Happily Ever After

Now that BYU Hawaii decided to give me a chance to prove myself, I have no way of paying for the expenses which would allow me to do so.

So far, I have sixty dollars in college savings. And I just finished filling out my FAFSA and I don't get nearly as much as I hoped for, but at least I get something, right?

Something is better than nothing.

I never have enough money. Why? Well, I could place the blame on a number of components in my life which prevent me from saving anything, but what's the point? Doesn't matter whose fault it is, because after all, it is still my problem. But who needs money, anyway?

Money can't buy happiness. But money can buy marshmallows which is almost the same thing.

I love marshmallows.

Why do I love marshmallows? Well, that's easy. I love them because they're more real than my thoughts. I hate movies, though; they're all staged. They make life look too unpretentious. But my thought process makes life look a little too burdensome. Who knows, maybe it is. 

I've noticed a common theme in many movies: happily ever after. But happily ever after doesn't come until the characters experience unexpected suffering, or at least that's what I think they should be like.  

Some people never live to see happily ever after. 

I'm still waiting; I've been waiting for years. My happily ever after can arrive anytime now, I won't complain, I promise. I think I've suffered long enough. In fact, if I made the decision of who did and didn't get happily ever after, I'd nominate myself for a happily ever after. By happily ever after, I mean that I yearn for everything to always be okay.



Speaking of my happily ever after, when will I get a job that thinks my aspirations are worth more than minimum wage?

I mean, c'mon, I make $7.25 an hour at the Domino's, and because of my last dreary days in high school, I can only work on the weekends for about an average of 4 hours a week. And I keep forgetting to set up direct deposit, so I get paid through an ATM card where I have to pay money to get my own, hard-earned money, and I can never get all of the money off of that stupid ATM card. How cheap, Domino's; give me a raise already! Oh, and twice a week, I get paid $20 for cleaning my uncle's repugnant apartment. Both of these small, tedious part-time jobs of mine pay for mostly gas money for my commute from Eagle Mountain to Orem.

My commute:

I make the same commute everyday.

Plus, besides gas, I have inordinate school fees which must be paid before the former school nurse, my director, can shake my hand and fork over my diploma. And I must incorporate school sponsored activities such as school dances, senior nights and food. I'm never home, so I never eat at home. 

Anyways, back to my point: Life is so exorbitant. Way too exorbitant. But maybe that's why life is so beautiful; life is what you make it.

Life isn't fair. Maybe that's why my happily ever after has yet to be dropped on my doorstep. I should really consider the money I do have as a blessing, because after all, not every teenager can get a job at the Domino's, and work for a whopping $7.25/hour. Maybe if I were more grateful, the universe would consider giving me my happily ever after.

If you haven't already connected the dots, I will leave for Hawaii in less than half of a year.

I think that by now, more than 47 people have notified me of how expensive Hawaii will be. Really? You're telling me? Uh, I don't know, I'm only going to live there! I've done my research, people. And as you read before, I have a good $60 saved, so lay off. But there's still summer too. And the rest of the school year. And I have an entire life time to make a living, so why worry so much about the money? I worry more about wasting my time on the beach instead of making my way to Freshmen English.

 No one in Hawaii is wealthy, everyone barely scrapes by. At least that's what one of my life mentors said. Alls I need to do is find a friend with a car, and everything will be okay. I'm so scared; I'm terrified.

But who cares that I'm scared. I mean, I'm supposed to be scared, right? This is normal...I think.

I don't know. Maybe I'll get my happily ever after in Hawaii. Maybe that's why I'm supposed to go. 

Everything Will Be Ok

When the notification ringtone sounded on my phone, I glanced down at my cracked phone screen, and to my surprise, I had received an email from the BYU CES-Applications. My heart pounded like a drum in some punk-rock teenage boy band while I refrained from opening the email that would determine the rest of my life. I took a deep breath while every muscle in my body tightened with an indubitable fear of opening an "you're not good enough for us" rejection letter from the university of my dreams, BYU Hawaii. (Just so you know, I literally dream about BYU Hawaii)

Weeks before I even received a response, I had thought about what I would do if BYU Hawaii didn't accept me, and I assured myself that they wouldn't accept me. Every alternative kept my mind engaged long hours into the night. I had to sketch many decision-making charts in my head to help come up with the best solution possible. After giving much thought into my options, I came up with a few pathetic alternatives to my dream life in Hawaii:

1. Run away to Ecuador and serve for nine months, or

2. Go to USU and feel miserable.

Everything in my life seemed unsatisfactory.

