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From Our Front Porch Looking In

I would bet it is safe to assume that anyone who went to high school gets nostalgic sometime in the month of May. My nostalgia is present for most of the month of May. I love that every time I walk outside it smells like the end of a school year. I love walking outside around 3 o'clock and remembering when I would pull up from school or work to see Mom on her hands and knees in the flower patch--or crossing the street from the garden, and the kids would be jumping on the trampoline, because who really cares about homework at the end of a year? I love that I still assume teachers are more laid back when it gets even remotely warm. I love remembering high school during May--especially my Senior year. I think it took me until I was a Senior to fully appreciate the high school experience. So, it's what stands out most.

Some things I remember:
**Jess and I would sit by TJ Adams in Concurrent English. He was the only one that wouldn't get offended by our sarcasm, and he pretended he was partially interested in our petty conversations. His comments about other people were highly entertaining. As was his poem about romantic rain, or when he tried to read aloud from Beowulf. The fact that Lynda called on him to read every time assured me of her sense of humor.
(In Lynda's class; she may or may not have been lecturing)
**Pandi Elison always claimed to despise me, although I was sure it was just a threat (now I'm not so sure). She would complain that her computer had it out for her; she would randomize a new seating chart and it would always put me right in the front row (right by her podium) or next to Brooks Moser (we had to be the biggest nightmare when we were next to each other in that class), or worse--Brooks AND me together on the front row.

(Me, Brooks, Jess at graduation practice; Brooks-very sarcastically nicknamed the 'Genius'-and I had a love/hate relationship)

**Mocking Michael Kelley's walk in the cafeteria. That poor kid, I put him through a lot. One time, a sign was magically posted on his locker that read, "Is Michael a good kisser? Check 'Yes' or 'No'" He didn't appreciate the creativity, or the fact we were just trying to help. The night of our all night party after graduation, Michael hopped in the Jump Kings with us. He would push us down, or hit us until we fell (too tired to fight back). We would laugh like 3-year-olds and get back up, only to have him do it again. I'm pretty sure he was taking out a serious amount of pent up rage from that year.

**Dressing up for all sporting events in school colors. Especially sporting our 'Mr. Universe' t-shirts. These were made to poke fun at Brooks Moser (I made a comment one day that he acted like he was God's gift to the universe--thus, 'Mr. Universe'). Brett would get so angry when we would lose, whether she was playing or not. Then, of course, you have to hit up Big J's (this was especially important after a good basketball game, you'd get free fries). Banana/brownie shakes are superb after a good win. One night that especially stands out is the night Brooks indulged at our table; he was attempting to explain Michael--the best he could do, "Well, Mike's a fag. That's why we call him--'the fag.'" He was always so good with words.


(Preston Pride, it's a necessity)

**Wearing my pink sweat pants (that were too short because they had been dried), or my yoga pants to school almost everyday--just because I could. Just because I could not care that much.

**Lynda Hamblin. My hero, but nobody tell her. I worked really hard at trying to keep my nonchalant-don't care about English-can't hear your lectures cause I'm talking too loud-reputation. Also, don't let her know I'm now majoring in English--mostly because of her.


(There are no words for how much I adore this picture; I can say that I don't think I deserved a hug after what I put her through that year)

**Michele complaining about her overly large ribs. Yes, this is the only thing she has to complain about on her otherwise perfect body. Heaven forbid, large ribs.

**Jess and I hanging out in the Exec. room, acting like our opinion mattered. I'm pretty sure we decided where prom was held, what the theme song was, and what DJs would come to dances. We spent hours decorating for election week, drawing on sidewalks, painting windows, etc. Ask me if I was in anyway on the Executive Council. (The answer is no.)

**The last football game it poured rain the whole game.


(Salena and I after the game. Thanks for that last touchdown, Brooksy, it would have been pretty awful if we had lost after all that)


**Washington DC with the Close Up Foundation. Cami Cole didn't wash her feet for at least a week, and I had to share a bed with her; Mr. Womack was the teacher that accompanied us; Brittin got locked in the bathroom on the bus--enough said.

