First gear. Let the clutch up slowly. Feed the gas. Ease into the momentum. Feel the engine roar. Push the clutch in, pop it into second. Cruising easy now. Keep my hand on the gear shift, foot on the clutch and gently on the gas.

Third gear. Roll the window down. Pop the clutch, fourth gear.

Turn up the radio, put on my sunglasses. Accelerate. Clutch in…

Dang it! Red light.

Sigh. Start over.


When I was 15, I went to Logan’s “Cruise In” Car show and Independence Day parade. I will never forget the excitement I felt as the LOUD cars and motorcycles cruised past us, revving their engines and showing off their spiffy paint jobs.

I was in love. With cars. Fast, loud cars. I quickly began learning most of the makes and models of the cars I loved. And at the top of my list was…wait for it…the Honda Prelude. I know. You’d think I would have chosen a Corvette, or a Porsche or a pimped out Jeep…but no, I fell in love with the Honda’s only sports car, the Prelude. I could spot them anywhere. Any year, and color, any condition.  This was the beginning of my obsession with nice, fast and yes, loud car/trucks. They just thrill me!

During High School, I drove an old grey 1987 Jeep Cherokee Laredo that my parents had purchased because we needed 4×4, what with living in an arctic tundra and all…I loved that Jeep, but I always wanted to remove its mud flaps and give it a suspension lift. Up the ante on the tires and of course, give it a paint job. The mud flaps always kept it too clean when I would attempt to go “mudding”. Can you picture it? Yup, I was a wild one, folks! My parents soon heard the cry of an embarrassed 16-year-old and took me and Dear Jeep to get a much-needed paint job. I chose a Bright and sparkly Burgundy Red. It was great! Then the day came when I was traveling over the mountain and I hit a deer. Ouch. Poor Jeepy! (Don’t worry, the deer died quickly.) I drove home with my radiator leaking and probably a lot of other damage that would later kill her. I drove around with smashed deer parts on my grill for a long time. It was SO COOL!

Fast forward to college. I was still in love with that little Prelude.  And my Dad, because he loves me so much, surprised me one day with a 1989 Honda Prelude. White, fully loaded and complete with a Moon Roof. We soon became fast friends. We’d go zipping around town, just she and I. My first Standard engine car, my first real love! My first 180 MPH. My first ticket. And my second. And third. I also had my first accident, but it was NOT my fault. I got backed into by some 16-year-old boy who had just gotten his license. And what’s worse is that we were both in the turning lane and he decided to back his big-butt VAN up…I honked, but my little car was not to be seen. Who backs up in a turning lane?! Arg! I digress. So after a smashed headlight and a little of my ego deflated (I can imagine what HIS felt like!), I continued to drive my little smashed car around. My roommate’s boyfriend fixed my car for $300 and we were again a happy and attractive duo, zipping and shifting and getting tickets left and right! Totally worth it. I loved that car.

But alas, my life took a change and I needed to sell her. Goodbye love. Good Bye Prelude. I was so sad when they stopped manufacturing them in 2001.

Other cars I have owned/driven:

Toyota Corolla
Chevy Malibu
Oldsmobile Alero (what was I thinking?!)
Honda Accord ’90 (Rita was her name, and I still miss her!)
Nissan Maxima
Toyota Tundra (Rick was his name. And he was LOUD and FAST and a complete impulse buy.)
Toyota Camry
Honda Accord (’00)
Toyota Prius (’06) Currently driving.

Right now, with two kids, we fit pretty snug in our little Prius. This car has been great. It is economical, gets great gas mileage (definitely better when my husband drives it) and works for what we need at this point in our lives. But when I’m dreaming, these are the cars I would love to give a spin:

1966 Corvette Stingray. (See Corvette link above) Actually, I have driven one of these. Very fast down the freeway. Almost lost its top! What a blast!

Porsche Boxster
Range Rover
Toyota FJ (Husband’s dream car)

and on the flip side:

I’m totally into the Volkswagen Westfalia camper vans right now. They are now collectors items here in the States. I recently saw one for sale around here. I immediately called on the van. Get this: 1988 van, rebuilt engine with low miles, decent condition selling for $14,000! Wowsa! I could get a NEW car for that!
If you live in the Netherlands or Holland, however, you CAN get a VW van- they still make them there! Read this article to learn about that.
Oh how I’d LOVE to tote my little family around in a VW van. My husband laughs, but I’m dead serious! If one day we happen to be resigned to being a “minivan” family (not saying there is anything wrong with that!) then I’d rather it be a COOL minivan!

