Icy Tumble.

Happy Valentine's Day and President's Day! :D I have some stories for you!

Valentine's Day morning I woke up mightily early to get in line to buy a new contract for next year. I decided that although I despise moving with a passion -- I'm going to move out of dear little 366. I wasn't sure at first why I should move out. It came as a shock; Sunday night, out of the blue, I had the strong impression that I should not live here next year. I was quite confused. I'm happy here. I love Hillary and Rachel, who have resolved not to move out of 366 at all. Possibly not ever. I like my ward, I'm close to campus, etc.

At dinner group though, I mentioned that I wanted to move into a different apartment, and my neighbor Josie (who I don't actually know very well) mentioned that she too wanted to move out. We got to talking, and we soon realized that we'd be good roommates, and thus we resolved to room together next year. It was strange, but I felt really calm and peaceful about it, although neither of us had any clue where we'd end up living. I had a roommate, but no room.

I worked up my bravery several times during the week and visited a bajillion women's apartments in the ward, because although I felt like I shouldn't live in 366, I had the peculiar feeling that I'd be moving somewhere close by -- somewhere else in Monticello, specifically. However, after exhausting myself by acting outside of my comfort zone, I came home feeling uneasy about everywhere I had looked.

I woke up the morning of contract signings still unsure as to where I should live, which was a little scary. However, now was the time to act. Apartments at Monticello go fast. Like... crazy fast. I went out into the outside world, where snow was coming down fast. I felt a little strange. I don't know how to explain it. I had to sign a contract NOW and I didn't know which apartment I was going to live in yet. But I just felt like Josie would know exactly what to do, even though I didn't.

Indeed, I found the line already extending past the laundry room (eek!) but I found Josie standing near the front of the line. She grabbed me and, with a gleam in her eye, said, "What do you think about white brick?"

I stood there in shock. I hadn't even considered white brick. Pretty much, those are the only Monticello women's apartments that aren't in my ward, and I hadn't even remembered them. I've never seen the inside of them. And the peace inside of me told me that that is where I should live next year. "Yes," I said. "I think that's a good idea." I paused. "What are they like?"

Josie had never seen them either. But Melanie, also in line, had. She described them to us -- bigger bedrooms, LOTS of closet space, slightly bigger living room, two bathroom sinks, and the toilet and shower in their own little room next to the sinks. That would be splendid. Josie and I signed contracts for spring, summer, fall, and winter. I went home feeling wonderful.

In the evening, nearly all my roommates either went home for the weekend or left on dates. Alone in the kitchen, I felt a craving for Ramen, and decided it was a good idea to take advantage of such a cheap craving. I did scramble an egg and drizzled it in the pot egg-drop soup style though, to add to the nutritional value. Tasty. Valentine's Day Ramen. Mmmm. Just as I started to eat, my phone rang.

What? My phone? No one ever calls me! It was Hillary. That's strange, she just left on a date. She asked Anthony to go see Divine Comedy with her. He is, in my opinion, among the cutest guys in our ward.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Jenna! Do you want to go on a blind date? And see Divine Comedy?"

"Yes!"

"Okay, one of Anthony's friends is here with an extra ticket and no date."

"What time do I need to be there?"

"Seven!" It was six-fifteen.

"Okay!... What is my date's name?"

"John."

"Okay, bye!"

Excited, I hung up, finished my Ramen concoction, and ran out the door. I had to stop running though, because the roads and sidewalks were ridiculously icy. I got to the Stairs of Death by the duck pond, and warily eyed the stairs. I could see my reflection in some of them. I gripped the handrail tightly and made my way up the stairs. I nearly slipped and died several times on the way to the Wilk, but managed to stay on my feet somehow.

Once at the Wilk, I found Anthony, Hillary, and John near the middle-front of the line. I talked to John a bit, and it was pretty much only the basic questions. We got into the show (which was AMAZING). We sat near Kerstin, Cherish, Liz, and Claire, which I thought was fortunate, because although I visited them, Cherish had been home. So I got a hug from her.

After the show, the Anthony, Hillary, John, and I walked home. We tread very carefully, and John put spikes on the bottom of his shoes to be safe. When we got to the stairs, and the four of us gripped the handrail as tightly as we could, and tread carefully. However, halfway down, I stepped -- and instead of supporting me, my foot slid up into the air -- my hands were wrenched from the hand rail --

I must have had some torque going on because, in the air, I spun ever so slightly -- and I landed heavily on the left side of my thigh on the stairs -- and then onto my stomach --

But it did not stop there -- there was no friction between me and the stairs -- I slid down them, and I could not stop --

My face met the icy stairs, albeit rather gently in comparison to the violent impact my leg had made earlier --

Sliding down, I saw three horrified faces as I slid down -- ka-dunk, ka-dunk, ka-dunk -- until, finally, the median handrail stopped me.

