OOPS!

Dear Someone,

            I am just going to preface this letter acknowledging the fact I am being irrational. I can only imagine what you would say. Today was just an interesting day... an interesting day full of embarrassment.  Out of all of the emotions embarrassment is the worst. I will admit that is an emotion I deal with rather poorly. I internalize the embarrassment, and let it fester in to a wretched stomach ace. I would much rather feel sad, scared, or lonely.

            I remember one time in particular I was caught kissing. I was so horrified that I vowed not to kiss him for a lengthy time. I was so terribly embarrassed. He was able to laugh about the awkward encounter within minuets. I on the other hand had every intention of curling up into ball. This would allow me to disappear in to the abyss. Now I recognize worse things in life can happen than your special someone’s sister unexpectedly walking in on you. I am happy to report that I am almost to the point where I can laugh about that story. Perhaps I am too easily embarrassed. I’m sure that my fear of embarrassment has to do with one of my personality flaws. Something about being an ENFP would explain my fear of embarrassment. I will have to inquire Miss K. Fin about it. 

            Today I had the opportunity to talk in church. I went over the time that was given. My seven minuet talk quickly developed to be thirteen minuets. It was irresponsible to not watch the time more carefully. Above being irresponsible it was inconsiderate of my peers. I was extremely embarrassed. Irrational, yes. I can justify going over my time allowance by allowing myself to think that the message I was sharing needed to be heard. Next time I am given the opportunity to speak I will be more time conscious. Nevertheless I was tremendously embarrassed. I need to be less egocentric. Guaranteed no one else is slightly concerned about the lack of my time conservation. 

            Did I mention I hate being embarrassed? It most definitely was bad day to not wear my lovely green watch. 

Cheers

Miss Fin

Cambridge

 Dear Someone,

            I don’t think I’ve ever written more in my life than I have this semester. My life seems to be a vast jumble of papers, logs, journals, emails, and letters. Word is consistently open on my desktop. The only problem is I am more inclined to write you to than to write my papers. I am starting to develop a love, hate relationship with writing. Nothing is more rewarding than finding a way to craft my thoughts into words. Yet writing is intimidating. I need write four looming essays and a talk. Procrastination certainly will be the cause of my demise.

            I reluctantly signed up for my classes at the University. It was quite an accomplishment. Preparing for the new semester is a bittersweet experience. I have loved my time here and I have been unenthusiastic about my return to the States.  Yesterday was our last day trip. It is surreal that my semester abroad is coming to a close. Our last day trip was spent in Cambridge. Which if I may say so was simply delightful. It is a charming college town.

             Journeying to England in the early twenties is a passage for the Fin sisters. Though by different means, and for different purposes we have each walked on English sod. As a result learning lessons just as unique and varied as our personalities. Cambridge was the perfect place for Miss K. Fin. We went punting later in the afternoon. The guide explained each college and the students who were typical residence of each. I was so proud to exclaim where my dear sister studied. In my heart she will always be amongst the elite. I am extremely proud of her. It was delightful to walk in her footsteps on perhaps the same cobblestone her green converse trod. 

Cheers!

Miss Fin

Pembroke

Punting

Indigo Coffee House

Sporting our new sweatshirts in our very messy dorm.

 P.S. That is not my side of the dormitory. :) 

Harry Potter

 

Dear Someone,

            Thursday I was a homeless woman. I was bundled within eight layers of clothing three of which were coats. With my cardboard box for a mattress I slept on the streets of London. Yes I legitimately looked homeless. Why you may ask? I have one response for you; I am a devout Harry Potter fan. At 2:45 am twenty of my peers left the center. We set out to claim our spot for the Harry Potter World Premiere. 

 Homeless. Very Attractive, I know

               As a general rule of thumb I do not retain heat very well. It was beyond cold. I found it quite hysterical that I was wearing more layers than I wore snowmobiling up at Bear Lake last year. My body was shaking from the cold. I am sure I looked as if I was convulsing. It was rather ridiculous. After sitting through three torrential down pores I was not only a homeless woman. I was a cold, soggy, tired, homeless woman. I then began to think about the consequences for sitting in the rain. Taking my luck into consideration my meager immune system would leave me defenseless enabling me to catch pneumonia, that or the black plague for that matter. However two glorious star struck hours of my eighteen-hour adventure made the cold worth it.

Our plan was to make a statement. We would be seen by the cameras and loved by the reporters. To gain the attention of the cameras we would have to be obnoxious American fans. We decided that we would dress as Dementors. Our chant was, “Were here to Kiss Potter.” In the kitchen the previous night we imagined how ominous a crowd of women dresses in black hoods would look. Most of our posters were centered on this theme of kissing potter. 