In the mean time, I’ll just keep cruising around in my little Hybrid Prius and save my pennies.
PS – I still like to play “Name that Car” with whoever will challenge me. 🙂


First gear. Second. Third, feel the pull. Fourth, we’re opening up now. Fifth gear! Freedom!



In lieu of the 10 year anniversary of 9/11, I thought I would share some brief thoughts and memories concerning the matter.

1~ Has it really been 10 years?

2~ I still remember clearly turning on my radio to The End, 102.7 fm (it has since changed frequency) and hearing the DJ’s talk about an airplane crashing into the WTC.

3~ What the? I turned on the TV and watched as plane number two hit the second tower.

4~I remember the feeling of panic thinking, is this real? Do things like this really happen? And then just waiting for more information. I still went to school that day. I was at UVSC in Orem. Students lined the hallways and crowded around TVs everywhere. It was such an eerie feeling- people were not talking. Just watching. Taking it all in.

5~ I recall driving past a huge Honda dealership just the day before 9/11 and looking up at their giant American flag that was blowing majestically in the wind. I was overcome with a sense of patriotism and gratitude. I am so grateful I had that simple moment, a confirmation from the Spirit of my blessings living in this great country. I even took a picture. (Posted here)

6~ Later on that evening I sat with my roommates and listened to the comforting music from the Mormon Tabernacle Choir who had gathered for an impromptu concert. It was a  much needed relief from the banter of the rest of the news channels. We cried together and prayed for the people in NY.

7~Seeing the firefighters and other emergency personnel via video feed from Ground Zero was very touching. It still is.  I have not been able to keep my emotions in check whenever I see or hear of stories about our Service men and women in regard to the events on 9/11 as well as the War in Iraq. What an honorable profession and sacrifice. My heart says thank you for your selfless service.

8~So much has changed in 10 years. One day we will teach our children about these events, they will study them in school and I will be able to relate where I was when the towers went down.

9~I can’t help but wonder what else is coming.

10~No, I will never forget.


During my freshman year of college, I had a roommate who built her school schedule around the schedule of the soap opera called “Passions”.

I know.

Without fail she was home everyday just in time to turn on the tube, sit down with her bowl of Ramen and glue her eyes to the tele. Don’t even think about starting up a conversation, asking a question or blocking her view! Bad idea!

Although I felt her priority was a little skewed, I still felt her commitment to something she loved so much was admirable. And though her grades probably suffered, she was connected to this show on a level that I have never understood…until now.

My friend had an obsession with Passions.

And now, ten years later, I finally see her wisdom. Not in the failing of classes, but in the finding of something you love and doing it. We call that a passion. You know those questions?

What is your passion? What moves you? What do you love? What lights you up?

I have dabbled in many things in my short life: writing, swimming, animals, languages, books and reading, mountain biking, ballet, children, teaching, massage, pregnancy, motherhood, nutrition, and art among other things. And it has taken a long time for me to finally find my way into my passions.

I think I can safely say that my passions at this point in my life are all things pregnancy, birth and motherhood. Of course it took me actually becoming a mother to find the joy and enthusiasm in Mothering. My love for this has helped sculpt me into a sort of a Sherpa for those in my circle who are going down the path into parenthood.

But this is not about my passion- just that I have one and I am confident in identifying it. I am also continually exploring and finding new things to be interested in and perhaps become well-read on. What else is this time on Earth for if we are not learning and soaking up all that we can? How boring to not?!

I realize however, that not everyone has had that “coming to Jesus” with discovering what moves them. I read a blog post today where this was just the case. It took this woman 57 years to find that writing was her passion. Fifty-seven years. Can you imagine living almost an entire lifetime without that? My heart is happy that this woman finally did realize her passion.

But I have questions.

How do you find it? I guess some people just happen upon a passion. Others actively seek. And I think the people who don’t ever find anything they love is because they have not fully realized who they are. How can you possibly find a match to this puzzle if you are unsure of your own shape?

