So This is Stress.

It... has been an enormously long time since I wrote and email. And I keep putting off writing about my life, because there is soooo much that has happened... and I just don't know where to begin. And every day I wait, the worse it gets. In fact, I'm not sure I remember a lot of what's happened. I haven't actually written anything since looong before the rock, paper, scissors tournament that Ryan, Hillary, and I went to. I didn't even write about that. I just sent pictures.

Well... after the tournament a couple weeks ago... here's what happened. The tournament was over by about five. At about six, Jackie and I went to a passover dinner together, which was hosted by my Isaiah professor. We got home late-ish, and went to bed. Then, on Saturday, Ryan and Rachelle and I went to the temple in the morning to do baptisms. Later that day me and Jackie went to a dance concert, which was spectacular. On Sunday, we had our last Sunday school lesson and our last Relief Society lesson. I don't remember much else about Sunday except that I did get home taught, visit taught, and I did my visiting teaching that day. And then after I was done with visiting teaching that day, I remember coming directly to ward prayer. I showed up right as Ryan was coming down the stairs. I gave him a big hug, and then other people started showing up, and they all got big hugs too. I think I also accidentally sat on Will's hand, and Jackie thought he thought it was significant. I stayed away from Will after that. Then Hillary and Rachel and I were about to leave, but then Ryan and I started talking again (surprise surprise...).

And... he had bad news. He was leaving a whole day earlier than he had told me earlier. Tuesday instead of Wednesday. Gaah! Another day lost! I must have looked devastated or something, because he hugged me again. I didn't let go, and he didn't either until he decided it was too long. ("No longer than fifteen seconds! Longer than that and it's baaad!" ... I swear he counts. I swear. Or at least watches his watch over my shoulder...) Then we decided we had to do something really exciting before going our separate ways after finals. Seemed simple enough, but then... well, life turned into academic h***. Sad day.

Well, Monday after that was okay. But then things got progressively worse. I spent all of Monday attempting to get all sorts of homework and projects done for Tuesday, which was the last day of class. But after classes on Tuesday... it wasn't over. Me and Ryan had our choir concert to go perform in. We did that, and we felt relieved that classes were finally over... but, sad day, it was going to get worse. Wednesday was classless, but not at all workless. I studied and I studied and I studied. And I wasn't going as fast as I would like. Ryan showed up, and said he was going over to my angelic neighbors at 128 to make playdough and he wanted me to come with... but I felt that I had to decline or else fail biology. And about here is when I snapped a little. In a week Ryan would be gone. And I just didn't have the time to go do any silly stuff with him. It was the most frustrating thing I'd ever felt in my life. I was mad at school.

But I got over it just barely enough to sit and read another hundred pages of biology before I dozed off. I woke up early in the morning on Thursday. Looked outside and saw sunshine. And was drawn to it. It was too cold to go out and just sit without a sweater or something, so I took my quilt, my coat, and my biology book and camped out on the grass outside my kitchen window. And read. And read. Robert, my home teacher walked by... "Are you going to the baptism?" Oh. That. There were three Nepalese boys in my ward who were getting baptized this morning. I told Robert I wasn't, giving the excuse that I didn't even know the boys, but I felt another flare of frustration again. I couldn't have gone if I wanted to. I needed to finish reading this biology book about how evolution and religion don't necessarily disagree, and then write an essay about LDS doctrine, evolution, and the views of the Catholic author of this book... all this by 4pm. It was almost 10 am, and I was half-way through that book. And it was a slow read! It was chalked full of ridiculously science-y terminology, and I understood it, but I couldn't skim it. Gaah!

I sat on the grass and read as quickly as I could... a crowd of people in my ward walked by, and I did my best to ignore them so that I could get through this book... but ignoring the crowd was a useless endeavor, especially when one of the is Ryan and calling to you to look up and pay attention to him... "Jeeeeennnnnnnnaaaahh!!!" So I looked up and waved, had a two-minute conversation, and then he ran off to join to mob of people that was quickly disappearing.