(Cami, me, and Teddy; yes, those are gems on my pants, and I am 17 years old in this picture)


**Speaking at Seminary Graduation (pretty sure that was Brother Pugmire's way of getting back at me for laying on the floor everyday during class my sophomore year).


**Mrs. Anderson yelling at us everyday. For being a French teacher, she sure could swear in English. I did learn a poem about a beautiful castle...and how to count backward from five in French (she would make us count down with her when we were being too loud).

**Miss Elison not giving me my diploma at graduation. She always has to have the last word.

**Nerve wracking Senior Projects. Well, I think they were supposed to be, I wrote my paper the night before. I did a blood drive and couldn't even donate because I was so anxious-my pulse was too high, due to the strep throat I had picked up just in time.

(TJ and Michael were all to willing to volunteer to get out of class)


**Dodge frantically scurrying the halls, scrambling to pull together activities or assemblies. Michael Kelley begging him to swear, just once.


(Dodge, Me, and Jess-notice, he's on the run, like always)

**The senior assembly that totally flopped. The slide show didn't start for at least a half hour, and half of it was depressing. They took away the 'lighting your own candle' idea, and made us use flashlight candles. Most of the class carried them across the stage in their fist, upside down.

I can't say I would repeat High School. I am lucky enough to look back with very few regrets. But, I do love remembering it. I love looking back at more carefree, relaxed time.
Don't think I don't think about it.
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Last weekend Tanya and I trekked to P-town. How I love my home, sweet home. The family didn't come until Saturday (Haylee was rockin' it at state track, yet again.). On Friday night we enjoyed a bike ride, ate at Big J's (how I've longed to be reunited with those cheesy bread sticks), went to Michele's bridal shower (which was fantastic, yet almost heart breaking for me), and watched a movie without the stress of homework on the back of our minds.
On Saturday we woke up (at a really late hour), made some breakfast, I wrote a last minute paper, then we went on a scooter ride to my grammy's until my parents got home. It was a rough couple days...

The looks we got from the neighborhood were pretty funny. When they realized it was me, they just disregarded, I'm sure.
Then the family got home. This is what spending an evening, bored, with Morgan, will do.


We were sitting on the couch and I asked Tanya and Morgan what we should do. Tanya shrugged and said, "Whatever!" Morgan sat there for a minute, cross legged on the coffee table, when all of a sudden her head shot up and said, "I know what we can do! Tanya! Do you have roller blades?!" Of course Tanya didn't (she must have forgotten to pack them for the weekend), and we didn't have any adult sizes. So, we made do. If I thought I got weird looks for riding a scooter, I was wrong. Morgan got some pretty hilarious ones. Being towed with a literal tow rope, hooked to a Razor scooter, behind a hearse will do that for you. That is, until they realized it was Morgan (that excuses everything).
We had a great weekend at home. Needless to say, Tanya and I are going to purchase ourselves some scooters this week.
I'm hoping to find a lime green one.
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Someone in our apartment had the idea to take roommate pictures. Needless to say, I was not the most compliant. The four girls were getting a little irritated with Tanya and me. It all started when they told us we could wear whatever we wanted, as long as it reflected us. I immediately demanded I was wearing sweatpants. It took some major convincing, but I finally consented to wearing jeans. By the time we got up there, they were convinced we weren't taking it seriously. I don't know why they would think that?
We may or may not have been mocking the idea slightly by pretending to take engagement pictures. I thought this one was creative. Any photographer would use this for their website, I'm sure of it.
Another engagement picture. It appears we tried the "off in the distance" thing, but the fact I'm hugging myself is a little distracting from the effect.
Apparently we missed the memo about the whole piggy-back thing...thus, ruining the picture (and cracking ourselves up while we're at it).
Discussing. Pretty sure they were lecturing us.
Then, they just gave in. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em. It's a lot more fun that way.
Left to Right: Kait, Olivia, Tanya, Lauren, Taylor, Me
We ended up feeling guilty, and cooperated for a few.

