What the next few years look like in the life of Lara

Today - I am nineteen years old, a freshman at BYU, not a clue what I'm going to do with the rest of my life, happy, enjoying school, and loving dance.  Life is good.

May - Done with first year at BYU, hopefully with an idea of something I want to study.  If I can't sell my contract, then I'll be visiting home for a couple of weeks and spending time with the family.

June - training for the Logan to Jackson bike ride (in September) while living in Provo still, or taking off to study abroad in Vienna for summer term.  

August - Sophomore year starts (to be better than the first).

December - I turn twenty and finally leave the terrible teenage years.  

New Years - We usher in 2012 (don't die).  My deadline to decide on a major.

Spring... (Study abroad in Munich?) Summer...  (Job? Home? School?) Fall... (School!)

September - I'll be three months from turning twenty-one, and you know what's coming....?  That's right, mission papers go in!

December 2012 - Twenty-one, baby!  Off for a mission somewhere for the next 18 months.  (Starting to be okay with that idea.  After all, it's only 18 months...)

June 2014 - Home from the mission, and ready for one last year at BYU and ready to find a job and move away.

Then the rest of my life begins....  I just that because right now I have no idea what that entails, not because I don't think that that time is more important or significant than now (I have a lot to do before then).  I've always known that I would go to BYU after I graduated from high school, but I've never really thought beyond that (aside from getting married and having babies, of course - that was drilled into me in YW's - but I'm starting to realize there is so much more to that than I can imagine). 

Maybe I'll go to a culinary arts school.  Maybe I'll move to Seattle and beg to teach at PBD.  Maybe I'll move to Europe and start my own company.  Maybe I'll be the CEO or CFO of some major company and be making bank.  Maybe I'll never get married.  Maybe I will get married and  live off the currency of young love and be as happy as church mice in a trailer park (which I refuse to do).  Maybe I'll just have to wait and see...

Growing. Up. Feels. Weird.