After about an hour or so, I had read almost another hundred pages of science-y gunk that I probably would have enjoyed had it not been for that looming deadline jeering at me that I wasn't reading fast enough. It was a darn good thing I had decided to study outside, because it was chilly, and if I had tried to study inside I would have been doomed to have fallen asleep instantly. People started coming back home from the baptism. Lots of the boys stopped and talked to me, and most of the girls just waved. After I had determined to ignore the rest of the passersby, it wasn't long before I noticed two nicely-shoed feet on the grass in front of me. I looked up to see Clifton, my dearest little brother. He inquired as to what I was doing... I explained, and distressed about the evil deadline I had. He sympathized, then asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?"

I considered carefully within the next millisecond, and replied, "Food?" My stomach was growling angrily at me. Clifton raised his eyebrows. "You want food? Okay." And he disappeared. I didn't have much time to wonder if Clifton actually was going to bring me any food, because then Ryan showed up again, and started talking to me.

"Hey, can I study with you?" he finally asked. I blinked. I wondered if it was a good idea to say yes because I would probably be quite distracted. The speed of my reading would be dramatically reduced because I would be watching him in my peripheral vision instead of staring at the page of words. "Uhh... yeah..." Hm. That wasn't quite what I was trying to say. At all. He eyed me. "Are you sure you won't be distracted?" I looked back up at him. "Nope," I said, meaning that I wasn't at all sure. The stupid thing about questions like that is that a negative answer like that can be interpreted in two ways... no, I'm not sure, or no, I won't be distracted. Well, I think Ryan wasn't sure which I meant, so... "Hm. I know. We won't talk to each other. No words." I nodded. And then he set off to get his books. Oh dear. I am in a strange situation. I have so much I need to do, but I would so much rather be spending all this time with my friend who is going to be far, far away next week.

I spent the next ten minutes trying to stiffen my concentration. I was quite obviously failing in my own mind, judging by the increased occurrence of reading the same sentence over and over again. Ryan came back out, changed out of his suit and tie, and laden with a backpack full of books. He came over. And then he said, "I think I'll go study in the law library. I'm going to meet the other Adelaide missionaries at one and I'm paranoid I'll miss it."

I nodded. "Okay." I was both relieved and saddened by this news.

He started to leave, but then came back. "Hey... do you know how to make pie?"

I looked up again. Hm... "I've made a pie before, yes..."

"Well, I want to make a cherry pie for someone."

I don't know if I've figured out how to read this boy's mind or I just know the way his brain works, but I knew instantly who he was talking about. I mean, Cherish's name sounds a lot like cherry pie. Who else could it be for? "Cherish?" I asked.

He blinked, looking a little shocked. "Yeah... I want to make a cherry pie. For Cherish. Cherreesh."

"Let's make cherry pie, then. On Sunday. After church." He nodded, and the plans were made. He left, and then Clifton came bearing a large, carefully prepared meal. I gave him the biggest, most grateful hug I could manage, and then I read some more, chomping down on that food. After about another hour, I had finished the book, and I came inside and whipped up an essay in twenty minutes. I was so tired of it, that I just sent it away without proofreading. Maybe this is bad, but I'm rather confident in my writing skills... enough that I expect that my first draft is good enough. [It was good enough, it earned me a perfect score... I can't complain, I guess...]

Then I got out some other things and started studying for my Book of Mormon final... study study study.

The next morning, I woke up early. I put on my Sunday clothes, and then Ryan, Rachelle, Liz, and I went to the temple again and did baptisms for a bit. Then... instead of coming straight home, we went and got Krispy Kreme donuts. Half were glazed, and half were the chocolate sprinkle kinds. Ooh, the blessed dozen. Rachelle received them from the drive-through window... and then passed them back to Ryan. It was Rachelle's car, so she requested that we not eat them until we got home. The box... was sooo tempting.

We kept talking about donuts. "Let's stop talking about them! I won't be able to resist them any longer!" So we stopped talking about them. But then gave me a sly look. And started opening the box. I gaped. "No!" I whispered.

He nodded. The sight of those artery-clogging goodnesses would surely break me. So, desperate to keep myself in control, I covered my eyes. "No, no! I won't look!"

Ryan started teasing me now. "Oh Jenna, just one look won't kill you!" I could tell the box was open now. But not because I could see it. It was the aroma. I was getting fatter just smelling it.