How to find “you”: self exploration through:  discipline, taking risks, doing hard things, being alone, thinking, writing, following a curious thought, working, talking to people, listening and watching the world around you, taking time to be quiet, being brave enough to be loud, allowing yourself to feel awkward and just be in that feeling- questioning why you feel the way you do, be open to change. Change. Grow. Feel. Decide. Stand Up. Love.

There is an interesting ebb and flow of life. There are time when I feel like this:

closed. small. quiet. unwilling. push away. yin. safe. nostalgia.

And I guess that is okay too. But I think there is danger in nostalgia. “What if’s” sneak in. “If only’s” whisper temptingly. Regrets show their face. Unreal memories are created. And then all of a sudden the now doesn’t look so great. Then the cycle starts again: closed. small. quiet. unwilling. push away. yin. safe. nostalgia.

See? Dangerous.

So. Passions. Those are things that help drive me forward. They beg the question, “What next?!” For example. My interest in Birth began with Massage. Let me take you through the process, if I may.

Hmm, massage seems to be pulling at me. Enroll in school. Dabble in 10+ different modalities. Intro to Prenatal massage class piques my interest. Take it. Love it. Take it beyond. Buy specific pregnancy massage supplies. Incorporate what  I know in my own pregnant life. Love it. Read more. Graduate massage school. Get license. Begin practice. Invest in extensive certification course for Prenatal Massage. Practice prenatal massage. Love it. Feel fulfilled.  Read more and more and more. Have two babies. Love it. Get involved in network of other mama’s just like me. Gather info on becoming a Doula. Work with/for Midwife. Love it. Read more. Do more. Talk more. Read more. Listen more. Watch my midwife. Notice that world. Flirt with the idea of Birth Assisting. Love it. Feel excited about it. Read more…realize the can of worms that has been opened. Breathe.

“What is next?”

Do you see how easy it is to be taken away in something you love? One thing leads to another and without fail, you are bound to find something at the end of some line that will define who you are. In fact, it is not that one thing that will define you, but your entire journey that has shaped you.

How divine.

Each of us has something. What is your passion? What moves you? What are you so committed to that the clarity is unmistakeable? People who have that drive and direction are easy to spot. They have a glow about them. If you don’t feel like you have that, I encourage you to start asking the hard questions and get to know yourself.

What is your passion?


As I sit here eating these, (BEST ever, btw) my niece is sitting on the couch with her friend watching old home videos. I can’t believe it has been (at least) 10 years since we took that camping trip. My niece is sweet and tells me I have not aged one bit! (Actually, the truth is, the girl in those videos was one who was carrying her Freshman Fifteen, and thankfully that has changed.)

Dear niece has been with me since Thursday. Her dad (my brother) has come home from Iraq and right now he is on a little get away with his wife trying to re-group after having been gone for nearly a year. What a year.

And I just cannot help but think: No daughter should have to do this twice. Two deployments. Afghanistan. Iraq. Two divorces. How many times can you “lose” your dad in a lifetime?

Caught between two parents who love her dearly and her own “coming to fruition” of who she is and wants to be- what a ride. I sure love her sass, her independence and her ability to think maturely about her life and all the battles going on in it. She is really on her game, a rock star in so many ways. Beautiful, talented, witty, responsible, funny. And she reminds me of myself in so many ways. We get along.

I cannot help but remember what it was like for me. Caught in the middle.  Divorce is never a pretty scene, even when parents do their best to be civil. And the children are always the ones who get the short end of the stick. Put into that equation the remarrying of parents, and you get a whole new dynamic of emotional roller coasters where you feel like if you could just throw up everything would be better. Only you cannot throw up. You must brace each day and learn new coping skills. You must press on with the faith that the ride will be over soon and you can just get off.

It took more than five years for that roller coaster ride for me to be over. Five years of adolescence Being. Ugh. (Including and not limited to: hormones, zits, bad boyfriends, shallow friendships, terrible grades, even more terrible decisions, depression, rebellion, going through the motions, long days at work on purpose, eating disorders, lying, crying, shutting down, etc…)  Yeah. It was a rough time. But mostly because I made it so. It is so silly in hindsight. I am embarrassed at my behavior. But it was those tumultuous  years that shaped what I have learned and who I have become. It was that time that showed me my strength (which is a grand thing), courage and my ability to be better than I was.