Tom, Kait's fiance who was taking the pictures, got a little creative. Pretty impressive right?
Attempting to be statue-like. Tanya made the comment that these are possible the most awkward statues ever.
I do love my roommates this semester, even if they do make me take roommate pictures. We are all totally different, but that's what keeps us laughing, on our toes.
"We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere." --Tim Mcgraw

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On Saturday we went on a hike as roommates (and Heidi). We headed out to 'R' mountain for my second go-around this semester. I was hoping it would somehow be a little less steep, but it didn't happen. It did turn out to be a ton of fun with all of the girls though!


Lauren loves to take pictures. And when I say loves, I mean L-O-V-E-S to take pictures. We kept looking back wondering what was taking so long, and turns out it was just the camera. We love her, and her documentation of our every move.
Part of our hike did indeed look like this. I think we may have taken a wrong turn somewhere...I don't remember it being this steep. Heidi kept screaming, "I'm gonna be sick! I'm so nauseated! Literally, I'm going to spew everywhere!" I stood at the bottom for a good 3 minutes proclaiming I was moving into the base of the mountains and not moving; they could bring me food there for the next 5 years, until I got the guts to climb this beast.
But we all survived. And remained thug. Of course.

Like I said, Lauren really likes pictures--thus, she has a really cool camera, that has really cool effects. My mom won't be surprised, but it seems I wasn't blessed with the gift of grace. Instead of landing on my feet after this picture (like the rest of the population would do off a 3 foot jump), I landed on my knees. Literally. I didn't even land on my feet, then fall to my knees. I landed on my knees. Pretty embarrassing.
We thought it appropriate to take a "girls camp" picture. Every hike needs one.
Again, Lauren.
Great Saturday bonding with the girls, great work out, what more could you want?
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Here's a shout out to the woman who I am forever indebted to. She rocks. Everyone that knows her agrees; I know this because they tell me. I am always being told how much people appreciate my mom. How hilarious she is, how helpful she is, how willing, how concerned, how understanding, how strong, how spiritual. I could go on.
I watch my mom, tough as nails, going through things that the average person would cringe simply imagining, but she's not average. She highly exceeds all expectations in all she does.
When dad got sick a couple of years ago, I called her at the hospital to let her know all was well at the house, that I was going to hit the sack, and find out her plan. She let me know she would be home in a few minutes to try and get some sleep. She then told me how grateful she was for me. I remember being shocked. Why would she be grateful for me? She was the one pulling the family, bareback. She was getting the kids to school, making calls to the neighbors, family, and friends--and never leaving my dad's side. I can't imagine what was going on inside her. All I was doing was eating the casseroles that were being provided almost hourly. Being me, I never told her how amazing she is--how it totally floors me sometimes to watch her, how in awe I am. So, now I would like to. Mom, you are amazing. I wish I could say it in a more eloquent way.

