...

Is it possible to live at Lake Powell whilst going to school in Salt Lake?

Let me know if you ever find out how and Holly will be glad to make you giant pumpkin chocolate chip cookies.

Sincerely, Rose

Never, never again

This summer has just been amazing. The best summer of my life, probably. Why, you ask? Well, let me just TELL you why right now. There is one reason and one reason only: summer school. That's right, I took summer school. Be impressed. Three beautifully educational classes that have increased my intellectual knowledge so much so that I feel like an entirely new person than I was even three months ago. I mean, who doesn't love reading the philosophical theories of Plato (Play-doh), Aristotle (Air-is-tottle), Saussure (Seh-sss-u-r-e), Freud (Fr-oi-d), Derrida (Dare-i-dah), Lacan (Luh-cawn), Marx (Mar-ks), Althusser (All-thoos-sss-air), Foucault (Foo-koh), Fanon (Fuh-non), Benjamin (Ben-ya-meen) and Jameson (Jame-es-son)? Not me, that's for sure. I love reading the essays of men who think they know everything there is to know about everything. And I love writing essays about the flawlessness of those theories, theories that I, of course, understood perfectly the first time I skimmed through them. Of course.

I finished these classes this past week and I am so sad. Depressed, even. I have to hang out with friends and do fun stuff instead of studying and doing the homework I always finished on time. I stay out late instead of going to bed early like I did every night when I had class. And I no longer get to look forward to sitting in class every Tuesday and Thursday acing quizzes and listening to the very interesting lectures of my professor that would enlighten my mind so much that I could barely keep from singing.

However, I find comfort in knowing that this leisurely time of my life must only torment me for two more weeks, because fall semester starts in just two weeks and I couldn't be more excited to start school all over again. In two weeks.

I can barely contain myself.

Happy Birthday Rosemary Grace!

Twenty years old, wow. I will now reciprocate Rose's kind remarks she made for my birthday by writing some of my favorite memories of Rosemary.

- At age 8, she vowed she would never eat chocolate ever again. Ha.

- Once, while in Lake Powell, we were catching lizards and the one Rose was holding decided to jump on her, crawl under her life jacket, and scare the living daylights out of her. I've never seen anyone strip off their life jacket that fast or seen her that scared in my entire life.

- We were always extremely productive when we had homework/study sessions together. There were never times that we laughed so hard we couldn't breathe. ;)

- We never fight. We really don't. But one time we did. While on a double date. We both thought we were right and the other was wrong about the driving directions. We stopped at a gas station, Rose and I went in the bathroom and laughed our heads off about how stupid we were being. Our dates, on the other hand, who were still in the car, were probably contemplating if it was their chance to make a run for it.

- Skiing with Rose. Heard a scream. Turned around. Saw her sprawled like a flying squirrel in the snow, head faced downhill. She started shaking. Pretty sure she was laughing at herself. May have been the best fall I've seen Rose have.

- Tubed down a run at Snowbird at 11 pm, went way too fast for our own good, thought we were going to lose our lives, screamed bloody murder the whole way down, had a good laugh afterwards.

Rosemary has been the best friend anyone could ask for. Extremely loyal, loves you no matter what, patient, good listener, fun, sarcastic, talented, intelligent, athletic, best ski buddy, strong in the gospel, she has made me a better person. So thank you Rose, I'm looking forward to the future, it's going to be a blast!

Love,
Holly

It's Just Difficult

Hello people. I know what you're thinking: "How come Holly never blogs about anything? It's always Rose writing about meaningless mumbo jumbo." Well, I am pledging to start posting on the blog more often because if I don't, Rose will leave me. It's just that nothing exciting happens in my life! I work at Eyemaster's all the day long and the most boring people come in so I never have funny stories to tell about customers. And then at night, instead of staying at home and playing on my new Macbook and being lame, people make me go on hikes, or go bowling, or roast marshmallows, or go star gazing, or boat at Bear Lake, or play murder in the dark for three hours at a time, for crying out loud.