"JENNA! Are you okay?" screamed Hillary.

"Yeah," I said shakily.

John helped me up, and escorted me by the arm the remainder of the way home. I was winded, and my throat was tight with fear, so when I spoke I sounded like I was crying although I was not. I probably should have been though -- I was in a lot of pain. We went to Cold Stone and got some ice cream. (It was cold enough that the ice cream warmed us up.) I got a strawberry shake, John got a banana split. We got to talking while Anthony and Hillary were waiting for their treats.

"Did you doze off during the show?" asked John.

I was surprised by this question; it had been amazing. "No, I did not."

"Oh. I thought I saw you jerk a couple of times during the show."

I laughed. Oh, I see. "I have a tic disorder of some sort," I explained.

"Ah, I understand then. I also have a neurological disorder. I've got a tremor. See, my hands always tremble a little, in case you hadn't noticed." I had. It was ever so slight, but it was just barely noticable.

And then I had a nerd moment. I couldn't help it; it just came out. It just happened. "That's a lower motor neuron problem!" I commented.

He kind of laughed to himself. "It is indeed. My dad's a neuropsychologist."

After ice cream, we headed back to my apartment, and we played Apples-to-Apples until midnight. John and I tied with eight green apple cards -- pretty much owning everyone else. The guys left and went home. And I went to bed.

Last night there was a triward fireside, during which I spied a very good-looking boy. I decided I would go talk to him afterward. After the closing prayer, I made my way over to the refreshments where he was (of course) gravitating. However, I looked down at my coat and realized with mild horror that my fairly-new coat was missing a button. Oh dear. I had it when I said amen at end of the closing prayer, so it had to be here somewhere. The coat came with extra buttons, so it wouldn't have been the end of the world if I couldn't find it, but I set to work looking all over the floor for it anyway, the cute blond boy forgotten.

A guy from the 171st ward stopped me. "Excuse me, you seem to looking for something. Are you looking for me?"

I laughed. Very clever. "Well, no, actually. I've lost my button. Have you seen it?"

Instantly, about twenty good-looking men in suits and ties were scouring the floor for one measly little button. They made it seem like an intense game with heated competition. Soon enough, one jumped up. "Is this it?"

It was indeed, and all the guys cheered. "It was meant to be!" I heard repeatedly. "Now you have to exchange numbers!" "GIVE 'IM A HUG!" "Twoo wuv!!!" Well, the guy looked mighty pleased with himself (his name was Matt), and I thought it was funny. I did indeed give him a hug to express my thanks, but I didn't bother asking for his number. Even if I had the number and I wanted to take him on a date, I knew I wouldn't have called it. (Stupid phone phobia.) I would have given him mine, but he didn't ask for it; I don't think he particularly wanted it.

Another guy in the crowd did continue to flirt (the one who originally asked if I was looking for him... now that I think about it, I should have gotten his number... dang...). Bryce (in my ward) leaned over and whispered in my ear, "I dare you to go hold his hand. He totally wants you to."

I glared over at him. "No, I'm not going to do that." Even if he is cute. I believe I've mentioned Bryce before, but let me refresh your memory. This is the guy who knocked on our door one night and explained that he needed a girl to cuddle with -- any girl. We, of course, refused him. On a separate occasion, I was visiting another guy at his house, when he just came over and began to cuddle. I demanded that he get off me. He did.

Bryce shook his head at me. "You should. He would like it." Yes, probably, he might, but I'm not going to. I continued to glare. Bryce changed the subject. "I've got some hats you need to look at. I'm going home right now, or I'll be there right at nine to take stuff out of the oven." He was of course referring to my tradition of wearing a cool hat to every ward prayer, and he did indeed have some cool hats.

"Okay," I said.

"All right," he said. "I'll see you then." He proceeded to caress my shoulder and back.

I again glared at him, as coldly as I could. "Don't do that. Please."

He laughed and replied, "I love you because you're a nerd and you're awkward. And you're fun to tease."

I was not at all happy with that comment, but managed to pull off a calm face. "...You love me because I'm a nerd and I'm awkward?"

"Yeah, and you're fun to tease. You have an abnormal personality. You mean you haven't noticed?"

Hillary, who was standing nearby, heard all this and interrupted. "Bryce! That's mean!"

He stopped for a moment and considered. "Oh. I guess that could have been taken as an insult, huh?" No, Bryce, you think?

"Yes!" answered Hillary. "That was mean!"

"Well, I meant it as a compliment, honestly," Bryce retorted. Hillary glared. "Er... a back-handed compliment?"

I shook my head and left, with Hillary and Rachel in tow. Rachel immediately began her complaints. "Jenna, how do you do that? I turn my back on you for five seconds, and you're surrounded by twenty men!" Oh yeah, the button incident. I shrugged. I don't know, I wasn't really doing anything. Just looking for a button. And it doesn't even really do me any good, because my flirting skills are nonexistent. Whatever.

