Of All the Little Things

I have noticed lately many, many teeny little things that make me happy. There are big things too, of course, but today I'll mix things up a bit and take grand notice of the little things.

I have a scripture plant. It is exactly what it sounds like -- I got a pot full of dirt and put seeds in it. And it sits precariously on our windowsill demanding to be watered. This serves to remind me to read my scriptures, and it is quite powerfully changing my life because I may only water the plant when I do remember to read. The command of the Lord to Jenna was simply this: "Don't kill it." I have taken this stern command to heart, and the pot full of sprouting little plants has grown to be quite tall. I named it Theodore, which means 'gift of God', because it was His idea in the first place.

I mention this little plant for many reasons, one of which is the pure joy that fills my soul whenever I see it. Everyday for at least a few minutes, I stand over it and coo sweet nothings to it. And I stroke its many little leaves lovingly. I think once I kissed it, because I was so excited to see it when I came home. And do you know what? I think that little plant and I are forming a bond. It could be because I do stroke it lovingly, perhaps. I do bond through hugs, and that's as close as I can get to hugging it. It could be because I tell it nice things, perhaps. Who doesn't like to be complimented on how beautifully patterned your leaves are, and how much taller you are today than you were yesterday, and how vividly green your foliage is? It could be because we spend quality time together, perhaps. It could be because I give it meaningful service by watering it so often, perhaps. We shall never know the means by which this bond was forged, but there indeed exists a mental and spiritual connection between Theo and I.

It also indirectly brings me joy through the scripture reading I have done because of it. Shannon and I read our scriptures together every night (or try to) so we can both be more consistent, and the blessings are too wonderful and numerous to describe.

I have also recently come to deeply appreciate Top Ramen. Every college student has their own method of preparing the ultra-cheap noodles, but I think I may have the best way. I don't like it plain, but it is rather divine when you add a bunch of random things to it. I like onions and celery and carrots chopped up really tiny (with a ridiculously large knife, of course), and little bits of meat in it (meat that matches the salt packet flavor, of course. But by far my favoritest thing about Jenna's divine Ramen concoction is the egg. Just before I take my Ramen noodly soup off the stove, I scramble a single egg and then pour it into the hot bubbling goodness egg-drop style. And then I stir violently, let it sit on the stove for just a moment longer, and then I'll take it off. Who knew Ramen could taste so exquisite?

Lately, I have come to appreciate functioning thyroids. As you all may know, my thyoid is lazy and isn't doing its job. And so my metabolism is a little messed up. O, wo is me. I also really appreciate doctors who are aware that their patients aren't made of money and try to prescribe cheap medications rather than expensive ones, and advising you where you can go to get work done where your insurance will pay for it, instead of sending you next door where they'll charge you an arm and a leg to do the same thing.

Yesterday, I bought ballroom shoes. This was an epic experience. Rachel drove me over to the little Dance Works store and I walked in to a marvellous bazaar of dance things. I was lost in a teeny little store. I found a worker. "Hi, I'm looking for ballroom shoes. Latin ones, preferably."

The worker guided me to the patch on the wall covered in ballroom shoes and the search was on. I asked for the cheapest brand of shoe. "What size do you normally wear?" "Erm... about a size 7?"

There were no sevens. The seven and a half was woefully too big... as was the six and a half. We tried a six. Still too big.

So she kept bringing out smaller and smaller sizes... the thing about ballroom shoes is that they have to be snug on your feet... and they want them to be tight, especially when you first buy them. Apparently they strech a quarter inch after you dance in them for a while.

She finally brought out a size 5. I marvelled at the sheer tinyness of these shoes. And I looked back and forth between my feet and the teeny shoes. My foot... in that. So I know for a girl of my height, my feet are disproportionately tiny. But I don't know so much about wearing -- and fitting in -- a size 5.

To my surprise, however, my feet did indeed fit inside that tiny pair of shoes. And-- I found a tiny little square meter of hardwood floor and danced on it by myself (as best as I could with no space) and found them extremely satisfying. I think this pair of shoes will improve my dancing. Tenfold.

No more feet sliding around in slightly too big Sunday shoes. Now I can actually bend my foot and actually feel the floor... and glide over it, and... and oooooohhh, it feels goooood.

Guys -- I might actually get an A in a ballroom dance class. For the first time in my life. The anticipation of the last dance is kiling me now with my fancy little fairy-feet shoes. And speaking of good grades... I haven't botched my chances for As in any of my classes expect for one. I botched my chance for an A in neuroanatomy today when I got a 70% on the test. Which brings my 90% exam average all the way down to an 80%. I don't feel all that disappointed though. Yes, that means I got 30% of the questions wrong, but I DID get the rest of them right. That's more than I deserved.

I am grateful for merciful professors. My professor was merciful upon me and allowed me to take the exam late because I had been so extremely sick last week. I fully expected to receive a big fat zero because I didn't go take it when everyone else did, and since the syllabus very clearly states that there will be absolutely no make-up exams. I am fairly certain that even with almost an entire week's extra time I was at no advantage over the other students, because I still haven't been feeling too good, and I have seen a noticable decrease in my capacity to remember information during the time in which I've been sick. I think I might actually be proud of that 70%... you know, I think I am.

I especially have an appreciation for free school... especially because from out of nowhere (seemingly from above) I have received a full tuition scholarship for spring and summer terms. O glorious day. I will now not have to suffer through four entire months of schoollessness. I really still love school, even through the muck of exams and homework...

There goes a story in my family that when I was small, I really, really loved school. I am not quite clear on the details, but on a day when there was no school, I got ready to go and got really upset when no one would take me to school. My parents and my aunt kept telling me that there was no school that day, and that if I went to school, no one would be there. But I was so distraught that my aunt finally drove me past the school just to prove to me that no one was there. Indeed... no cars in the parking lot, no children on the playground, no school... That was an awful day.

I am grateful for mail. I received a letter from little brother Clifton yesterday and it brought unspeakable joy to my heart.

I love sunshine.

I love Sundays.

I love hugs.

I am pretty much fond of the state of my life in general. Everything seems to be going my way, with the obvious exception of my health and cognition and very little mail, but really, that's not all that much. Oh, and my iPod is broken. It still plays music, but not the music I want it to. And my closet is a little small. And my neuroanatomy grade is wilting. Plus, I unfortunately have to climb an intimidating flight of stairs everyday.

But really, life's okay.

Love, Jenna