I often wonder, “Was that my trial in life? Being a child of Divorce?” And if not, what else is coming my way? I know we are not all issued just one hardship. I know some people who have gotten two!  But in all seriousness, I am grateful that I went through all of that as a teenager just for the fact that I can relate to my niece who faces much of what I did. We all need someone to relate to. And even though I am 15 years her senior, I feel a closeness and a bond that I treasure. I just hope that she can see it too and believe that despite it all, everything will be alright.

Especially when we decide to make it alright.


Making a Fist

Making a Fist
by Naomi Shihab Nye

For the first time, on the road north to Tampico,
I felt the life sliding out of me.
A drum in the desert, harder and harder to hear.
I was seven, I lay in the car
watching palm trees swirl a sickening pattern
past the glass.
My stomach was a melon split wide inside
my skin.

“How do you know if you are going to die?”
I begged my mother.
We had been traveling for days.
With strange confidence, she answered,
“When you can no longer make a fist.”

Years later, I smile to think of that journey,
the borders we must cross separately
stamped with our unanswerable woe.

I who did not die, I who am still living,
still lying in the back seat
behind all my questions,
clenching and opening one small hand.

This poem is written on the back cover of a journal I kept back in 2000. (Dated Dec 25th, 1999-July 1st 2000)

I was a senior in high school then. At one point I had it memorized. At least the part about making a fist. I’ve reflected often on my journey in life and have vivid memories of me checking that I could still make a fist , because I thought for sure what was going on in my life at that time was going kill me.

The poem also spoke to me  by making real that feeling of slipping out of control- that sickening twist of landscapes on the window that causes vertigo, then the need to vomit, the upheaval of life from within that is in turmoil. It was easy for me to compare my disgruntled teenage life and attitude to motion sickness. I took comfort in knowing that like so many times before, after the upheaval, came peace, relief and a new start to keep crossing those borders.

Getting Back In

Getting Back In

Chlorine fumes: instant nostalgia. I can’t believe she is still doing this. It has been 15 years. Lap after lap, goggles, flip turns swim suits, swimmer’s ear, joint pain, green hair. Wet. Constantly.

It was my life.

And now my daughter is taking the plunge. The cycle of swimming lessons has begun. I am so excited for her. She has her own little Speedo suit and green goggles that she picked out special just for her three year old self. She is so excited! And so am I.

Over and over- lap after lap. Intervals, endurance 1, 2 and 3. warm up. cool down. 800, 600, 400, 200= 2000 yards. Swim, kick, pull, reverse I.M. It is the most perfect, easy work out. I have probably swum the world around. Her, probably three or four times around. I’d like to have those lungs again. That body. That strength, determination and endurance. That loyalty to myself and my team.

Now the laps I “swim” I swim around my children. Flipping around their every move, their messes and needs. Now I cheer for my daughter as she swims with her teacher.

I would love to get back in. I would love to reek of chlorine, to feel the burn in my muscles and know that I am SO alive with every heavy pulse of my heart, counting out the laps with the rhythm of my breath.

My muscles have changed in the last 15 years. Substantially. My muscles now can be found in using my intuition, mothering (hefting babies), health, listening, peacefulness, spirituality and compassion (sometimes). Of course those muscles are still growing. With every hardship and experience that I allow myself to have that is difficult, I know I will become stronger.

And in a lot of ways, these things are just the same as “getting back in”.

What will you miss?

I am curious. Since the previous post I have been reflecting on the things that I will miss most about that Greatest Generation. I know my answers. And so I want to know what you will miss? Leave a comment and share your thoughts!

I will miss hearing about and seeing:

fishing stories
how far a dollar can stretch
re-using saran wrap over and over (or anything for that matter!)
patience and wisdom


What will you miss?

Memories of Mom

There are good things about my mother. She is a good woman. I believe that most people really are good at heart. If I could peel away the layers, goodness would be underneath.

Upon thinking all week about this, I realize that I really am a lot like my mother. She’s a hippie. Creative, open, a liberal and a lover. A breaker of rules, a nurturer. She is wack sometimes reactive and selfish in her choices. She’s a shopper, a spender, a binge dieter. Spontaneous. A listener. And I know she loves me.