Garbage bag cloaks

               We were actually quite fortunate to be situated right next to the red carpet. More importantly we were next to the interviewing stage. Edith Bowan was the interviewer on our side. She was very helpful. Once she knew who was coming on to her stage she would give us a hint so that we could be positioned with our camera’s. She gave her American girls three shout outs through out the interviews. It was serial to be feet away from the stars. We had everyone except J.K. interviewed on our side. Daniel Radcliffe thanked the American girls for braving the tedious weather conditions. If you follow this link you can see my moment of fame. (Around 1:08 on the clip.)  It is the one time I can honestly say I am so grateful for my height. Normally being an Amazon woman impedes with just about everything. I would like you to try being taller than 80 percent of your dates. At any rate my height was certainly to my advantage. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hrUQBWzoabY&feature=player_embedded

           
             It was thrilling to see the cast. Not to down play my excitement. Realistically these actors can never take prescience over the characters conjured in my imagination.  My heart skipped a beat when the announcers proclaimed the arrival of J.K. Rowling. More than anyone else on the red carpet, I was grateful for that woman. For whatever it’s worth Harry Potter opened my imagination. It enabled me to engage in reading. I remember starting the books with my mom. I had the flu. So to pass the time away my mother dear decided she would read out loud to me. I love the connection that we share with this series. 

Delightful. It truly was simply delightful to see the woman I have dreamed of meeting for more than half of my life. As a young girl I would write draft letters to her. I wanted nothing more than to meet the woman who helped me to become a reader. I dreamed  that my story of falling in love with her novels would soften her heart, and would enable me a pass to meet her. Though my letters were never sent, I can say I am thoroughly satisfied.  It was delightful just to see her. J.K. Rowling set the foundation for the other wonderful books I would read. I am grateful for reading and the impact it has had in my life, and the impact it continues to have. Nothing is more magical than the impact of an excellent book.

Cheers!

Miss Fin

Random Tangent

 

Dear Someone,

             I worry that my thoughts digress further and further away from my travels. Even though we live a very fast paced life I find myself mulling over various things that perplex me. Long rides on the train and tube facilitate my incessant need to analyze. The tube is a great place for advertising. This weekend they put up a new set of advertisements in preparation for the holiday season. One advertisement in particular troubled me. “Radiate Confidence with Cosmetic Surgery” 

          

             This advertisement vexed me as I silently pondered the implications on my train ride to church. What are we telling women about beauty? I thought about being a troubled teen. How desperately I strived to “radiate confidence” I thought about my own struggles with weight management. I thought about the taxing process I went through to truly appreciate what a wonderful, and lovely gift my body is. I thought about friends who have given up so much to also “radiate confidence”, and at such a high price. Living in the midst of so many women it is not uncommon to hear girls talk about hating their thighs, or detesting their stomachs, even the pores on their face are inadequate. It simply troubles me. When did it become okay to disrespect our bodies? I think that this problem can more easily remedied when we as people know who we are, and where we have come from. Essentially when we take the time to recognize our own divine, and individual birth right. I find myself stopping to pause and think. Whose validation am I trying to acquire? I can truly only think of one opinion in the scheme of things that matters.

 I was reading a conference talk that precisely addressed my concerns. M. Russell Ballard in the April 2010 conference addresses mothers, and daughters.  

“It is, unfortunately, all too easy to illustrate the confusion and distortion of womanhood in contemporary society. Immodest, immoral, intemperate women jam the airwaves, monopolize magazines, and slink across movie screens—all while being celebrated by the world. Popular culture today often makes women look silly, inconsequential, mindless, and powerless. It objectifies them and disrespects them. And so, my dear young women, with all my heart I urge you not to look to contemporary culture for your role models and mentors. Please look to your faithful mothers for a pattern to follow. Model yourselves after them.”

            I was quite pleased with this council. I couldn’t help but think of the countless women who have acted as mentors, and role models in my life. These women have gone beyond radiating confidence. Women who I hope to aspire to be like someday. First my thoughts turn to the women in my home. My dear Grandmother Hales. I think about her sacrifice to be a woman in the work force. I think of the large sphere of influence she had on the world. Though she was an intellectual and spiritual giant, she still found time to kneel and play with her very young grand daughter on the floor. I am grateful for her example, for her gentleness.