(Mom on Christmas 2008)
Good ol' Andrea runs marathons, and drives faster than dad, and shovels the sidewalks, and lays her own slate floor at the same time she is re-rocking the fireplace and remodeling the kitchen, and paints the whole house (and everybody else's), and decorates for weddings, and raises seven (somewhat intolerable) children, and goes to all sporting events, and fulfills her callings in the church, and supports and sustains a husband who overdoes everything he does, and keeps in touch with family, and plans vacations, and deals with legal issues, and still makes homemade bread (her signature), and remembers every one's "favorites," and keeps up the yard, and watches the NCAA tournament like it's the last one, and gardens, (Well into October, I might add--well after frost has hit. Find me someone else that covers their tomatoes for 2 months in Idaho weather.), and volunteers at the schools, and finds good deals shopping (our cereal variety competes with Albertson's), and still looks young...
You think you get it, but you don't. You don't get it because that is only a glimpse. I dare you to find a better mom. Dare you. It's impossible.
Mom, because I'm awful at doing it at the right time, I love you. I'm more than grateful for you everyday-for more reasons than can ever be named. Thanks for being my mom.
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I love this song by Tracy Lawrence. The beginning and chorus goes something like, "Run your car off the side of the road, get stuck in a ditch way out in the middle of nowhere, or get yourself in a bind-lose the shirt off your back, need a floor, need a couch, need a bus fare: this is where the rubber meets the road, this is where the cream is gonna rise, this is what you really didn't know, this is where the truth don't lie. You find out who your friends are. Some body's gonna drop everything, run out and crank up their car, hit the gas, get there fast. Never stop to think, 'What's in it for me?' or, 'It's way too far.' They just show up with their big ol' heart. You find out who your friends are."

My friends prove themselves daily.

**They listen to my hour long stories about my horribly boring life.

**Watch country music videos on YouTube with me for hours.

**Call me when I accuse them of being mad an me for no legit reason, over a text message.

**Care about my dying car as much as I do.

**Buy me fruit snacks, just cause they know how much I love them.

And everything in between, and beyond.
I've found out who my friends are.
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Tonight was a big deal, a huge marker, the beginning of summer. Tonight I got my first snow cone of the year. Yes. It was phenomenal.

I had a stressful day. Work was so busy, school is so, so busy. Then, I found out we were supposed to be feeding 17 tonight, and I was cooking. I found that out about 2:00.

Needless to say, the fact that the snow cone shack opened last night is a testimony of a higher power. Tonight was the best night to get a snow cone (despite the fact it's on the verge of snowing here).
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This last weekend Haylee went to prom with Wyatt. I'm pretty sure Wyatt is her lover. At least that's what her phone says. Haylee asked me to come home to help her get ready for the big date. I don't know why she thought this was a good idea; I mean my favorite outfit is my over sized sweat pants and USU football hoodie.

When I got home I was pretty tense. It was finals week at one school, overlapping with the beginning of another semester, and she hadn't found a picture of how she wanted her hair. Not gonna lie, we started out pretty rocky. Actually, I probably more like flaming lava rocks...but we're sisters and love each other in the end.

The process, for the second time. Everyone knows you have to do a practice round, so we spend a lot of time in Haylee's bathroom that day. The second time went a lot smoother.

Wyatt and Haylee. Easily the most adorable couple. It helps my sister is a beauty queen naturally. It made my job terribly easy.

Classic 'getting into the car' picture. Everyone has to have one.

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This semester I am taking all online classes-mostly so I can keep my job. Trying to figure out what the professors expect is kind of rough at the beginning of any semester, let along online. But, I'm doing it. Slowly.

I'm taking a grammar class. Yeah, that's exactly what I thought: disgusting. In this class there are three quizzes every week. You can retake the quizzes as many times as you want and it keeps your highest score. Being me (being a Harrison), I tried about 16 times on the same quiz and kept missing one. This was just not OK. I mean, with the opportunity to get 100%...why not get it?

I came home this weekend to help Haylee get ready for prom. So, last night I headed down to Julie's, pleading for help. Poor Julie, she got sucked in too. We got stuck on the comma quiz. We attempted multiple times, only to get the same results, if not worse every now and then. After about an hour, Julie started muttering things under her breath, she even admitted to considering swearing. I was past the point of consideration.

On one of the last attempts, as she hit submit, Julie muttered, "I'll comma him!"

We settled for the 19/20. All I've got to say is: Thanks, for, letting, me, share, the, torture, Julie!
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About Me

Hi! I'm Alyssa, the voice of this blog. I'm a passionate homebody, lover of Diet Coke, good books, and laughing until I cry.

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