I'm gonna make this place your home

I've been so excited for freedom, for liberation.
And I got my first taste today.
However, it started with a moment of anxiety. We packed the boxes in the car and drove 5 minutes down the road which ended up seeming like eternity. Passed all the familiar sights, Timpview, Days, the MTC, the temple, and then we finally ended up in the parking lot. And I kid you not, I was holding back tears. In a moment of weakness, I was milliseconds away from telling my mom to turn the car around and unpack everything and get a refund for it all. I can't do this, I thought. I just. Can't. Do. This.
Reality hit me like Chuck Norris gave me a high five. I didn't want to give up my childhood. Because I realized that from this point forward, I really am not a child anymore. But as I settled down and got everything (mostly) unpacked, I got a hold on life. It won't be easy, that's for sure, but I've done harder things and I can work through this.

I don't know why this matters at all, but I just thought this was pretty funny due to the fact that I was probably the most excited of anyone in the world to move out and rebel and stick it to the man and not listen to my parents, and I almost called it all off. Anywho, continue on with life and go back to your business, because I know the rest of the world already has.
Toodaloo

This unfamiliar road

I move out tomorrow. TOMORROW PEOPLE. Harumph.
And the harsh reality that I won't be coming home to my own comfy bed and a home-cooked meal made by madre everyday is setting in with a twinge of anxiety, fear, and anticipation all wrapped up in a little burrito. Within the past couple of days, there are things that happen at my house that I realize are very important to me; they're the things I will miss the most, such as:

-Coming home from a long day of work, and crashing on the couch downstairs to watch Dance Mom's or Hawaii Five-O reruns with the madre.
-Falling asleep on said couch and waking up at 1 am to go back upstairs to my real bed.
-Watching YouTube videos with Andy till we die laughing.
-Playing Guitar Hero with Shankapottamus.
-Impromptu trips for food to Wendy's or Cafe Rio or pizza with the big brother because we're hungry.
-Driving home after school and seeing Nacho rolling around on the concrete front step because he's stupid.
-Hot tubbing till 3 a.m. with my best friend.
-Working on sewing projects with madre.
-My mom telling me to clean my room about 50 times a day.
-Answering the phone and people thinking it's madre, so they continue their conversation as I try hopelessly to correct them.
-The construction on Quail. Oh wait, no I won't...
-Being able to drop everything I'm doing and instantaneously go babysit the chilluns when Shan texts me. I've essentially watched them grow up and I don't want to miss out on anything.
-Crazy family parties/dinners
-Family band practice.
-Teaching my primary class.
-Sunday pot roast dinners.
-Mom always knowing which drug I should take to feel better.
-Mom editing my papers when I can't take school anymore.
-DI Thursdays with Snels.
-Playing my clarinet basically everyday.
-Sitting on my deck, reading a book and trying to sun tan because I think since I live on a mountain, I'm closer to the sun and more likely to get brown (which btdubs isn't always true)
-My mom saying, "Oooooh, I like that song. Can you get that for me for free?"
"Why, yes Mom. Of course I can."
-Random family conversations where we all end up making fun of each other.
-Kevin being the only laughing at my jokes and comments because he's the only one apparently who thinks I'm funny.
-Heart to hearts with Lt. Dan.
-The fact that no one around me will know what COS means (change of subject, beeteeduubs)

Hey guess what? We're all still best friends. Even since freshman year.

good thing we grew up or something like that.....

And heaven knows, I'm not that girl

"Do you miss it?"

"No, not really."

"But you were so good! You really were improving!"

"No, not really."

"Yeah, I guess you weren't good enough anyways....."

"So I heard you were offered a full time job at the bookstore?"

"Yeah. I'm really excited! They really like me."

"But did you hear that [insert name here] got TWO FIRST PLACES!? We're so proud of her. It really just shows how hard she's been working.She's going to college to dance and that's alright!"

Are you kidding me? 

But why should I be surprised?

You have such a talent to, without fail, turn every conversation 180 degrees in the other direction and talk about your other favorite teenage girl. How do I say how I feel? 

Can't you accept the fact that I, like many other normal and successful students, am going to college for an education and to get a life.

I refuse to waste my time.

and my parent's money. 

If that's the way you want me to live my life, you will be spending ETERNITY telling me how to do it. I will never choose that path. I am me, and you can't change that. 

So if I hear another word about anything related to "ballroom", be prepared for my eyes to roll and me to leave the room before I explode.

Good day.

I said, good day.

hello world

"I hate children. I never want kids."



......................................................................
Okay that's not really true. But that did indeed regretfully come out of my mouth when my mom asked me how primary went on my 2nd week of being an officially called primary teacher of the Valiant 9's.

Here me out: I really do love kids. But sometimes there are situations where I have absolutely no idea what to do. Like today for example. Let me introduce you to our problem child - David*.

David hadn't shown up to class for a couple of weeks, so I hadn't had the chance to teach him yet. Multiple adults, upon finding out I taught David's age group, even went as far as to warn me about him. But being a cousin and babysitter to some crazy chilluns, I figured I could handle him.
Boy, was I wrong.
I felt embarrassed that I was his teacher and couldn't control him. On the other hand, no one really could. The primary presidency had to intervene a couple times and I even found myself praying, "Please, Heavenly Father, never let me have a child like David." Horrible. I know. I'll repent someday. But I even went as far as to take away the treats I promised because most of them were irreverent and rowdy. I know, I'm supes mean.

