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SO a couple weeks ago, I headed out to Utah to visit Ethan and Rebecca. Despite my previous experiences in Utah, this trip actually proved to me that Utah is a TOTALLY FUN place! Maybe not where I should go to school, but you can have a lot of fun there. Conveniently, Mommy planned the week so it also fell on the Sunday when my mission President spoke at his home ward. Here are just a couple pictures from the weekend: The Gwilliams, who actually recognized me at President and Sister Clark homecoming. I served with their son, Elder Gwilliam in Pskov for one transfer. Funny thing was he was my least favorite companion, but his family was SUPER nice... Elder Woodheads family! On the flip side, he was one of my best companions. Together with Elder Eady, we were the threesome Assistants As much as I don't like Utah all that much, it actually was kind pretty... What can I say about Elder Eady but good things?  I don't think I've told President Clark, but

So, your missionary is coming home after serving a two year mission for your church?  What a happy moment.  I mean really--words can't begin to describe how HAPPY you are to see him!  In all of that time, you have spoken to him for a total of three hours on the phone, and have received one email a week from him.  You have sent countless letters, multiple packages (perhaps spending $60 on postage to send some Pop-Tarts), and have offered more prayers than you care to admit.  Here are some fun ideas for a Kennedy-style homecoming: 1.  Decide on the place where the missionary wants to come home before he even leaves on his mission.  In our case, Interlochen. I mean, duh . 2.  Think nothing about the homecoming while the missionary is away, because it will only cause sadness and heartbreak on your part.  Plus, you don't want to instill any trunky feelings in your missionary. 3.  Forget number two, because it's completely impossible. 4.  After the church's missionar

This is how my hair SHOULD look.  I'm still getting used to the fact that it is SO short. Cue the song "You're so vain...." Yep, here at Interlochen, I am.  In fact, my hairdresser and I have spent the last several summers trying to figure out exactly how my hair can be victorious up here in the "land of the stately pine". My hair is completely white now.  And along with the whiteness, it is the same wiriness of old ladies.  In fact, I understand now why old women have short hair.   There's just nothing to do with the whole frizzy mess. I love my hairdresser, Jess.  She is undeniably the best hairdresser of my life.  If there was any reason to stay in Pennsylvania, it would be her. She knows the pain I feel each summer as I battle the humidity...and lose.  We have tried all kinds of different ways of making my hair look good when it just wants to look bad.  Last summer was the first summer I was fairly successful.  She cut bangs in my hair, s

I hear that the French language has 12 different ways to express the word "love".  I wish I knew some of them, because just saying "I love Interlochen" doesn't do it justice.  There is something life changing that happens to me here every summer, and that's why I tell people over and over that this is my favorite place on earth.  This summer is proving no different. For the past five years or so, I have bemoaned the fact that I don't have a job.  I have taken online college classes to "better" myself in the hopes of jumping into the workforce.  I have wondered what was the purpose in having children so early since they seem to leave really early too.  I have contemplated what I'm going to do for the next twenty years, in my house alone most of the day.  I have played the blame game rather well, telling John that if he had just been more supportive of me and my goals during college, I would be more fulfilled now. What a load of bull.