And I wasn't alone. Liz and Rachelle gasped. I kept muttering "No, no, no... I won't... I won't..." Finally, Rachelle rolled down her windows. And Liz and Rachelle stuck their heads out, gasping for air.

"Ryan, clooossseee it! Close it, quick!" "No, no, no, I won't look, I won't look, close the box, Ryan, close the box!"

I think he really enjoyed that brief moment of power he had. He closed it, after what sounded like a malicious giggle, which reminded me of my dad when he plays a nasty trick on someone. I opened my eyes. Rachelle and Liz were wafting the remains of the delicious aroma out the windows. We scolded Ryan. "Don't ever do that again!" He didn't, but I could tell he was toying with the idea.

We finally got home. But it was too early for Ryan to come into our apartments... so... donut party in the lobby! We sat and talked and ate donuts and drank milk for an hour. And then Liz and Rachelle went inside their apartment, and then me and Ryan came to mine. With that, we studied Book of Mormon for an hour together, and then we headed down to the Wilk to take the final. I got a 96% on it, and then I sat down on a cushy couch and studied Isaiah for several hours. Then I took that final. By this time, it was about five. I got dinner, and then I studied calculus for about an hour and a half. Then I went and took that final. By the time I was done, I'd been studying and testing for twelve straight hours. It... was horrendous.

To tell the truth, what was motivating me this whole time was the thought that maybe, just maybe, if I got all my finals done today and tomorrow, I'd be able to spend time with my best friend before he left and not feel guilty that I wasn't studying. So I came home, emailed Ryan, showered, and went to bed.

In the morning, I woke up and pulled out my biology almost immediately. I studied for about an hour. I was determined to take biology and then physics today. But then Cute Mike came up the stairs. Cute Mike is in my biology class. I declared my intentions to take the final today, on Saturday! But Mike gave me a bewildered look. I thought the final was scheduled for 7pm on Tuesday! I blinked. And it all came crashing in on me. Cute Mike was right. I couldn't get all my finals done before Ryan even left. Tuesday was when Ryan would be leaving. And I would be taking a final.

Blast it all. Cute Mike left. And I sat in the lobby, stunned. My plan. It failed. No! And at about this point... I lost all motivation to study. The motivation worked when I thought the plan was feasible. But now that it was foiled, I saw little purpose in studying or taking any finals today. Gaah! I finished the power point review slides, and then I stopped studying. And then I determined that I wasn't going to do any more school stuff until Tuesday anyway. That gave me Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday. Three whole days.

I still felt a little sick though. If it could have worked, my original plan would have been so much better. In fact, I think that Ryan was trying to do the same thing... I mean, no one ever takes three finals in one day. I did. And apparently (according to his email) so did Ryan. And he had been planning to take his other finals today, just like I had. Gaah. I think I sat and cried a little. After the tears stopped coming, I went home, and cleaned. And cleaned... the way I do when I'm really stressed.

And after that... I wasn't sure what to do. So... I paced. And paced. And paced. Until there was a knock at the door.

It was Ryan... I let him in. "Hey, there's a basketball game in the court outside... Wanna go to 128 and ask to watch it out their window?" Hm. 128 has a perfect view of the court. But... I didn't have any interest in the game at all. Gaah.

I wanted to spend time with Ryan, but at this point I was too stressed to feign an interest in his proposed activity tonight, which made me feel absolutely hopeless. I sighed. "Ryan... I don't really want to watch basketball right now. So, if you really want, you can go over to 128 by yourself and watch it with those girls."

He stared at me. "But I don't want to watch the game."

I gave him my most confused look. "... But it was your idea..."

"Uhh... I just thought it would be fun to show up at their door and say, 'Hey. We're here to watch the game.' And I thought Jenna would want to go do something silly like that. And I wanted to go do something silly with Jenna."

I laughed. "Yeah, I would enjoy that. But then we'd have to go in and watch the game!"

He reconsidered. "Oh. Yeah. You're right. Hm. Well, me and 128 made playdough the other night. Let's go get it and play with it." So we knocked on their door, inquired after the playdough, took it, and returned to my apartment. (Gaah... I wrote our apartment... Ryan doesn't live here... he jokes like he does, but he doesn't!) And then we played with playdough for hours and hours. And then we returned the playdough, and Ryan went home.

