"Do you like hip-hop? I got an album --- and I never shot nobody."

So sometimes I miss Hawaii. I miss the lazy, dream-filled nights. I miss the random connections we made with the people at the hostels. The people with whom our paths crossed for that miniscule moment in time. I miss hiking around mountains and being inches away from the edge of the cliff - hiking for hours until suddenly the waterfall appears and makes the 2 hours in the rain worth it. Conversations on hotel rooftops. Being in flip-flops and a bathing suit, no matter where or when it is. I miss not having to be somewhere at a specific time. Stretching out on the beach with a book that I don't actually have to think about reading. Hammocks made out of parachutes. Riding on the bus and not caring how long it takes to get there. I miss the friendly alohas and the breathtaking flowers. I miss the sound of the waves.

But then, I come back to Provo and realize how much I've missed the deadlines, and the pressure, and the stress. (I know, I'm crazy. But I secretly love having a semi-fast-paced life.) And the sense of pride. And my bed. And hot showers. And not having sand in every single crevice of my skin and on every article of clothing I own. I missed Grover and being able to drive (not that I'm able to drive now anyways......) I missed face-to-face conversations - somehow texting and phone calls don't make the cut after awhile.

However. I did not and do not and will not miss from both Hawaii AND Provo: grades, offices, big casts on my leg that make me walk 103293483920 times slower than normal, singles wards, creepy old men offering me a shack to stay in, creepy old men telling me about the 14 times he saw Jesus on Larry King, creepy old men telling me how he hates Christians, creepy old men telling me that I could be wife #5, drunk spaniards, $2 value menus, and linear algebra.

On a completely different note, I love BYU football.