Fall 2008 -- Meet the Roommates.

Here comes the start of a new year. I don't remember what I've told people about the upcoming madness, but here is what I'll be studying this semester... chemistry, physics, psychology, family history, the New Testament, tap dance, ballroom dance, and flexibilty. I'd say that's pretty well-rounded, eh?

I am again living in Monticello. This is the same place I was living for spring term. My room houses six girls: me, Rachel, Hillary, Shannon, Haylee, and Aubrey. We are all in our second year at BYU, except for Shannon, who is in her third. Rachel and Hillary are the same nutcases I lived with last year; Shannon, Aubrey, and Haylee are all new roommates.

I am also employed again. Among the jobs that had flexible enough hours to fix with my crazy class schedule were these: MTC dishroom worker, catering, and custodial. And I am kind of ashamed to say that the custodial job attracted me like a moth is attracted to a fire. I know! The last one I had was way too early to be considered humanly possible! Not to worry though. I work at nights and not in the early morning. And it shouldn't have that great of an impact on my social life because I have Friday and Saturday nights off -- two very important nights for BYU students to have available, if you know what I mean. I do work on Sunday, but I thought about it quite a bit, and I decided that would be alright.

The truth of the matter is, even BYU can't just shut down on Sundays. On Sundays you just have to remember not to take the task of cleaning up campus too lightly. You have to remember that the mission of the custodial crews is to create an environment where everyone has the opportunity to learn and feel the Spirit. I figure that's okay to do on Sunday, especially in dedicated buildings.

So, I work Sundays from 7pm to 10:30pm, and Mondays through Thursdays from 8:30pm to midnight -- in the library -- the Harold B. Lee Library. By far, the biggest building on campus, with the longest operating hours. Some of you older people may think those hours are a little late. I'm a college kid. Since spring term I've been up that late anyway. And my classes don't start until later in the morning, so I shouldn't be too sleep-deprived.

One major plus is I get to hear the cool closing music every night. [Just before closing, someone blasts some sort of music over the loud speakers so that everybody stops studying and leaves.] An even bigger plus? My pay... is pretty impressive for a custodial worker. I get $8.81/hr. And, since I worked six months last year in custodial, in two months I am eligible for a twenty cent raise... which means $9.01/hr. That's definitely not so bad... less Ramen and more steak... And, on Thursdays, we have... er... what we call "training meetings"... in which we all chill and eat food and watch a two-hour movie. While we are still being paid. I think this job may be a good thing.

Well, meet my roommates. [Disclaimer: I have only recently met Shannon, Haylee, and Aubrey. My descriptions of them may not be entirely accurate. Not even my first impressions are entirely accurate... :) ]

First, Rachel, from Bountiful, Utah.

Rachel's dad describes Rachel, Hillary, and I as three squirrels in a box with one nut. And possibly one video camera. Some of you have witnessed the variety of noises I can make. Rachel can do all of these in a much more squirrelly fashion than I can. However, over the course of the past year, we have pretty much invented a secret language. I am not entirely sure how to describe this to you. Perhaps some language samples?

Standard greeting... "Eeeeeeeeeeeee buuuuddeeee!" Repeat as desired. Can last for up to ten minutes. Common question... "Yabbadet?" This is translated as, "You have a date?"

And here is a conversation. Hint for interpretation: Speak aloud when reading. Other hints for context: I was considering working at Scoreboard Grill, in catering, or Brick Oven Pizza. Pudding is code for adventure. And there was a cute guy at Scoreboard Grill whose phone number Rachel wanted to acquire somehow.

Rachel: "Heh, mebbeewen'yoo gittajahba' dat skohbohd'pless, wee'shavv summpudd'ns! Bweehee!"
Me: "Butsai wansa jahba'n ketring'orit brikuven pitsuh. Isa'needs moola."
Rachel: "We'dasstoo. Akae, igissyakin gitajahbwe'rrya waht. ... Hirreekinn'giddajahbad sko'bohd!"

Congrats if you understood that.

Rachel is rather short... and, er, how shall I say? Compact weight. She has brown hair and green eyes and hands with short, little fingers. And she has quite a deep voice. She can hit lower notes that most of the men in my ward. In fact, my sister Becca was able to recognize Rachel on the phone because it sounded like I was talking to a man. She is also pretty darn tough. She chucks packages for a living... in FedEx Ground. Advice from her... Packages are filthy. Who knows where they've been. Scrub your packages, people!