See? My life is sooo boring. I mean, never would I think to blog about a good movie I've seen or a good book, my sibling's birthdays or random stuff like that. Blog posts have to be exciting and funny, all the time. ALL THE TIME. And I hate to smile and laugh, not to mention making others smile and laugh. I challenge you all to a stare down. But I'm trying to change. Bear with me, be patient. It'll take some time. Lots of time. Or here's a thought: maybe I just have better things to do than post my life on a blog. Probably not though. Probably not.

(this was posted by Rosemary to try to motivate H. Nelson to not be so lazy about blogging. everything said in the post was said out of the utmost care and love I have for Holly, although said with rampant sarcasm. i am not a mean or vindictive person)

The Last of the Little Guys

Sunday was this young one's 12th birthday. We've been celebrating it for about four days because we love him so much. What can I say, the kid makes us laugh.

A few things to know about him:

He can make really ugly faces. Really ugly. You don't even have to ask.
He's a darn good wakeboarder and skier.
He's bound to be the next Itzak Perlman.
He may also be the next Charlton Heston.
He can take Andrew down. (slight weight difference)
He's quite the yo-yo man, probably the best 12 year old yo-yo-er in the Salt Lake Valley.
And he's just a really great person who includes everyone and is an awesome friend and little brother.

Something about being a Campbell...

...a Campbell girl, at least. And some of the boys. For some reason, we all love Harry Potter, we all wish we went to Hogwarts, and we all love Lord of the Rings and wish we were hobbits. Too short to be elves. Maybe it's our Scottish heritage of living in castles and brutally conquering our minions, rebelling and pillaging land. How that all factors into a love of magical, mythical storytelling, I'm not sure. But this love exists in the Campbell family, probably coming down the line through our fathers who introduced us to Mr. Tolkien's literature and our later discovery of Ms. Rowling. We took it from there. Want proof? Cousin Sarah is in love with Harry (understandable). Cousin Amy is a fan of Professor Snape (not really sure...). Sister Caroline thinks Draco is attractive (also not really sure...) and Cousin Anna, well, Anna would probably get along well with Ginny Weasley (both quite sarcastically funny, Anna more so). Cousin Matt can do an eerily accurate impression of Gollum, or so we hear (he's never shown us). And I've been told I strongly resemble Hermione (the book Hermione, because of my mane of hair). Brothers Stephen, Andrew and Spencer...well, they're the most hobbit-like Campbell's yet, something they may or may not grow out of (their feet indicate they won't)(so hairy).

I do recall a Christmas family gathering where Sarah enthusiastically told us about a film crew in New Zealand hiring extras to be hobbits and that we should go. Wasn't a joke. She also claims to know the language of the Elves.

I remember another holiday gathering where we watched a movie of Amy's making in which she was Frodo Baggins, on a quest to Mordor. Her hairdo made for an uncanny resemblance.

I remember sitting on a couch for 14 hours, watching all three extended films of the Lord of the Rings trilogy in one sitting with some friends.

We've read the books. And read them. And read them. When the last few Harry Potter books came out, my family had to buy multiple copies of each one so no fist fights would break out over whose turn it was to read.

Needless to say, we are nerds.

But. This is who we are. You know who we wish to be. Want to be our friend? Buy us a flying broomstick or whistle beautifully into the wind for your white stallion. We'll ride/fly away happily into the sunset. Because we haven't yet learned to apparate.

Allegiance

Freedom to worship.
Freedom to change.
Freedom to protest.

Freedom to defend.

Freedom to speak.

Freedom to travel.
Freedom to create.
Freedom to agree.
Freedom to learn.
Freedom to think.
Freedom to hope.
Freedom to trust.
Freedom to read.
Freedom to vote.
Freedom to own.
Freedom to love.

Freedom to live.

Why are you proud to be an American?

Happy 4th of July, everyone:)

*Picture from Matt Ehrsam Designs