I have fond memories of her when I was a child. Memories of washing dishes together and me talking to her about the things I learned that day. We used to write in our journals together. That’s one thing that I am grateful that she instilled in her children – to be writers. Recently, she let me read her account of my birth in her journal. She went right to it. October, 1981. How special that those memories and events were preserved. I have memories of music. There was always music in our home. She taught me the violin starting at a very young age. She had a huge following of students actually, while we were living overseas in Riyadh. She plays many instruments. The violin (fiddle), piano, guitar, accordion and others that I don’t even know the name of. She valued music enough to pass her skills on to her children. And while I don’t play any instrument anymore (I cannot believe she let me quit!) I do enjoy singing and listening/appreciating all genre’s of music. My favorite while a youngster: Abba, Marty Robins, Madonna, Blondie, Johnny Cash, and others always were streaming throughout our home.

I have memories of swimming with her. Well, actually- she would walk the perimeter of the pool doing her aerobics to “Deep Breakfast” while we kids splashed all around. She even made my sister and I mermaid tail swim suits one summer. I’m not sure how we didn’t drown wearing those things! My tail was pink, sister’s tail was blue. It was always sad when we had to take them off at the end of the day. My mother let us go night swimming a few times. We may or may not have been naked.

She sewed. Living outside of this grand old U S of A forced her into creating knock off of the real deal. She made Barbie houses, Christmas stockings, most of our clothes, toys and whatever else she could concoct. Brilliant. Who needs a pattern? She made play dough, bread, “apple box” horses and other things out of cardboard boxes. She even made Cabbage Patch Kids. I still have little Black Stevie.

We had animals. Oh did we have animals. Our compound in Saudi…oh man. The cats. No wonder my dad hates them! And to think that Mama Bushy Tail (yes, that was her name) had her kittens right under dads desk! We had box turtles, gerbils, parakeets, a cockatoo, even a DUCK. (Oh, Wilber…who one day laid an egg and then became Wilberina!) Our parakeets flew free in an all tile bathroom, and to clean it, we would just strap sponges to our feet, hook up the hose and have a soap fest.

The things she let us do created my childhood. It really was amazing. She was there in the beginning, when it counted. Not that her presence ever stopped counting but the foundation was there. And perhaps that was why her leaving was so difficult. She had always been there. And then she was not. My mother did a 180, and it hurt. I’ll cherish my memory of her when she was around. For she taught me how to be a child. She taught me how to help my own children be children. She loved us all, and still does I have no doubt.

I’ll hang on to that.

Sifting through it all

Its been since October since I have dusted this old blog off. Its time to revisit. This time for real. This time for me. A venue where I can sift through the piles of things that I have avoided looking at for a long time.

I’ve got to start somewhere. So I will start here.


I just had a baby. I am a new mother- all over again.

And this time it is different. So very different.

I feel a sense of mourning with the birth of this child. “Baby Blues” is what they call it I guess. I have not felt this before. My first child I think I was on that after birth cloud nine until she turned one. I’ve come crashing down this time.
Not terribly. Just enough to make me feel. Its been so long since I’ve let myself indulge in emotional things. Emotions can be dangerous things. I’ve worked hard to not live by them. I acknowledge them and then dismiss them. Doesn’t everyone? No. I know this because I am surrounded by extremely emotional people in my circle of friends. Being around them makes me cling more to the anti-emotion sentiment. But I can see in living like this, I have lost a part of who I used to be. I lost an outlet.
The only thing I can think to describe my old self is “hippie”. A free spirit who was creative, open, expressive, confident in art and writing- in creating. All of those things come about by exploring different emotions and providing an outlet for them. I married a man who is a little on the non-expressive side. His brain works differently: a realist. And that is fine for him. But I mourn the loss of a part of who I used to be. I mourn my creative side. I have talents, I have ideas. I had plans for who I’d be by now. I see people around me that are creative, emotional beings and think to myself: “see Holly? Thats how it was supposed to be. Thats who I want to be…” I know it is not too late. Its just going to take some work to muck out these stale stalls and allow myself to begin feeling again. To allow others to see me feeling.

This doesn’t mean that I become a basket case. It means that I allow the creative juices to flow and let my feelings guide the way. Yes. I have plans. And a lot of walls to break down again. For now I will just take it all in and continue sifting. The jewels will be left for me to share.

Forever Words

I recently came across a few of my high school year books and was reading through them, feeling nostalgic and such. I thought, hey, why don’t I share all of these funny autographs with the blogger world. And since a few of you reading this blog went to high school with me, we can all enjoy the regurgitated words of old friendships. I won’t include ALL of them, because, well, I had to get a whole ‘nother yearbook to hold all the autographs so that would make for a particularly long post. Ok, not really. I will just omit the lame-o ones where so and so tells me “you are cool, never change, have a great summer, C U next year” sort of crap. Besides, it’s already going to be a long post.

