Return to BYU Part II: Men with Faces and Light!

Monday morning we woke up fairly earlyish -- today was the day for emptying my storage unit.

I got dressed, Rachel got dressed, and... Rachelle came over. Angel Rachelle was going to help me move back in! I was getting out my paperwork for the storage unit, when -- VRRRRRRRROOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMM! The apartment sprang to life -- especially the blender -- and the three of us jumped. I sprinted to the kitchen to turn off the blender. We had power! The clocks on the kitchen appliances were blinking happily, and the refrigerator was humming with glee... the lights were shining brightly, and, of course, the residents were jumping with joy. Electricity is niiiice.

Rachelle got into her cute little silver Civic, and Rachel and I got into her teal and decaying Mazda, and we drove to Orem. At one point, Rachel and I lost Rachelle. And I hadn't brought my cell phone. So, using Rachel's dying cell, we called Hillary and begged her to find Rachelle's number. Hillary didn't have it, but she hung up and proceeded to tear apart her room in search of an old 68th ward directory. I sighed. "Well," I said dejectedly, "I'll go sign an Intent to Vacate Form and you can go park where she'll see you if see was looking for us."

I went and filled out all the paperwork necessary, and went back outside to -- Rachelle! She was waving happily at me. Now... where is Rachel? Crud. I sighed. We found her near the main road, then I jumped from Rachelle's car to Rachel's car (Rachel didn't have the code to get into the gate). We got into the storage facility and then drove over to my happy little spider-infested storage unit, O16. We broke in (with our keys, of course) and proceeded to... cringe and cough at the dust that flew up in the air at the disturbance of the door. And then we winced as we watched the spiders scurrying away from the sudden sunlight pouring into the unit. Poor creatures. We took brooms to the pesky eight-legged creatures, but after determining that they were all harmless daddy long legs... we were a little less disturbed at our arachnid infestation. We still ferociously took my happy green broom and swept off all the boxes in attempts to destroy any stow away spiders and/or webs, but we weren't quite as concerned as before.

We very carefully packed Rachelle's and Rachel's cars, swept out the unit in an attempt to unhouse as many spiders as we could, and then happily drove back to Provo. However, upon approaching our apartment... no parking spaces. Anywhere. Finally, Rachel found a teeny space on a street kind of close to us, but unfortunately, she had to parallel park to get into it, which she isn't very good at, and definitely isn't good at. Rachelle, however, could not find a parking space. She parked illegally in the lot right next to our little red brick building, and we rushedly emptied her car.

Then -- Rachel and Rachelle switched the places of their cars. Now Rachel was parked illegally, and Rachelle was in that teeny little spot on the road far away. We rushedly emptied Rachel's car, and then -- we determined that we ought to go buy some groceries. In Rachelle's car though -- her Civic had air conditioning, whereas Rachel's Mazda didn't. So, Rachel and Rachelle switched car spaces again. Then we all clambered into Rachelle's vehicle and journeyed to the nearest Smith's.

Sadly, I had a mere thirty-six dollars in my checking account, and a happy little Benjamin my dad gave me (he was concerned that I wouldn't be able to live on thirty-six dollars). So I was careful, but I still ended up buying a lot of stuff -- I mean, the refrigerator was bone dry. Real food is good. All the lines for the real cashiers were full -- and the self-service stations were empty. Unfortunately, those don't accept one-hundred-dollar bills. And the total came to... forty dollars. So... I inserted a five I hadn't realized I had, and then paid for the rest with my debit card. Which effectively lowered the balance in my checking account to a scrawny $1.70. That made me sick inside. Darn it, I need to get that Benjamin into my checking account! It's all I have! I could be mugged any second now! This is dangerous. However... that would require getting to the bank. Which wouldn't be so bad if I had a Wells Fargo account, since they have one in the BYU Bookstore... but I don't. So I live in constant and paranoid risk of mugment. I've never been mugged, and I would hate for this to be the first time -- I mean, it's a hundred bucks. That enough to feed me for... I don't know. A month or longer! I could totally live on potatoes, and scrambled eggs, and other ridiculously cheap sorts of food, and I could totally make it last me for forever!!!

Ooh, sorry, got off track.

