Really?
So I tell him in my chipperest tone–I’m Rylee. Who are you?
Classy, I know.
And then he says–Oh, I’m Dave. I’m here to exchange seasons of Psych.
For those of you who are unaware, I live in a Psych Ward. I have been hailed as the resident Psych expert and am bombarded with people who are dying to borrow my DVDs and partake of the abundance of Psych knowledge I possess. Seriously–I am in Heaven.
Anyway, I exchange the seasons for him, he gives me a Smartie as a token of their appreciation, and left. 
Note to self: next time I look cute (aka-Sunday at church) say hi to reasonably attractive young man. Plan.
Ok–on to the Main Event!
I don’t really carry a bag, but if you were to look in my backpack, you would find:
  • A couple of random papers that were graded ages ago
  • My planner-slash-wallet-slash LIFE
  • A fork
  • Old wrappers
  • My favorite BYU pen
  • Tickets to random tourist spots in Spain
  • An iClicker
  • Candy
  • A 2000 page collection of Shakespeare
  • My 4 subject notebook (for my five classes…I don’t get it either)

All the Single Ladies

Disclaimer: I have intentionally avoided any mention of my dating life so far on this blog. I didn’t want to be that girl–the sentimental and dull one. But I felt like this would be something fun to write about. So please don’t judge me and my singleness–just enjoy the random ramblings of Rylee.

One of Haley’s friends, who I happen to be friends with on Facebook, had this as her status the other day:

Note: the following has been edited for grammatical errors and censored for inappropriate language.

“I just wanna get married, and skip all the other shinanigans. It’s too stressful. But I can’t seem to find the dang fast forward button.”


I don’t want to belittle this poor girl’s feelings, but I couldn’t help but laugh internally when I read this (The laugh would have been external, but I was in the library at the time). Part of it was because I found it funny that something like that would be on the mind of a high school senior. I wanted to tell her: Honey, you don’t know the MEANING of wanting to get married. Come spend a week at BYU and I’ll show you wanting to get married. But the other part of me laughed because I knew that this thought tends to be on my mind quite frequently as well. Where the heck is my dang fast forward button?


After thinking about this to myself for a bit (remember, I’m putting off writing a paper at this point) I realized that hitting a fast forward button would have meant skipping all sorts of amazing things that have happened to me in the last year alone.


Let’s review, shall we? (feel free to refer to my picture history on Facebook–that’s what I did)

My Adventures in 2011
  • I spent 6 weeks in Spain.
  • I’ve sung my heart out in the greatest musical group I’ve ever been in
  • I’ve eaten cookie dough and brownie batter with people who appreciate it like I do
  • I traveled all over Italy.
  • I lived with a group of girls that made a shrine to Jimmer Fredette.
  • I’ve gone on the funnest (yes, funnest) group dates
  • I spend my evenings harmonizing with my roommates as we sing Disney songs
  • I went to Paris.
  • I had a fun little summer fling.
  • I went to New York for the Psych premiere.
  • I’ve had my entire life documented in pictures by a certain camera-loving Asian
  • I went to the Holi fest and have done other fun things with my Choir-Friend Candace
  • I’ve had mid-day Psych marathons-slash-naptimes with my long time bosom friend
  • I’ve made friends with some of the greatest people I’ve ever known.
Honestly–sometimes I look back on the opportunities I’ve had and the people I’ve met and wonder how I could possibly be disappointed with the way my life has turned out. Why would I ever want to hit the dang fast forward button and miss all of this?

I feel like a lot of the counsel I have been receiving lately has been about being patient and knowing that the Lord will always do what’s best for me. President Uchtdorf’s “Forget Me Not” talk (didn’t you just love it?) has especially inspiring words. In his “Forget-Not to Be Happy Now” section, he recounts the attitude of the general public in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory as several people decided they could not be happy with a chocolate bar unless it had a golden ticket in it. The chocolate bar they all loved so much before was not enough for them, and they wanted something more. This example really resonated with me because I really, REALLY like chocolate. And I really, REALLY like my life. There is no reason to not be happy now with what I have. And here’s the thing: I know that my golden ticket (marriage, for all of you keeping track of the metaphors at home) is coming later and, I must confess, I am pretty stoked for that blessed day. But I might as well enjoy the chocolate now while I can, because heaven knows that I’m not going to be able to do all the great things I’ve done once I’m married (especially having a summer fling. I believe that is called adultery.) 

So I guess this is my declaration of contentment. I love life. I love the shinanigans. And I love that I have a Heavenly Father who knows me better than I know myself, and loves me enough to give me what’s best for me. And so until you all receive an invite to my perfect wedding to my perfect (Spanish) husband in the future, feel free to come party it up with the girl who’s loving life. 🙂

Day 22-Something That Makes Me Different

I’ve been sitting here for a while now. I’ve watched the opening scene of Breakfast at Tiffany’s twice. I’ve Facebook stalked cute boys in the ward. I’ve even gotten a bowl of ice cream, all the while trying to decide what I could possibly say makes me different than everyone else. This actually becomes pretty difficult when you live in an apartment of carbon-copy girls.

Melinda and I are both in Women’s Chorus and share a love for all things Cary Grant. Or Audrey Hepburn. Or James Stewart. Or kind of Gone With the Wind. We actually just had a discussion about Rock Hudson, too, so clearly I can’t play the old-movie-buff card.

Brooke and I are both English Majors. We are the ones who sit on the couch late at night, either reading a book bigger than our heads or typing up forever-long papers. Every once and a while we take a break to talk about feminism or British Romantic poetry. Or boys. So clearly, I can’t play the English Major card.

Kim and I are both crazy music buffs. We freak out over cool classical pieces and frequent compare our moods to the different movements of Holst’s Planets suite. We once spent an entire week obsessed with this video. (I don’t blame you if you don’t watch it all the way through. We just loved the old man and his (lack of) conducting)) So clearly I can’t play the music nut card.

Jeehee and I….well, she’s Asian. Which obviously means we don’t have anything in common. But I still love her guts. And the fact she got me M&Ms the other night. Score!

Tenery and I are both avid Psych fans. Every day this summer, we would come home from work, make chicken quesadillas and pop in an episode of Psych. (We may or may not also have put on a second episode to purposely fall asleep to and proceeded to take a two hour nap. This summer was the best) So clearly I can’t play the Psych fanatic card.

While I clearly can’t claim any of the above traits as something that is specifically mine, I realized while writing these descriptions that I do have something uniquely awesome–I honestly could not have asked for better roommates, and the amount of fun we have together is slightly ridiculous. So, yeah, we’re all basically the same person. But how lucky am I to live with my 5 best friends?