Shrink Duty.

This week has been splendid. Entirely. Every night I got enough sleep... and I'd gotten all my homework done with relatively no stress. The to-do list in my head was rather small... which all in all resulted in a happy Jenna.

I even sang well in choir. In fact, I think I got the piece that we would be performing in devotional next week completely memorized. Yay! So, of course, I walked out of choir smiling with a skip in my step.

Ryan kind of snuck up behind me and just silently walked beside me. He didn't even say hello. I looked over at him. "Hello!" He smiled. I started to wonder if he was all right... he seemed tired, or stressed, or depressed, or something... But since I couldn't figure it out within two seconds, I asked, "How are you?"

He said he was okay. I'm not sure if I believed him or not. We walked for a little, and then just when he seemed like he was going to talk...

"Jenna!" Will viciously cut in, oblivious to anything in the world except himself and Jenna Griffin.

"What?"

Will took the place on my other side. He has a tendency to make everything about him, so it wouldn't do for him to be on the same side as Ryan. No, no, we have to completely absorb Jenna's attention.

"I'm happy!" Well, that was a change... usually he was the most depressed person within a ten-mile radius. But it was sort of expected... he had just gotten his mission call (to Mendoza, Argentina). I patiently listen to Will... and Ryan slinks away. Will continues to talk, and it gets more and more awkward (he was more happy because he had talked to his first girlfriend, and then he started telling me all about the circumstances of his first kiss, and...)

I am about to cut in and tell him I need to get to class... "Well, I'll let you get to biology..."

"Okay..." How do you know my class schedule? This isn't something I openly tell Will about. Stalker.

Well, my biology professor didn't show up... and I didn't particularly mind, because my mind was occupied and class probably wouldn't have done much good for me anyway. I couldn't help wondering if Ryan was okay. I hadn't seen him in two days, and he seemed rather bothered by something.

I went home. Pulled out my pen and paper, and proceeded to write him a little note to see if he was okay. I then ran over to Shipp Hall and slipped it under his door.

Then I went home again. Where I totally cleaned my kitchen... then my room... then my hallways... then my bedding... then my laundry... and then... I walked out of my front door and noticed a sharp smell of permanent marker. I followed my nose and discovered a note taped up by my door... and yes, in permanent marker. I smelled it before I saw it. It was in Ryan's clumsy writing. He said was okay. Liar.

I went back in my room to see messages from both Ryan and Will on my computer. Ryan was just informing me that there was a note outside my door. Will... well, I can't sign onto instant messenger without fear (usually fulfilled) that Will may start talking to me within thirty seconds. I started talking to both of them... and then Ryan wanted to come over.
He did, but then we just went to my neighbor's place.... Cherish, Ryan, and I (mostly Cherish and I) talked about random things for about an hour and a half. Then Cherish and her roommates left to go see a movie.

I was hungry, so I went back to my apartment to scavenge for food. Ryan followed me. And... there wasn't much. Somehow, my other roommates had run out of meal plan money, and I had to pay for most of the food this week... and so we only that the most basic foodstuffs imaginable... and then I was out of money too.

Checking my refrigerator and my cupboards for food, and hearing my stomach growling angrily, all I saw that wouldn't take much time to prepare was... pasta. All right. What can I have with plain pasta?

Ryan is lying on my couch rather dejectedly. I pull the chair over to the cupboard so that I can search better. Aha! In the back, a can of tomato sauce! And... three cloves of garlic on this shelf... and over there, I'm sure we have Italian seasoning... I check the fridge for ground beef, but we are out. Oh well. Meatless sauce is better than no sauce.

"Have you eaten yet? I'm making spaghetti."

"Uh... I've snacked..."

"No dinner?"

"Well, no..."

"Ryan. Do. You. Want. Dinner."

"Uhh... sure..."

"Okay! Sorry about not having any meat..." I get the noodles going. And then just as I'm about to start the sauce... Wait a minute.

"Do you know how to make spaghetti sauce?"

He blinked at me. "No..."