Rachelle dropped us off at our apartment and left, since there wasn't any legal parking, and we brought our food inside.

Commence the unpacking! Box after box after box of stuff!

I unpacked all the gajillions of canned food first, which I had used to fill a garbage can that I used to use as a mop bucket. Then there was a ginormous clear bin full of spices and other non-perishable foods that I didn't want mice to get at. I opened the lid. And ohhh... The distinct aroma of a spice cupboard wafted up to my nose. Ah... Spices. The essence of flavor! I filled my cupboards happily. I moved on to the many boxes of dishes. Then the boxes of blankets and bedding. Then the boxes of winter clothing. Then the boxes of school supplies. Then the boxes of piano music and old school books. Then... the printer and the CD player... and... my goodness. It's all out. And put in place. And happy.

And... goodness. It was a lot easier to unpack than it was to pack it all up in the first place. Especially since I was keenly aware of all the nooks and crevices in which I could hide things. And I had already created an organizational system last term. It was a happy, triumphant feeling indeed.

Shortly thereafter, I took a shower to clean off all the dustiness I now felt from the storage unit encounters, and then Rachel and I went to dinner with her grandfather, aunt, mother, father, and brother at Chuck-A-Rama. We stuffed ourselves with not-cold-canned-ravioli-

goodness. Then we went back home.

And it was Monday evening. And I now had nothing to do!

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

I went to answer. A blond guy with glasses and brown eyes and two girls (one brunette and one blonde) looked at me. The brunette looked familiar... her name was Michelle and had been in my FHE group last semester.

"Hey," said the guy. "Want to do a makeshift Family Home Evening, since nobody lives at BYU anymore?"

"Of course," said I, and Rachel agreed when she came down. "What are we doing?"

He shrugged. "We were thinking of going to the malt shoppe."

Rachel and I introduced ourselves, the blond introduced himself as Mark, and the girls introduced themselves as Michelle and Shalise.

We had already eaten and were quite full. But FHE was not about stuffing ourselves, it was about having FHE. So, we continued down the red brick building gathering as many girls as possible. Only then did we try to recruit the guys. It is a universal fact that is it easier to convince guys to do something with girls than it is to convince girls to do something with guys. Because we had a fair number of females in the group, and only one guy thus far... it was easy after that. Soon we had more guys with us than girls, including some guys I recognized from spring term.

We walked down to the Malt Shoppe, which was, thank goodness, within walking distance. There was time to talk.

Mark and I finally figured out that we had met before -- he was the faceless man I met with the fantastic voice. I also found out that he was a shameless flirt. He was trying to describe to me a sweet burger... "You know those burgers that have that slightly sweet taste?"

I shook my head no. "Like... they're sweeter than most burgers," he says. "I have no idea what you're talking about," says I.

He was a little bummed that I didn't know what he was talking about, but he continued. "I don't know... the bun is extra sweet." He paused. "Kind of like you."

I just laughed, although I nearly choked on the laughter since the lame pick-up line was so sudden and unexpected. I looked at him more carefully... am I going to have to watch this one? I don't mind the guys that flirt with everyone. It's the ones that single you out that you have to watch out for. Mark just grinned. "Was that subtle enough for you? You'll quickly find out that I'm that one that's always flirting."

"Aha," I said. "Thanks for the warning. That means I don't have to take you seriously."

He nodded. "Yep. Exactly."

We got to the Malt Shoppe where everyone except Rachel and I ordered something tasty. One of my old home teachers, Chris, had a bunch of quarters, and noticed Rachel and I admiring a jukebox. We were flipping through the songs, and suddenly, Chris nudged a quarter into my fingers. I grinned, and punched in a number.

The jukebox got busy quick, but it startled me at how loud it was. Chris looked down at the jukebox and then at me. He seemed to approve of my choice of music, but also looked mystified. "What is this?"

I grinned. "E.L.O." I replied. "Don't Bring Me Down." He may not have heard it before, but he liked it, judging from the look on his face. Encouraged by my choice of music, others in our makeshift FHE group found songs on the jukebox. We all sat down, and, aside from Rachel and I, ate our goodies. Talked to each other about random stuff. And suddenly, the jukebox broke into blatant triple swing.