Rachel writes... um... interesting stories in her free time, featuring pheonix-squirrels and tall, dark, ominous men whose hiccups sound like, "YOU'VE GOT FIVE SECONDS TO RUN!" She routinely comes up with crazy characters and then traps then in department stores and slowly kills them off. One by one. She has also studied war and weapons extensively (she even took History of Warfare last semester) and can write amazing battle scenes.

Rachel's current major is Food Industry Management. After graduating, she hopes to go on a mission, complete culinary school... and, as potential careers, she is considering the following: blacksmith, taxi driver in New York city, and Disneyland chef. Her dream house is a grain silo.

Her current suitor is a missionary who she has never met in New York, by the name of Elder Joshua Jolley. I mentioned him before. He sent her a tape recording of him reading aloud all of Deuteronomy 1 as well as three letter of recommendation. (Imagine that! Getting a package FROM a missionary. One you don't even know...). However, Rachel has rejected his proposal of marriage on the grounds that he is only six feet tall and his voice is higher than hers. Also, he is not nearly ominous enough, and he signs his love letters, "85% serious."

Second roommate -- Hillary, from North Salt Lake, Utah.

Hillary is slightly taller than Rachel. She has long, mousy heir and glasses. And, out of all of us, she is probably the most hyperactive. By far. She had ridiculous ADD and is a packrat. She is also likely to have seen every cartoon ever broadcast on the planet Earth. It is virtually impossible to get a hold of her on Saturday morning because she is likely to have been swallowed up alive by the incidence of Saturday morning cartoons. She especially likes the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. She dreams about them.

Despite her ADD and obsession with TMNT, which sometimes prevent her from studying most effectively, Hillary is brilliant. She aspires to do something in the medical field -- last I heard, it was an orthopedic surgeon. Although she has the soul of an angel, this slightly concerns me. I have visions of her randomly remembering some urgently exciting thing she saw on TMNT and bursting into story -- and then having an assistant remind her... "Um, Doctor? We're in the OR, remember?" Bless her soul, but I hope she never operates on me. I'd be in there forever because she'd keep forgetting that she was performing a surgery.

Although Hillary is going through all the pre-med classes, she is an English major. She loves, loves, loves to write. Sometimes, at night, she'll bolt upright with an idea, jot it down, and go back to sleep. Her pet piece of work right now involves a twin-sworded warrior woman by the name of Haika... who won't kill anyone. How that works, I don't know. She likes to knock people out... with... the... hilts... of... the... swords... Riiiiiiigggggghhhhhttttt...

Hillary is an angel, and couldn't ever hurt anyone. Not even on paper. She is awfully sweet, but is sometimes overly concerned for our health. She has been trained in first-aid and emergency response, so if any of us were to be injured, she is bound by law to tend to our injuries. At least that's what she says when trying to convince us not to do something stupid. She also likes to pile corn and asparagus onto our plates at dinner time. And, she has a strange habit of telling me as I drag myself out of bed how beautiful I am... but only when I am groggy. I am wondering if she thinks telling me that when my brain is half-conscious will somehow get the message "I am beautiful" into my subconscious...

It is because of Hillary that I cannot marry Ben Poulsen. Rachel thought it was a swell idea, but I reminded her that Hillary is desperately in love with him. [Not to mention that I've only met him once. At his farewell.] Although she would never be able to purposefully murder me for marrying the man she loves, she would probably attempt it and fail three times. And then, purely by accident, she'd somehow kill me through some outlandish method. I would die a horrible death drowning in hot cocoa because she made me laugh too hard while drinking it... and then poor Ben would be devastated by the violent death of his wife.

Shannon, from Mesa, Arizona.

Shannon is the roommate I share a room with. Like Hillary, she is majoring in English. She is short and slender, and has a round face that she has somehow managed to perfectly frame with short, brown hair. I met her on Monday. As far as I can tell thus far, she is a perfect little package of goodness. She is extremely neat and tidy. Somehow, no matter how I try to make my bed perfectly, the perfection of her bed makes my bed look messy.