I pulled him over to the stove. "You're going to make the sauce." I decided I wasn't even going to touch any of the ingredient for the sauce anymore. I had already poured the tomato sauce in the pan, but the rest I could just tell him how to do...

I told him how to peel a clove of garlic, and then I pulled out a garlic press. "What's that?" "A garlic press... To crush the garlic with..." "Oh... it's meant for garlic?" "Yep." "I always just used to play with peanut butter with those..."

I told him to put the garlic inside and then crush it. He looked down at the garlic press, and then at me. "Will it hurt it?" "No..." "Oh... will it hurt me?" "No... But it might hurt the garlic..." He opened the garlic press, apologized to the garlic, closed it again, and then squeezed. I gave him the knife so he could scrape the garlic into the pan. Then I pulled out the Italian seasoning. We crushed that, and then put it in. We put the sauce on low heat and then let it simmer until the noodles were done.

I served it, he blessed it, and we ate it. And then Ryan started to talk. And talk. And talk some more. I sat and I listened, occasionally giving input and advice... I realized that I had been right about him not being okay earlier... I don't know if he had realized it though. By the time Ryan had finished talking, it was past 1 am. I pretty much got to be his shrink... I think he's better now though. Five hours of listening made me really tired, but five hours of talking made him more awake than he had been all day. When he finally left, I went to bed and pretty much passed out.

Summing Up the Last Few Weeks

Okay, so I've been ridiculously busy. I'm not sure how I got so busy, especially when I have a smaller workload that last semester. Whatever.

I've done way too much homework in the past month, gone on three dates (there will be another tomorrow), cleaned a lot, had some good meals, and ... that's pretty much it. Sad, isn't it?

It has become popular belief (among my roommates at least) that I am way too busy for my own good. And... they're probably right, but I didn't really think there was anything I could do about it. I just kept doing homework... and more homework... and more?

Last Saturday was especially ridiculous, and I suppose I'll tell you what I can remember about it, since it pretty much sums up my current life patterns.

It was bright and sunny when I woke up that morning. And so was I. And I don't know where Ashley was. But it seemed like the opportune moment to tidy up my room. And then, after I had done that, I realized that since it was eight on a Saturday morning, I probably had several hours in the apartment to myself while my other roommates slept. So... I went grocery shopping. I spent all but seventy cents on my meal plan. I proceeded to clean the kitchen.

And then, as I was putting the dishes from the dishwasher away... I realized just how ridiculously unorganized the cupboards were...

I'm not OCD, I promise. But occasionally, when I've had enough sleep and don't have anything particularly stressful occupying my attention, I have little bouts of obsession-compulsion... this was one of those times. Definitely.

Each cupboard I opened revealed a new scene of chaos... and each would summon a shiver down my spine and a twitch in my eye. With the realization the contents of our cupboards were often in plain sight since Jackie has an odd and nasty inability to close cupboard doors once she opens them, I set out to organize them. All of them.

I discovered lots of strange surprises. Dishes that hadn't at all come clean in the dishwasher, but had been put back in the cupboard anyway. Disgustedly, I pulled these out, opened the dishwasher, and put the guilty dishes inside after scrubbing the guck off of them. I left the dishwasher open, ready to receive more offending dishes... but I would later regret this.

I'm not observant enough to know which of my roommates are guilty of all of the offending things that I found in the cupboards... but all these things did was feed the flames of my temporary-OCD-ness. I finally got up to the top shelf of the cupboard above our sink. It held a jumbled mess of what I suspected to be Tupperware.

I pulled up a chair up next to the open dishwasher, right where I could work with whatever happened to be up there. Among the mess, I found tacky, empty plastic containers like you would usually buy at the grocery store, but containing a butter spread or something.

If we were poor and used Tupperware enough that the plastic containers we did own were insufficient for the demands of our apartment's normal usage patterns... I would understand why we would keep them. But honestly... I think we have way too much Tupperware as it is. All these flimsy plastic containers were doing were collecting dust and taking up space. Oh, and provoking a nasty twitch in my right eye.

I made an executive decision to throw them out. Which required getting down off the chair and placing the offenders in the trash can. My arms laden with junk, I successfully turned around while atop the chair. But I lost grip of one the plastic things in my hand... which flew to my left, above the dishwasher.