Here is what happens to you once you've taken social dance at BYU. You sense the beat and you know -- this song is a triple swing, or a waltz, or a cha cha... and you feel the horrible urge to get up and dance. However, in order to do this you must have a partner of the opposite sex. So, here I was, just stewing to dance. Fingers and feet itching. However, I rather sucked at swing. I suppressed the desire, and I would have gotten away with not dancing at all had I been the only one afflicted.

Suddenly, one the guys whose name I unfortunately did not catch leapt up. "Who wants to triple swing?! I need to swing. This is a swing song!" He looked around at the girls. "Don't any of you know how to dance?"

Chris somehow knew I could and pointed firmly at me. So the guy who wanted to dance zoned in on me. "He's pointing at you. You can dance...?" He offered his hands. Well, I wanted to dance, didn't I? The malt shoppe wasn't much of a dance floor, but it would have to do.

The dancing began. I was surprised at how naturally it came, even if triple swing wasn't my strength in dancing. He wasn't the best lead, but then I wasn't the best follower, so it was okay. He twirled me around like a top, which earned lots of cheering and whistling from the crowd behind me. This was a little bizarre... since when could I dance and look goos while doing it? This must be a recent development. The end of the song came, and he dipped me.

I love dips. They don't teach that in class, but it's happened to me once before, and that was with Zach Smith, who actually was the first to try and teach me triple swing. Sniff. And he is gone on his mission. Sniff. He also doesn't reply to mail ever. Sniff. Dancing also reminds me of Clifton. Sniff. Who is also gone. Sniff. And then I remembered that it was when I was going to dance with Clifton that Ryan called to tell me where he was going on his mission. Sniff. Ack, and he is gone too! They're all gone! All of them! It was like a whole row of dominoes. A whole row of very sad dominoes (for me, definitely NOT for them) I had been trying very hard to keep standing. But sad day, now I am all bummed and remembering that all my guyfriends from last year are gone on missions and I won't see them for a while. That always makes me sad.

Well, the dance was over. And here I was missing my friends that I used to dance with. I was very quiet the rest of time, and just eavesdropped on everyone else's conversations. We walked home, and I went to bed, a little lonelier and deader than I had been before FHE. One of those internal voices always says, Don't be sad. They are where they need to be, and you are where you are supposed to be, and the work is going forth, and -- Then the other voice says, Shut up. I know that. Stop thinking about that. The retort: Just because I shouldn't be sad doesn't mean I'm not. Just because it is more appropriate to not miss people quite so much doesn't mean that's what is going on... And soon it is a whole internal argument that even my internal poet gets involved in, starting to quote Dana Gioia's "Unsaid"...

"So much of what we live goes on inside --
The diaries of grief, the tongue-tied aches
Of unacknowledged love are no less real
For having passed unsaid. What we conceal
Is always more than we dare confide.
Think of the letters that we write our dead."

The unfortunate reality is that pretending not to miss your friends doesn't make you miss them any less. I'm not one for poetry. But I like this one. It is kind of comforting, at least for me. Ooh. You know AP English made a lasting impression on you when you feel the great urge to analyze this. I did analyze it... for fun. And I thought I hated poetry analysis. For your sake, I did not include my analysis of Gioia's poem.

Also for your sakes, I have not included all the supercool stuff I've been learning about the brain this week. I've been doing Education Week and I've been to nearly every neuroscience or psychology-ish class offered. I am starting to notice the intense excitement I feel when I'm learning about the brain. Right now I am resisting every urge to tell you all about the pre-frontal cortex and the limbic system. I want to tell you all about nerve cells and dendrites and such. I want to tell you all about how a child's brain develops and how myelination affects the "terrible two's" and the teenagers. I want to explain to you the basic differences between the male brain and the female brain and how that translates into behavior. I want to tell you about brain disorders and how medications like antidepressants work. I want to tell you how stress damages your brain. I want to tell you how your brain stores memories. And I most especially want to tell you how prayer affects your brain... However, I rather feel that you wouldn't be half as interested as I am. So I will spare you.


I will write again soon, and I hope I didn't bore you.
Love, Jenna.

Oh dear.

I'm a busy girl.
Yesterday I took two midterms and did a lab... today... I took another midterm.