So in no particular order, here is what people thought about me and said to me at the end of my Junior year at South Summit High School. Fight on for SS High!


Holly, its been fun having a locker by you. Thanks for being such a nice friend to me. Have fun!
-Your friend, Robby Brimhall

Holly, I can’t even explain how much I love you (in a different way…I love Ben [Lee] that other way) Tapestry is so much better with you in it. I hope you sit next to each other next year! I wish you were on drill team. -Liesel [Pederson]

Holly, next year we should become buds. You and Sandoval should party. Your bud, Ethan [Atkinson]

Holly- Well my bestest friend in the whole world!…Ahhh, we have both learned so many things this year! We are both so much more mature and better people. Hopefully throughout our lives we can stay friends. But until then, I will still bother you with my never ending problems that you don’t want to hear. Well, I guess all else I could tell you is that I love you so much! I if were a lesbian, you would be my secret lover! (j/k) Well, anyway, (save the worms!) Love you/Myndy [Wadsworth] XOXO

Holly Be gentle with Sandoval. He is fragile. I think you are cool. -Your bud, Curtis Cox

Patrick Martin signed twice for some reason. Both are…interesting.
Holly, you are sooo sexy. I want to make mad-hot-wild-kinky sex to you. Call me and we’ll set up a date or we’ll just do something else. -Putt [Patrick Martin]

Holly, In order for us to further our friendship/relationship we must continue to talk, and do more activities together. I must also bring about the point of your astounding beauty and charm. The magnificence of your character is also very, how do you say, intriguing. And lastly, YOU ROCK! Love, Putt

Holly. Like I said before Holly Carb[orators] are the best and so are you. You are funny and you know what is up. Have you seen the Matrix? We are like the people who aren’t batteries. -Rhett [Phillips]

Holly You are not the girl I remember last year. I always thought you wanted to beat me up! But now I know that you are a doll! Tapestry has been cool! Sorry I thought that…Now I know better! Have a great summer and I’ll see ya next year my senior Friend! Love Megz [Page?]

Holly, I will never forget the first time I worked with you at the pool! You told me how you wanted to pose for a picture. You always amaze me! You are a great friend and I will miss you when go to school! At least we will always have the pool! See you around! PS You’re awesome!-Jody Rydalch

Whoever said we were related? 🙂 If you want to get into the “western stuff” I’m the one that can help! 🙂 GOod Luck! MaryLou Blazzard [my second cousin]

Ok. Here we go again. How are you? Whats up? Dont you thnk this yearbook signing thing is weird? Just think about it. You bought this expensive book for…for…$30.00 ($33.00 if you went to the Yearbook Dance) and you let all these people write in your own personal book. Now correct me if I am wrong, but society is weird. This whole thing is just crazy! Who cares…ah, anyway…In 20 years you’ll read this (maybe). My dad hasn’t even looked at his and he is still living and breathing. My point is: It does not even matter what I write in this book, so I’ll just sign my name. JAMIE LAMBERT. There.

Hey Holly Have a cool summer, dont party too hard, call if desired. See ya on the blocks! Love, Conor Jensen

Dearest Holly- blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah -Love, Sandoval [my boyfriend at the time]

Hey Hotty Girl. I love you. We should hang this summer so I can stay out of trouble. You are a good strong woman and I wish you well. Have fun and be wise. -Ian George

Holly! Hi cutie! I’ve loved getting to know you a little better this year. You are someone I seriously look up to. I value your opinion you’re so honest, I love that! We MUST hang out this summer- I still can’t tell if you really want to or not, but I do, so tough luck! 🙂 Love your guts!! love/Tahnie [Moon]

Holly- Soccer was a blast! The tapestry trip was even funner I am so glad I got to know you this year. You are very awesome person. Never change for anybody! Sorry I never kept my “No Sugar Diet”! Love, Juli Walker

Holly, You are one of the coolest and unique people I’ve had the pleasure of meeting. You are wonderful becuase you are a trail blazer and you are so individualistic. I hope we can hang this summer! Kurt Walker

Hholly if love was people, I’d be China. Love love love love love ya! Keep in Touch! -Mardee Goodwin