(The following happened all within two seconds.)

I wasn't thinking. My hand reached out to grab it, and as I caught it, I realized I had just compromised my balance on the chair. Badly. I came crashing down halfway into the dishwasher.

Yelping out in pain, I leapt back up onto the chair, but not at all very gracefully. Instead of resting on the chair as I had hoped to, I realized that I hadn't landed quite as I'd hoped to... and the chair and I fell... the other way.

Crash.

I lay sprawled on the tile, the tacky plastic things crushed and broken (I told you they weren't worth keeping...). The chair creaked angrily, threatening to come apart. I moaned. I swear I must have hit or smashed every square inch of my body.

I now had an instant headache. But strangely, this was the minorest of the many hurts I now noticed. I got up slowly... threw the evil plastic fragments in the trash... and limped to the hallway.

To my surprise, none of my sleeping roommates had woken from the horrid noises I had just made.

I limped to the couch. And collapsed.

Ow. OW. Owwwwwwwww. There wasn't any blood, just a strange stinging sensation all over. My left leg hurt in particular. I think that is what collided most violently with the chair. I lifted up my pant leg... to discover that it was already purpling with what had declared itself a nasty bruise. Ugh. My right knee hurt as well (this was what I think hit the dishwasher first), but it was just pink with irritation. My hands and arms stung with pain from flailing around and unsuccessfully trying to find a handhold. My head had hit something... I think the ground.

Whatever.

At least my apartment was clean.

I spent the next several hours doing homework... namely calculus. And... more calculus. My brain was working so slowly that I'm not sure how I was thinking at all. I trudged through my homework. Problem by problem... Ugh. I was starting to get sooo mad at this homework, because I wasn't getting the right answers immediately.

It soon happens that I am trying out my hand at primal scream therapy. "YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRR

RRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!" I yell angrily at my homework, dissatisfied enormously with it. My roommates peek in to see if I am all right. No. No. Jenna is not all right. Calculus is taking so much longer than it should. Like... I estimated it would take me two hours. I was going on six hours. I hope you understand my frustration. I was MAD at this homework for not cooperating with me. If I had looked in the mirror, I may have seen steam coming out of my ears.

Ding.

'Mid textbook-throw, I look around for the source of this mysterious sound.

Ding. Ding.

Oh! My instant messenger! Someone is talking to me! I consider whether or not to answer it. I was positively fuming and might not be the most pleasant being to talk to at the moment. And it was nine'o'clock at night. Well, I decided I would rather talk to a person than to my calculus homework... I might talk more civilly to someone with feelings.

I look over at my computer screen. Hm, it's Ryan. I determine that I am not going to look at my homework for at least another half-an-hour. I glare at it angrily and I talk to him... but alas! I suppose it is impossible for me to talk to someone without leaking out how I am feeling.

Ryan inquires what I've been doing all day... I reply, Homework. What kind? Calculus. Just calculus? Yes... all day... and I'm not done! And I have more! I've got physics and biology and health and dance and... All day? How long is all day? Six hours on calculus.

Hmm... usually when something takes me all day, it means I need a break, Ryan says.

I don't have time for a break! I'm never going to be done with all this homework! Never! Neeevvvveeerrr!

Ryan obviously disagreed. Wanna go an a walk?

A walk? Hm. Here is where that horrible moment where your brain splits into two distinct voices and they start arguing.

No. Don't do it. You have way too much to do. Way too much.

Aw, but I'm sick and tired of calculus. It isn't even interesting, or fun, or cute, or...

You'll never get done. If you go on a walk, you won't be able to do any more homework tonight, and you'll have to do it on Sunday!

Or... I could do it Monday morning. I can't go on walk then...

NO! You promised yourself you would finish all your homework BEFORE Monday. BEFORE! That means TONIGHT!

But I haven't been on a date with him for... two whole weeks?

YOU'RE TOO BUSY!!!

But I told him no to that date on Thursday and he was really sad...

You were too busy... and you're even busier now... you have two midterms next week.

It's nine, and I've been working allllll day!

At this point, one voice kicks the other's shin.

Shut up. I'm going.