I also got my first paycheck yesterday! It was about two hundred dollars. I bought myself a BYU sweatshirt... because it's darn cold up here. Today it's raining. A lot.

Tonight I get to go to the General Relief Society thingy... Shweet.

Well, about last week.

Monday! Ahh!
So I went to work, then to all my classes, and then I came home and watched Oklahoma!... which I borrowed from Ryan. Then I set off to make cookies... Oh!
I'm pretty sure I haven't emailed off the witty cookie piece I wrote Monday night. I posted it on Facebook, but I don't think I emailed it off. So... here's that. Viva copy and paste!

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Cookies: An Epic Tale
I Am NOT Having Eight Children: A Rant from Someone Who Likes Things Just So

Disclaimer: I am not incriminating anyone in my FHE group at all… in fact, I love them all bunches. I need to vent out my frustrations… which I like to do in comical prose. I may have exaggerated a few details as per artistic license.

Ok… so… we had our first family home evening group thingy where I, Momma Jenna, was in charge. Oy, that was a HASSLE. So, I figured I'd make cookies for random people in our ward, right? And then have a batch for us to eat? (That's what everyone wanted to do... but no one wanted to be in charge of it... go figure). Theoretically, that would have worked. Except I figured that everyone wouldn't be able to keep their paws off of my cookie dough. So I more than doubled the amount of cookies I'd make. In my head this made perfect sense and might even solve some problems.

I started making dough at three after watching Oklahoma!… and here's where the problem comes in. My roommates (especially Jackie) seem to have a sixth sense that knows when sweets are being made. They also all seem to be addicted to raw cookie dough. They were eating dough all the while I was attempting to mix a HUMONGOUS quadruple batch… And I am wondering if the cookie-ingredient proportions were at all what they should be, because as I mixed it together, it disappeared.

It was once perfect cookie dough.

So of course I made a humongous mess mixing together cookies in such titanic proportions. Thankfully Rachel did some dishes, but really I was left to scour the kitchen alone, all the while thinking, "Oh man… I have history reading I should be doing…"

Somehow our kitchen got clean. And then the boys came.

Hands immediately reach into the cookie dough I spent forever making… Oooh, I am sooo mad. I karate kick Clifton, my little brother, in the chest, but gently, and really only with my toe. He doesn't seem to get the message. He swipes some more later, and that is when I drag him outside and lock him out. Unfortunately, Rochelle and Ashley happen to feel merciful at the time, and let him back in almost immediately.

I don't know how many times I explained that the pre-made cookie dough (my sweat, blood, and tears!) was for people in our ward and was off-limits for eating. Alex and Jon were mostly the only ones actually mixing together our cookie dough (which I yelled many times was free-reign for eating... but no one seemed to comprehend that there was a batch of cookie dough I'd let them eat). I'm sorry to complain, but I confess I wasn't quite happy with the consistency of the batch the boys made and was glad that was the batch we were keeping and not giving away.

Oh, but what I really couldn't stand was all the bickering and roaring laughter (I don't mind laughter, it's when I can't hear my own thoughts that it becomes a problem) and mean jokes and funny snapshots… it would have been fun… IF I wasn't trying to make cookies at the time. See, cooking and baking is like... my zen-mode, second only to church... (How else do I get cooking inspiration???) Most of the time I am perfectly willing to step out and initiate silliness and chaos… but I need order. I know there are certain times where you sit down and have a serious (or more serious-than-usual, as is the case with me) face... which for me is in the kitchen.

We colored paper plates with random holiday greetings (and I mean REALLY random)… signed them, put a dozen cookies on each plate, and then went cookie caroling to random dorms in our ward (we tried to give half to people we knew and half we didn't).

In total we made enough dough to theoretically cork out twelve dozen cookies. (I made two thirds of it myself.) We only made five-dozen cookies. All the rest of the dough had already been eaten. So now… here I am, left with a derelict kitchen, up way past my bedtime, and a little too frustrated to sleep… although a thank you letter from Ryan did help (thanks by the way… I really appreciated that!).

If I go to bed now, I shall get five hours of sleep… Oh, the incredulities!!!