But don't you see? THIS, my friends, is why I believe I shouldn't be a teacher. Sitting directly in with a whole class of children, none of whom you can choose, all of which I'm responsible for their education. Random youngsters who may or may not want to be there learning from you. What if one of the rascals was problematic and a rabble rouser like young David? WHAT WOULD I DO?? I guess I think that sometimes it will be one of those 'miracle cases' or something from a movie where all the sudden we will just get along and I'll understand the kid and he'll listen to me and he'll one day grow up and become the President. Which, hey, if it happens, it happens, and I'll try to help him get there if that's what he wants.


On the much brighter side, I love primary. I love the feeling I get in primary. I love the songs we sing in primary. I love it all. The spirit is so strong there - almost the strongest I've ever felt. Every time I hear the children sing songs like "I Am a Child of God" and "I Love to See the Temple" brings me close to tears. Honestly. The songs are so simple yet so true and reflecting back on them now as an adult when I can actually understand the meaning of it all brings me closer to my Heavenly Father and points me in the right direction. I am so grateful that the primary president took a chance on me and, knowing I would only be teaching for 6 weeks, gave me this opportunity. The kids are incredibly smart and amaze me each Sunday on what they know. I never thought I'd say this, but, they truly are examples to me. Yes, even David.







*Name changed for child's protection

18 years in her rearview

In a way, everyone owns a day; everyone has a day that is ALL their own. And the government can't take that away, those jerks. One day every year is YOURS. suuuhhhweet.

See that date up there? In the little corner?
Well that's mine.
Today was mine.
It was the Golden Birthday  they tell me. 18 on the 18th. Lucky me, man.
It was pretty great. Pretty magical.
Best birthday ever - it wasn't ruined like last year, I ate tons of free food till I was sick, my presents were stuff for college (HOLLA) and I was surprisingly okay with that.
I have the coolest adult friends now and we totally do cool adult things......

Only downside: my catch phrase is completely obsolete now. They can touch me now. and I can't touch them. *shudder* Oh wells. It was good while it lasted. Time to come up with a new one.

Let's now get soppy and reminiscent and stuff.
18 years has done me a lot of good. I'm proud of myself.
So,
happy birthday to meeeeeeeeee!


you know when people ask you if you feel different on your birthday, if you feel older?
Well, honestly, I DO. So eat that, minors. I'll explain it to you when you're older.

Knee deep in the hoopla

I can attest that these actually do happen.

For those of you who didn't know, I've been nannying for my cute cousins aged 12, 9, and 5 for five days. I've been playing single, working mother - running them to their multiple summer activities, nagging to practice the piano, preventing fights, playing pretty pretty princess, bedtime, bathtime, mealtime....the whole shabang.



I love kids, but let's just say I've suddenly come to the realization that as much as I want a family of my own someday, the key word is someday.

And for me, it's now later rather than sooner.

I had a dream.

and I thought, maybe I will get as much education as I can and not focus on marriage and children.

If I want a career, by darn, I will have a career and no man is going to stop me.

children will come when they're supposed to.

I've learned a lot about myself through this experience. Like the fact that I have a lot more to learn before becoming a mother. I need more patience. More nurturing. Putting their needs before mine. And the list goes on.

so here's to me and my future career.

whatever happens happens!

I spent my life becoming invisible

"Dear Nicole,

In case you didn't know, this is an alien talking...jk! This is your former self 10 years ago as a 13 year old. Amazing, huh? You are one cool cat. You had a great year, no matter how bad you thought your middle school years sucked. You're right though, 7th grade was one of the toughest years of your life so far, but you worked through it and had a specialrific 8th grade year. You worked hard for your grades, your friends, and your family. You worked for what you believed in (is that bragging? oh well!). You loved dance (although I hope you still do). And you wished good, nice, deserving people like yourself and your friends could have a chance at stardom or running the school. You played the clarinet and planned to be in marching band freshman year. You tryed out for dance at Timpview and didn't make it, but you wrote a letter persuading Timpview to add a Freshman Ballroom Team. We (or I) don't know if it worked yet, but will find out soon. Did it work? What ever happened, I'm glad you're me and I'm you. All the struggles and hardships, I am starting to realize, are for the better. Hopefully you have already realized it too. Be successful, cause you are planning my future and if it sucks, I'll come into the future and kill you...or not). Have fun, *follow your dreams*, and . . .

3,6,9, CAT!

Sincerely,

                           Nicole Marie Hopkinson

P.S. If you don't know or remember this, call Aubrey Snelson at 373-4343 for more information :)

oh and

P.P.S. I hope you finally accomplished your goal of getting better handwriting cause right now, it SUCKS!"

That was a little letter I wrote at the end of 8th grade in my English class. While cleaning my room for college, I found this, and even though I wasn't supposed to open it till May 27th, 2018, I did anyways. And I thought I'd write back a little reply to good ole 13 year old me....

"Dearest Nicole,

How great it was to hear from you! I was glad you wrote down all those details so as for us to remember it. You were one funny kid if I remember correctly (or at least we thought so). I'm sorry I opened up this letter early, but you know us - we never really had any patience. And you're right, you did work hard to find a place in this world after the tough move. And I'm proud of you - real proud. After all, you got me here today which is in a really good spot. Would you have ever imagined that you would have done all 4 years of marching AND symphonic band? Or that you were called to join the ballroom team and did all 4 years of that too? Yes, the Freshman Ballroom team worked, but not until the year after. But hey, you helped initiate and make those changes, so congrats! You were a fighter and you made some good decisions for us. Again, you're right about the struggles through life. And as smart as you were, you were still naive and, I'll be honest, stupid. But high school helped you grow up. You'd be happy to know you're going to BYU in the fall and you're life is finally falling into place. Good thing you learned early that boys are stupid.

But overall, you done good kid, you done good.

Love, yourself.

P.S. How could anyone forget 3,6,9, CAT?! Right, Aubrey? ;)

P.P.S. You really cared about that a lot, eh?