            I think about my Mother. I think about the sacrifices she has made for her children. I can’t help but think about my lovely aunts who have always treated me as their own.  On countless occasions they have welcomed me in to their homes with open arms. I think about my sisters. The women who I hold close to my heart, the women whom I call my dearest friends. My dear, dear sisters who I have always wanted to emulate. Between their varying personalities I am constantly finding things to learn from them.

My thoughts not only turn to the witty, confident, beautiful women of my family but they turn to the women who have invited me into their homes to watch their children. These women have spent countless hours in my driveway listening. Just simply listening to the troubled heart of a young woman.  I have learned about the kind of wife, and mother I want to be someday through their example. I consider myself very fortunate to have been surrounded by strong radiant women.

Each of the women mentioned have taught me how to radiate confidence. (Thankfully without cosmetic surgery.) My role models, and mentors radiate confidence because they love who they are. They radiate a different kind of confidence that is not contingent on scales, and numbers. They radiate light, because they know who they are. They have taught me what it means to be confident. The important lesson of learning how respect myself, despite what contemporary culture may preach.  

It is now my duty to be an example of what it truly means to radiate confidence. I can be an example to those around me. I want to be a mother that shows my children what a precious gift our bodies truly are. I want them to know that I enjoy being me quite a lot. I want to be an example of health. I want them to know that my happiness is not contingent on the size of my pants, or a number on a scale. I am grateful for the women in my life who have been wonderful examples of this. I am sorry for my very long, and drawn out tangent. Think of it as food for thought.  I hope all is well at home!

Cheers!

Miss Fin 

Bonfire Night

Dear Someone,

           

            I had a simply delightful weekend. Some of my dear friends have family in England. Before I came abroad we talked about the possibility of spending time with their relatives. Coincidentally I have watched the children from this sweet family when they have come to spend their holiday in Utah. Being in the home atmosphere remedied my longings to be home. It was just like my regular weekend routine at home. Which all to often consists of playing with little children, and eating far too many sweets. 

            Two of my peers came along with me for the weekend. We went to the Schwartz home to celebrate bonfire night with them. Friday night we found ourselves caught in a rainstorm. Instead of venturing out in the rain, we enjoyed a Friday night movie night. We all piled on the couch and watched Enchanted. The girls knew every word. So essentially we had a brilliant sing a long. Mrs. Schwartz took such excellent care of me. I felt immensely loved. I was overwhelmed by the impact of this dear families influence in life. Time after time they have gone out of their way to support me. To the point where their siblings even take such wonderful care of me. I am grateful for the sense of community I feel at home. I am very grateful that, that sense of community extends across the world.  Mrs. Schwartz made us pumpkin chocolate chip cookies, and chatted with us into the wee hours of the morning. Good food, good company, and excellent conversation make for a very happy, and satisfied young woman. 

Bonfire night is a spectacular occasion in England.  You could compare it to the fourth of July. Rather than shorts and t-shirts we were bundled in our warm winter clothes. The girls recited this poem to teach us  about the origins bonfire night. (It is also known as Guy Fawkes Day)

Remember, remember the fifth of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason, why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, guy, t'was his intent
To blow up king and parliament.
Three score barrels were laid below
To prove old England's overthrow.

By God's mercy he was catch'd
With a darkened lantern and burning match.
So, holler boys, holler boys, Let the bells ring.
Holler boys, holler boys, God save the king.

And what shall we do with him?
Burn him!

 We went out into the country and enjoyed a private firework show. The fireworks put our street fireworks to shame. We enjoyed a firework show equal to the grandeur of the Sugar House fireworks, from the convenience of thirty feet away.  Not to mention with virtually no crowd. We sipped our Cadbury hot chocolate as we oohed, and awed at the brilliance of the colors illuminating the night sky. We enjoyed a lovely night. I am looking forward to keeping in touch with this dear family.     

 Cheers!

Miss Fin 

Tea

Dear Someone,

This past Sunday we had the pleasure of having a guest fireside speaker from Oxford University. The Principal of the Harris Manchester College gave a riveting lecture. He outlined traits that contribute to being an effected leader. He was pleased with us, and as a result invited us to join him in Oxford for tea.

 I am not sure if I told you about our schedule. Generally this is how a week in the life of Miss Fin is executed. Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday I have classes from nine to about noon. Wednesdays are set aside for day trips. On those days some of the trips include Stonehenge, Austin’s home, Dover, Stratford-apon-Avon. Essentially places that I have neglected to write you to about. (Not out of dissatisfaction, or ungratefulness merely for the sake of time.) That leaves Friday for London study. This week for example we are going to Parliament. The fact of the matter is we see so much, and I have so very little time to tell you of all my travels. Anywho, this past Wednesday we set out for Oxford. On our way we visited the graves of Winston Churchill, and C.S. Lewis. It was shocking to me that a majority of my peers have never read the chronicles of Narnia. All I can say is what a shame, what a shame.