I think I am quite feeling back to my silly ol' self. Not that that helps any… it's hard to sleep when you feel like dancing.

♥Jenna

P.S. The JFSB is always neat and tidy. I think I can completely destress there tomorrow morning... neat... and tidy... while rockin' out to Batman of course!

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So... that was Monday. Tuesday was very full and no exactly exciting.

Wednesday and Thursday I went to tutor at a nearby elementary school. Me 'n' Elsa (the girl I tutor) are already friends. So... here is about when I dash off to a study group... Well, actually I have another Facebook entry on this experience... But... I think in order to keep this email within tolerable lengths, I shall summarize it.

I forgot about tutoring and completely scheduled something in that time slot... a study group with Ryan, Dallin, Will, Roy, Mindy, Liz, and Claire. I had everything planned... and was falling asleep happily on my bed, when...

BAM!!! My forehead hits the shelf above my bed as I jerk up and out of bed, horrified with the realization that I forgot about tutoring. I instantaneously go from very much relaxed and stress-free to skyscraper-like stress levels. I have a throbbing headache spreading from my aching forehead through to the rest of my skull, and I feel really bad about missing this study group thingy... so I miss it...

But then... there's Will... who happens to be a history genius similar to my friend Zack in Arizona. Who kind of timidly asks if I want to study with him later since I missed the study group. Of course I say OK, cuz... well, I have to admit I suck at history and he happens to be darned good at it.

Yesterday... OK, funny story. My roommate's car wouldn't start one day, and they are already late to a concert... and then they see two guys walking to their car... and "Hey!!! You guys! Can we have a ride?" The guys give them a ride. And then give my roommates their number so they can get a ride home.

However, my roommates walk home, and Jackie decides she's going to ask the guys over as a thank you and have them eat the apple rolls we made. Well, I reminded her that she wouldn't let me give Oklahoma back because she hadn't seen it... and so she stuck it in.

Alas, the two boys come over and scarf the apple rolls, and then sit down and... don't leave. They are watching Oklahoma with us. And that's a darn long movie. And... well, there's a whole lotta stuff about marriage and kissing in that movie. Perfect set up for Jackie to feel awkward.

I was going to go to bed, but poor Jackie would feel so weird watching that by herself with two guys. So... I stay and watch it again. And I make funny comments at the awkward parts to make Jackie feel better. They finally leave at 11:30... and poor Jackie looks exhausted. Haha.

Well, I don't have anything else to say. Buh bye now!

Crazy Week!

Well, it wasn't particularly exciting... but I did promise people to keep in touch and a few people told me they looked forward to hearing about my dates. Soo... I feel obligated... or something.

Last Monday was long and horrid. I only had classes in the morning, and I had already finished my homework for all my classes on Tuesday except for one classes worth of reading. I figured one day would be enough to read it all. Boy, was I wrong. I read for twelve straight hours, and only read half of it (whoops). A little interruption that night was Family Home Evening... where my fhemates proceeded to nominate me as FHE Mom. One of my roommates were also nominated, so we rock-paper-scissored it, and I lost. So I'm FHE Mom. Whoot?

Dad happens to be the guy I went out with the following day. His name is Jon, and his family is from Peru and he went on his mission to Puerto Rico. He took me to the Museum of Art to look at some Minerva Teichart. I liked the paintings, and it was hard to talk much to him while we were in the MOA. However, once he took me to the Creamery and got us a burger and ice cream, I discovered that he really likes to talk. Which is a little eerie because his yell would be like my hoarse whisper. He's extremely quiet. But apparently likes to talk... about everything. So mostly I sat there and ate, listened, and gave an occasional input when I could hear him. It was nice, but afterwards my ears hurt from the constant strain to listen to a barely audible whisper in a crowded Creamery.

Wednesday... I squandered. I really don't remember that day at all. Oh wait! It all comes clear! I had an evil calculus assignment. One of my friends in calculus did a little investigating and figured out that people in 400 level math course were learning the same thing: proof by induction. See, the honors sections of Calculus 1 get extra assignments... like that. It did it, but it took a while... and a lot of backwards thinking. I also had an interview with the bishop (oh no! a calling! save me save me! :D) where he did not give me a calling but asked all about me. He hinted that I would likely only be made FHE Mom, and nothing else. Viva 18 credits and a parttime job? Sweet. Yes, that was my Wednesday.