For a while, my parents didn't support me, actually, nobody supported me in any of my decisions, especially BYU Hawaii. However, they did approve USU, but only because they wanted proximity. They wanted me to stay close. A little too close, if you ask me. The only cheerleader who root for me on my side of the field was my AP Language Composition teacher, and she's the one who convinced me to apply for BYU Hawaii in the first place. She has told many stories about driving around the island while listening to music so loud that the speakers in her car would almost explode. I've heard stories about meeting, or stocking, some of the most musically famous somebodies at the beach: Jack Johnson, Justin Beiber, and a few others which I do not recall. Her reaction to life is so laid back. She inspires me daily and she doesn't even know it. The most important thing she has ever told me will stick with me for the rest of my life: Everything will always be okay. All of my life mentors have told me so. Truth must linger in such a statement. If not, well, my life mentors wouldn't be mentors at all, would they?

It interests me to know that two of my three life mentors have no idea of how much influence they my decisions and my life as a whole. Life is so astonishing; life is breathtaking; life is overwhelming. They teach me so everyday. Intriguingly enough, my life mentors happen to be my English teachers. I don't know why I chose them, but I do know that I am extremely strict and skeptical when it comes to selecting my life mentors. And maybe my mentors will change as I get older, but I highly doubt that one will ever be eliminated from the list. They're too brilliant. I owe them at least that much.

If you have never selected a life mentor, I advise you to do so. Choose a good one, and better that you find one sooner than later. They will force you beyond your own confinements, and by doing so, they will save you from physical, mental and spiritual destruction. One cannot simply live an effective life without any life mentors, kind of like how sports teams can't function without a good coach. Your mentors are your coaches, so choose wisely.

The other day, I called my life mentor, Jaime. We talked about my college plans, about life. I told her about my dilemmas, I told her the alternatives of my dream life, and I told her that I'd rather run to Ecuador than go to USU. Of course I wouldn't go to Ecuador for the heck of it, I'd be working and doing humanitarian service there. Jaime strongly advised that I rethink that decision. She proposed an extremely imperative question to me:

"Why are you going?"

"If you're going because you want to get away, because you don't want to face the college life yet, you most certainly should not go. Now, if you're going for the right reasons, because you want to serve others, then go. Don't skip college now because you'll have to go eventually, and the longer you wait, the harder it will get."

It is rare that I would ever lie, especially to someone who means so much to me. I wanted Ecuador mostly because of its geographical location, and I could push college back another year if it meant I'd have to go to USU. After a long discussion on the who's and what's of life, she told me the same thing that all of my life mentors tell me: Everything will be okay.

Everything will be okay...

But what if everything isn't okay? What if I don't have enough money for college? What happens if  I don't graduate? What if I die tomorrow? Everything will be okay?

I think about that all of the time, and every time I acknowledge a life improvement, something bad happens. I thought that showing gratitude for what you have instead of disdain for what you don't have would make life better, not worse.

When will everything be okay?

I want that. I want it so bad. Oh, the things I would do to have reassuring feelings that everything will always be okay.

Two weeks ago, I didn't care about life; and then a baby choked and died, and a teenage boy at a local junior high committed suicide. Will everything be okay? For at least a week straight, all of my journal entries debated whether or not I wanted to live with pain or die without peace of mind. To be, or not to be, that was the question...

But after attending the funeral of the baby who choked and died, I understand that life is precious. Now I really know for myself that funerals can be so cathartic.

My problems seemed so insignificant. Everyone else had worse dilemmas than I did, or at least that's what my peers tried to tell me. Maybe I've over exaggerated my problems. Maybe my problems are actually solutions to a bigger, more conspicuous dilemma.

But if you were wondering, BYU Hawaii accepted me.

So,

Maybe everything will be okay.