So... I go out into the cold outside. So incredibly cold. It's like... twenty degrees... (warmer than last week, but still). But... I don't feel cold. I imagine if you could see stress, you'd see them radiating off of me like heat waves.

We start walking. "Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm fine, I just have (insert incredibly long list of things to do before Monday here)..." I think I was hyperventilating... or something.

He looked at me sideways-like. "Jenna. I am not a physics assignment."

Ahhh! Physics! Oh no. "Oh no no no no... I have a physics midterm this week. And a physics homework assignment. And a reading assignment..."

"Nope. There is only the sidewalk... and the snow... and you're on a date... and you don't have to worry about anything..."

With that, we started exploring campus. Last time we went on a walk we explored all over the north side of campus, and it had been considerably warmer. We did a lot of random things... crossed the bridge, wandered around the Wilk, found a wall map and made each other find the other's hometowns... rummaged through the recycling receptacles looking for today's comic pages in the newspaper... drew little cartoon men... realized we weren't sure if cotton candy was just sugar or if there were something else in it... invaded a computer lab to research about cotton candy (just sugar and food coloring, apparently... the trick is the machine)... found the barber shop... rode elevators... found the flower shop... and then it was eleven'o'clock. The campus buildings close down at eleven, so we went back outside.

Walking along the sidewalk to the intersection, somehow we got on the subject of jaywalking.

"I jaywalk all the time... but only at like... four in the morning when I'm walking to work, and not a single soul is awake. You know what's fun? Dancing on the Y in the intersection here..."

We had come to the intersection, in the middle of which was a large white painted Y.

"Have you done it before?" he asked.

"Yes." And the light turned green for us to cross.

I started to cross on the crosswalk... but Ryan dashed out to the center of the intersection and started to dance maniacally. There weren't any cars that had a green light... only cars with bewildered drivers stuck at the red light. I stayed on the crosswalk, the whole time laughing at him (I didn't know what else I was supposed to do!). He danced until the light turned yellow, at which point he dashed to the other side of the street, and swung around the light pole, me laughing the whole time.

We started to walk back to our apartments, but then we saw a large icicle. Ryan decided to try and get the icicle down. He jumped up and broke it off, but of course right below the icicle was a sheet of ice. Icicle in hand, his feet went all over the place... but he didn't fall or crack his head open. "Ah! I almost got myself killed!" Hm, that would make twice in one date, within five minutes.

I kept the icicle, and we kept walking. We got to my back door. And we both ignored it. Instead... I decided I wanted to know how deep the snow was. He tried to push me into it, but I ducked in time. However, I did drop the icicle. It didn't break, but he warned that if I did break it, it would hurt his feelings. We went around to the front of my hall, where there was a large patch of snow.

We left Ryan's phone number in big writing there so that when my hallmates came out they could see it. (Unfortunately for Ryan, the whole thing got annihilated by several inches of snow that came down that night.) I left my icicle next to it in the hopes that when the sun hit it, it would reflect the sunlight and attract people's attentions.

Then we went inside... and began looking at the wood grain on people's door. We found one door pattern that looked like the Salt Lake Temple. Then... there was this one door.

"It... looks like bacon."

"Bacon?"

"Yeah... there's the dark meat in the middle, and then the strips of fat on the side, and..."

He was right. That door looked like bacon. And, of course, we had to tell our friends that lived behind that door. We knocked. And, well, I guess since it was nearly midnight, no one inside had been expecting visitors. Patrice eventually opened the door, but we had to wait for awhile. She answered groggily (we feared she had been sleeping, but no... she had been doing homework) and looked at us with a bewildered expression as we blankly informed that her door looked like bacon. She looked quite confused when we bid her adieu.

Well, guys aren't allowed in the girl's hall after midnight on Saturday... and vice versa. So guys were clearing out of the place. We kept talking, and then it was a minute 'till midnight.

"Aren't you going to leave?"

"Nope. I have a whole minute left." And then he hugged me... and he kept checking his watch... and then he hopped outside exactly as the second hand reached midnight. And then I went home, where I barely escaped getting grounded by my roommates, who had been watching chick flicks in my absence.

So this week I've done a whole bunch of homework.

And I have a date tomorrow (with Ryan, yes...). So... good night all.