Part II: What I said about love and people and a certain Asian country was true. However, I’ve decided that I need to expand on that a little. Holly, how much have we been through together? Between good boyfriends, and bad boyfriends, sneaking out and tanning on your roof, riding on your Trail ’90 everywhere Those were the days! I can’t think of anyone else I’ve ever had such fun with ! You opened my eyes to a lot of thing I couldn’t (or wouldn’t allow myself to) think upon on my own. What can I say? I hope hope hope you come to my graduation, I cannot think of a better graduation gift than to see you in the crowd as I walk through the gym of SSHS for the last time! -Forever, Mardee [Goodwin]

Holly, Holy crap can I say that you used to intimidate me SO f-ing bad! I can honestly say that I am so glad I got to know you this year! (I’m not just saying that to sound like a dumb blonde!) You made the cruz so fun- who can forget Mr. “Wild Thang” and all thse crazy drunk men in their mid-fourties! But hey, dancing was a blast! Good luck next year! -Hillary Smoot

Holly, You are the coolest! Lets ride horses some time!!!- Later. Nick [Bishop]

Holly my dear, I hope you know how much you mean to me! You have been my friend for such a very long time and I hope that we will remain friends for even longer! I have honestly learned probably more from you than almost all of my friends. I truly appreciate the honesty I have been able to share with you. Holly- I know you will have success in all you do. You have a persistence that is unbeatable. It is, of course, hard at times, but never give in. Good luck in swimming next year. I’ll be at State. Come visit me in Provo, no matter how much you detest it! I love you! -Rachel Wagstaff

Holly. What do I say? How do I begin? My dearest “spurt” friend! I miss you between “Spurts”! You have no idea how much you have helped me this year. I will forever be grateful. Thank you for being there. Thanks for being strong even though all your friends have not had the confidence to be strong. Thanks for not hating me, even though I have so many quirks! You helped change my life even if you don’t think so. I will always be in your debt and your friend, so if you ever need a shoulder…Lets do stuff all summer! I love your so much and I can’t say thanks you enough. Have a great summer. Keep in touch! -Amy Shuppy

Holly, you are so awesome! You are one of those few people who doesn’t care about what anybody thinks of you, or you don’t show it anyway. Hey, its been real! -Trevor Rezac

Holly- We’ve never been the best of friends, but I wish we were. I think you’re an awesome person and you always know how to express yourself! -Tillery Stahr

Dear All-wise Holly, Hey, I want you to know something. No, not that I am closed-minded, but how cool it is that you are you. Most people, myself included, change overtime from trying to talk about their thoughts, to trying to be dumb and hide the person within so they are more accepted. You somehow have not done this and I do see it. Holly I wish you knew how I really was. Maybe you will one day. Maybe. – Jeffery Sargent

Holly. Thanks for being so cool to me and for being my friend even though you’ve told me a few things I didn’t want to hear.Keep in touch with me. See ya around. Kendrick [Woolstenhulme]

Holly, you are the fuzziest kid alive! …You have such wit and sociality! Love ya -Lindsay Smoot

Holly I have always enjoyed having you in class. You really “think” about things and that is fun! -Brother Cottle

Holly- Hey babe! You totally rock! Seriously you are so cool and fun to be around, you have such an interesting personality. I mean that. It comes from the heart! Sorry that I always worried about my hair when i was around you . I know you hated it. See you later. -Kensey [Roper]

Holly, hey girl. you’re really cool and unique. I like that a lot about you. And hey, there is nothing wrong with cheating…and thanks for not weirding out on me. Love, Palmer [Hagen] PS Tell Amy I LOVE HER!

Holly Holly, she’s so Jolly! You are the most unique girl I know. I really admire you for being you! I’ve had the funnest time in PSYCH with you. Have a great summer and get ready for next year! We’re gonna be SENIORS!!! See you around! -Megan [DeGerring]


Ok. So now I understand why I spent those $30 on my yearbook.  It feels good to remember who I was during the hardest part of my life. Apparently I came across as being a pretty cool girl who had it together. Man oh man, if they only knew! Well, either way, it feels good to reflect and remember all my friends and experiences of my high school career. I’d totally do it over again. Only this time, I’d be nicer to people, including myself.

Thanks guys, for leaving ‘forever’ words in my yearbook.