She is kind of shy and dreadfully afraid of inconveniencing people. This may prove to be a problem, because I have a similar phobia. I am afraid that if there were ever a disagreement between us, it would never be addressed, because both of us would be too dreadfully shy to bring it up. However, I expect Shannon and I will get along quite well. Out of the blue one morning we began to talk a bit about the gospel and families and such. I spilled all my deep, dark secrets.

I am a little mystified at this. I can count on one hand, with fingers left over, how many people I've told my deep, dark secrets to. And usually I didn't tell them a thing until I had watched their every move for months. And somehow I was okay with telling her some of the things I hide after knowing her for three days. I don't know. I suppose you could say that things are just clicking into place.

Haylee, from Sandy, Utah.

I met Haylee on Thursday night. I have to crack her thick shell and see what sort of person is under there. She seems a bit shy and rather reserved. She, like the rest of us, has brown hair and pretty brown eyes. She was going to major in Accounting, but decided instead on Information Systems.

However, she seems easy to get along with, and, quite importantly, not judgmental. Which in all likelihood means will get along with everyone fabulously.

Aubrey, from somewhere in Australia. I keep forgetting exactly where, but I suppose it doesn't matter too much to me since -- in all likelihood -- I am likely to never get to go there.

So -- of course -- she has one of those remarkably cool accents, plus a fairly deep and pleasantly husky voice to make it even cooler. If Australian chocolate had a voice, it would sound like Aubrey. She's got curly, brown hair with hazel eyes although she isn't very tall. Pretty much, all I can say about her is that she's gorgeous.

From the looks of things, she cooks quite a bit. She has quite the arsenal of spices... we had to move our spice collection to a larger cupboard. Haylee reports that Aubrey has pretty much been all over the world. She has the souvenirs to prove it, including exotic cookbooks which she uses pretty often. Among her other souvenirs from her world travels are some exciting clothes. She has an outfit with poofy pants reminiscent of Princess Jasmine's. And a matching scarf.

She is majoring in Middle Eastern Studies, I think, or something close to it. She speaks a little bit of Arabic and is learning Hindi this year. She writes her shopping list in Arabic.

Personality-wise... I haven't gotten to see much of it, except that she doesn't talk that much.

EXCEPT...

Haylee and Aubrey were roommates last year in Gates Hall. They know each other quite well. Together, they are a perfect pair of extroverts. But alone, they don't talk much.

That wouldn't be so bad, except they have a tendency to isolate themselves in the room they share. Which means the rest of us run the risk of never getting to know them due to never seeing them. I fear that I will be living with two strangers for all of the next two semesters. Especially since what I have seen of the two of them... suggests I wouldn't enjoy a lot of activities we might share.

Haylee and Aubrey appear to be the perfect stereotype of girly girls at first glance.

They went shopping today, spending hundreds of dollars without half a thought. Our apartment is now fully stocked with decorations, a fish, and fairy lights. So I now know I can't ever go with them when they go shopping. I won't be able to buy ANYTHING compared to what they'll get. I would be exposed as a pennypincher instantly.

Their bedroom is interesting. Pink. With a wall devoted to pictures of, in their words, "hot men..." Mainly guys who star in chick flicks and Disney movies and such.

It also appears that they're obsessed with how they look, although Haylee is much more self-conscious about it. They have to be wearing something in style and gorgeous. I've never seen them not wearing makeup, even in the early morning or late night...

Haylee runs and hides if she's wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt, apologizing profusely for looking like a hobo. At this I blink. Look at her. And marvel. She's apologizing for looking prettier than I probably will on my wedding day. I don't understand. I really don't.

Perhaps it is strange to feel like this... and I know I shouldn't ever feel like this, but truthfully, it kind of freaks me out. It makes ME want to apologize and go hide in my room for looking like a hobo. I mean, I'm not always wearing makeup. I'll even go out of the house and into public, all day, without it. And the sort of clothes Haylee apologizes for looking like a hobo in, are nicer than the majority of items in my wardrobe.

So... I don't know. Haylee, Aubrey, and I will have no problem coexisting peacefully. They seem to be easy to live with. However, developing a friendship might be harder, especially for me. They're so different, and I have yet to find something I have in common with them, except perhaps being female, enjoying good food, and requiring cleanliness. I'm a little nervous.

In fact, I am nervous about this entire semester in general.

We'll see. I hope it works out... Wish me luck.

Love, Jenna the Queasy.