Thursday! Oh man, I started work at 4am! The job itself is an extremely fun and exciting custodial job (no overstatement intended here) and I really don't mind the early hour. Especially since I go to bed a lot sooner than the average college student. Classes on the other hand... they might have been a little more exciting if you get my meaning. At night time, I went with my friend Sarah to an ROTC Social down in the canyon. That was exciting if I may say so. How can war games and food not be exciting. It's kind of fun to dodge marshmallow bullets while crawling army style on the ground looking for ammo for your Nerf gun. As soon as I found ammo, one of the enemy charged over to my side, and before I could shoot, I was tragically light-sabered to death. I did manage to kill a few of the enemy before I was taken out though. The only awkward thing about that social was that Sarah, some other girls she brought with her, and I were the only single girls at all. All the females there were either wives, girlfriends, or in the ROTC themselves. I got asked several times whose girlfriend I was. Which was a little freaky. What was freakier was when some random (not really, but I thought so at the time) guy started talking to me... he knew my name already, and started naming off a few of my classes by name and asking how I liked them. But then I realized that it was Isaac (I had to ask him what his name was)... apparently he is both in my ward, and in two of my classes. Wow, I'm very observant, aren't I? After another sickening ride home, I went to bed feeling quite carsick. Next time I go I shall require Dramamine.

Yesterday I think I liked the best. I went to work again at 4am, and did lots of paperwork and took trash out of every office (oo, fun?). Then we all ate breakfast together: breakfast burritos, bagels, cereal, juice... I loved it. Best thing was, we were all still getting paid for eating breakfast. :D Then I headed off to all my classes, where I was still extremely tired from my late night adventure with the ROTC. After class I went and had an interview with one my peer mentors who just wanted to get to know me a little better... and then I headed home for lunch. I munched on honeydew and something else, and then I set off on an adventure...to the physics lab! I have to admit I was absolutely thrilled to be able to calculate the acceleration due to gravity with a percentage error of 0.1%. I'd never done anything quite so spectacular before... but then again, having high tech university equipment versus old ghetto ancient Chandler High School equipment might have made a big difference. Yes, I realize I am a nerd and that only nerds would be thrilled about something like that. Furthermore, I felt this urge to email my old physics teacher, Mr. Knust, and relate to him the excitement I felt at an experiment actually going right... for once :D.

Well, after that I came home, thoroughly energized despite my lack of adequate sleep, and decided to do math homework... while listening to the Batman Begins soundtrack at full blast to drown out loud music next door. Very ominous, that was. Made math so much more exciting. And then... I turned on my Pirates soundtrack... to counter our neighbor's booming music and also to celebrate that I was going to be Pirates 3 at the dollar theatre that night! Yes, it was a date. I did homework until he called me... and informed me that he was standing outside. I wonder if he knocked... if he had I probably wouldn't have heard it due to Batman and Pirates booming bass throughout the hall.

So I went and saw Pirates with Ryan, which I absolutely loved. Then we went to Creamery (which seems to be a recurring date motif) and got ice cream. We walked back to the lobby of my hall, where we ate our ice cream... and talked. For a long time. About the most random things... like the game (which you all just lost by the way) and high school... and classes... and professors... and cookies and brownies. Apparently when he and his roommate made brownies for the first time and left them for the girls in our apartment, his roommates were disapproving. But after our positive response... they decided it was a genius idea. They proceeded to make a batch of 110 cookies and then drop them all off in front of girls' doors, making sure to leave a note about who they were from. I thought that was quite silly. Of course, they got tons of cookies in return.

By the time I casually asked what time it was, and to our surprise discovered we had been on the date for over six hours and that it was almost midnight (ahhh!). I went inside where my roommates were all thrilled to see me ("We thought you had been kidnapped!!! But then you were on a date... but you were gone for sooo long!"). We looked out the window, and saw people sitting on the grass outside our hall... We decided to creep them out. We took Hillary's cardboard cutout of Orlando Bloom and stuck him in front of the window, so he was staring at them. They soon left.

I eventually wandered off to bed, and now here I am this morning writing. Exciting?