 We visited a wonderful great house, Blenheim Palace. The architectural design is set to resemble Versailles. It was created to be England’s own Versailles. It is a lovely example of Baroque architecture. I was highly entertained by the paintings of the eye outside of the main entrance. It reminded me of Zelda. Eye marks perfect for the hook shot... or for a bow and arrow to open a locked door. A. Fin would have agreed with me. The girls were bewildered at my Zelda reference. You can send me away to England to become a more refined young woman, but I am still going to indulge in playing video games...That is when time permits.

I spy with my little eye

            We were left to explore Oxford for a few hours. I am embarrassed to talk about what we sought out to find initially. For it will only affirm which generation I belong to. So I think it’s best to just embrace it. I am apart of the Harry Potter generation. We were thrilled to go to the dinning hall in which the Great Hall from Harry Potter was filmed. We had some pretty epic duels. Do not fret; we saw more of Oxford than just Christ’s Church. We climbed St. Mary’s and enjoyed a lovely view of Oxford. As we were about to climb we can into some ladies. They told us that it would take us around thirty minutes to get to the top. Little did they know…we are rather good at climbing stairs. It was nice to reach the top and not be winded. 

           Tea. Tea in Oxford, the event I have been so anxious to tell you about. I was enchanted by the prospects of a tea party, and I personally am rather fond of herbal tea. We entered the room and found platters with various types of sandwiches. To my delight there were sandwiches with cucumbers. How perfect, could I ask for anything more quintessential for a tea party? Now there were a few varieties of sandwiches. I knew the cucumbers were safe. I should have just been content. Nevertheless I spied what seemed to be a tomato sandwich. It made perfect sense to me. Egg, cucumber, and tomato sandwiches what a lovely combination. I could avoid the eggs and enjoy quaint vegetable sandwiches. I was wrong, so very wrong. It was not a tomato to my chagrin. It was fish. You know how much I detest fish. Considering where I live I have been good about eating fish and chips. In my defense fish should not resemble a tomato. How impolite of me to not eat what was on my plate. Oh well. I could not bring myself to eat it. No amount of guilt could shame me into eating the fish. It was not a tomato, and I could not fool myself in thinking that it was one. So the fish sandwich remained uneaten. 

Looks Questionable to Me

 All in all Oxford was delightful. I am still very grateful that we were invited to tea. The cucumber sandwiches after all were scrumptious. One more fish killed for my sake only to be tossed in the rubbish bin. It is what it is. I hope all is well on your side of the pond!

Cheers!

Miss Fin

I Feel... Wicked

Dear Someone,

            I don’t know why couples retire to St. George. In an ideal world I will retire to the English countryside. Then with my dear husband I can venture into the city and see every production. Sounds perfectly wonderful to me. What do you think about that? The choices truly are endless here. I am thoroughly enjoying the nightlife. I can admit that I live a charmed, charmed life.

My Professor Mrs. Bird went to the box office this morning and purchased 3 tickets. I sat on the front row. Not only was I on the front row, I was in the center seat. All for the price of 25 pounds, that is a steal. It was the most magical musical masterpiece I have ever experienced. The front row was far away enough to save me from a strained neck. (Thanks to the positioning of the orchestra.) Yet we were close enough to identify each characters eye color. The intricate details of the costumes were immaculate; layers, and layers of beautiful hues of emerald, and sapphire. I even made eye contact with Elphba. It enabled me to connect with the characters in such a different way. Not only was I moved by the music, but by the sincerity of the acting. I was blown away by this once in a lifetime experience. Once the production was over I sat in my seat speechless. I needed a few moments to take in what I had just witnessed. I will admit the accent was a bit different. Never the less it was fabulous.

Miss Saenz, Mrs Bird, and Miss Fin

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It only seems wicked to me that this was my second time seeing Wicked with the help of my dear mother. I would like nothing more in the world than to go to Wicked with her. She has a great love for the music, and I know how badly she wants to see it. Many a time we have sat in the car and sang together the glorious soundtrack. It was charming to watch Mrs. Bird’s reaction to the musical considering it was her first time. As I watched my professor I missed my mother terribly. I felt this immense amount of guilt seeing it without my darling mother. I am determined to find away to take my mother dear to a Wicked production. We may just have to brave New York together.

What a wonderful day in London town! I do not think I can thank my parents enough for making this adventure possible. I am excited to see what tomorrow will bring.

Cheers!

Miss Fin