The number of attractive men you see on campus is inversely related to how good you look.

It's crazy to think that it's already the end of my freshman year of college.  It feels like yesterday that I stepped off the plane in Salt Lake, freaking out at the baggage claim and hoping that none of my suitcases had gotten lost or stolen on the flight over from Sao Paulo.  I mean, my entire life was in those suitcases.  I probably would have died if a single pair of shoes had been misplaced.

Amy and her (and soon to be my) friend Kristi picked me up from the airport.  I was excited, but nervous at the same time.  Here I was, a 17 year old girl, starting a new life all on my own.  The drive from the airport to Provo was long.  I was anxious and restless, and there's nothing to really look at in Utah besides dirt.  We finally got to Provo and made an unforgettable stop at Denny's.  It was probably the highlight of my year.  But actually probably not.  But maybe it was in the top ten.  Basically what happened was I drank a lot of root beer.  I had been deprived of root beer for a month because Brazilians don't believe in it.  So by supplying me with free root beer refills, Denny's was basically saying "WELCOME HOME TO AMERICA, EMMA!"  Well this is quickly escalating into an "I love root beer" post which was not the original intent.  So anyway.

Fast forward a couple of months.  Classes have started, I'm finally learning my way around campus, I've been called to be the ward choir pianist, and I'm starting to understand all of BYU's inside jokes.



I'm can even recognize some of the people from my classes!

Tweet from January 7, 2013:  THE GUY WHO ALWAYS PLAYED WITH HIS TOES FROM MY PSYCH CLASS IS HERE LIKE CAN HE JUST GO AWAY HONESTLY WHYYYYYYYYYYYY I'M GOING TO THROW UP.

The whole food/cooking for myself situation is going really well too.  There have been a few slight bumps in the road (chunky milk, moldy bread, etc.), but for the most part, I've done pretty well.  I made salmon, BBQ chicken, and even my first pot roast!  I think my mom was worried that I wouldn't be the best cook (I did almost light the kitchen on fire at home one time when I was trying to make chicken), but I think I've turned out okay.  :)


I think my dad's main concern was that I wouldn't be able to wake myself up in time for class.  I can understand why, I guess.  He was the only reason that I ever got out of bed in time during high school.  He would come into my room every morning, turn on my bathroom light, and stand in my doorway looking like Frankenstein until I got out of bed.  But I found a way around the system and my mornings usually went like this: dad appears and won't leave. get out of bed. dad leaves. as soon as dad leaves, get back in bed.  So yeah, I can see where he's coming from.  But aside from the one time that I slept in and missed four classes and the two times that I slept right through and missed church...and the couple times that I slept through ward prayer, I've done a very good job of getting my butt out of bed for my 8 AM classes.

So yeah, freshman year has been cool and fun.  But the most important lesson I've learned is not how to find the determinant of a matrix or what the rule of law is, it's simply that the number of attractive men you see on campus is inversely related to how good you look.  In other words, the worse you look, the more hot men you will see.  If you actually take the time to curl your hair, do your makeup, and put on jeans, you are guaranteeing that you will only see boys who look like this:


And trust me, this theory is 100% true.  I've proven it multiple times and have yet to receive contradicting evidence.

xoxo.