To be honest, Bryce's comment kind of bothered me, especially because it came from him. I'm awkward? I just have to wonder if it had ever occurred to him that knocking around asking for a girl to cuddle with -- any girl -- was actually VERY awkward. And that the general consensus in the female population is that such behavior is, indeed, awkward. No, probably not. He probably thinks that is a most clever thing to do.

But the reason such the comment really bothered me is because it kind of renewed my concern that my actions (or lack thereof) are being misinterpreted by the guys in my ward. I probably confuse them. And that's depressing. I don't regard physical affection as something you do casually with just anybody, or to be funny, or to use in flirting with a stranger, etc.

Someone explain this to me. How is this confusing?

I hug my friends, or people I'd like to be friends with. I don't cuddle with, or hold hands with, or let guys put their arm around me unless I am in a romantic relationship with them or I'm interested in establishing one. Really. I want to know. How is that confusing?

Because, see, I would have thought what a surprising amount of other people at BYU do would be much more confusing -- just holding hands and cuddling with any old person whether or not they're interested because it might be funny or because they just happen to think it'd be more comfortable that way (which it would be).

It's not that I think cuddling or holding hands in and of itself is awkward -- definitely not. I've always wanted to do so. Never have done so, but I want to. Really bad, actually. I mean, that's one of the ways in which I feel close to people, and therefore, it only makes sense that I be careful with it. I bond primarily through physical affection... the people who don't let me hug them are most often the ones I feel most distant from. The ones I get good hugs from are the ones I feel closest to.

I do, however, think it's awkward when the amount of physical affection people show towards each other does not accurately reflect the actual status of their relationship. So, no, Bryce. Don't put your arm around me. Don't caress me, don't cuddle me, don't. It's rather obvious you're not interesting in dating me (leastwise you shouldn't be; you've got a girlfriend) and I'm not interested in dating you. Stop pretending like we are dating.

Okay, I'll get off my soapbox now.

Have a good week and such,
Jenna Griffin

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.

Life Would Be So Much Better Without Goodbyes.

The next day was Monday... I had resolved not to do anything too academic all day. I cleaned, and then... Hillary left. I bawled. And bawled. I'm not going to see Hillary for four whole months! Gaah! I had a nap. And then I woke up to a knock. Ryan was over again. We went and got the playdough again, and then we came to my place and played with it on my table again. We made fun little critters. And Ryan talked and talked and talked. I told him about what happened with his dirt after he had left last night, and thankfully he wasn't upset with me. He was rather upset with Rachelle though... "You can't tell her that I told you that she told! I'll never be allowed to participate in girl talk again!" He laughed. And then he promised.

The next day was Tuesday. The day for biology. But then I couldn't wait all the way until 7pm. Instead I studied all morning and then went to my professor's office to take it earlier. I felt pretty good about it, and then I went home. I tried to study physics. But I felt dead. The more I tried to study, the more I would remember that Ryan was leaving. His original plan was to leave tonight, but he had bartered with his grandfather for tomorrow instead. So that was another day. But still. The very thought haunted me.

I helped Rachel move out... after that I was even sadder. Eventually Ryan signed into chat, where I talked to him as I tried to force myself to study. His last final had taken him four and a half hours, and he had just finished it. He wanted to know how my biology test went. I told him. He remembered that I also had physics to take, and he inquired if I was studying. No, I wasn't. I couldn't. I mused that I might start packing. He wanted to know if he could help. I figured out that he wanted to come over but was paranoid that I'd be busy.

And so I thought about it. He was leaving tomorrow. I don't need to study just yet. I don't need to pack just yet either. And I was stressed. And what we usually did when I just about going crazy with stress... was go on a long walk and explore all over campus. And find hidden things. So...

I told him that I had decided that I didn't feel like studying, or packing, or cleaning, or anything like that, and that I had decided to go on a walk, and that he could come with me if he wanted to. He wanted to.

So... I came down my stairs to see Ryan dashing through the bushes like Tarzan. I smiled. He was trying to make me laugh, I think. And if it had been a normal day I would have... He's usually very good at it, but my thoughts right now were weighed down with finals and the incessant reminder that he'd be gone in less than twenty-four hours.

Alerted by my failure to laugh at his strange behavior, he must have realized right then I was feeling really horrible. Usually when I was having a hard time, he'd make me laugh and everything would be better. I smiled weakly at him when he finally got out of the bushes, and he gave me a huge hug. And then we started walking, without a particular destination. We weren't walking long when Cute Mike showed up. He was heading off to that biology test. We escorted him to the MARB where our biology classroom was. And then me and Ryan started exploring, like we liked to do. We looped around as we were walking and eventually wound up on the balcony of the JFSB. And we sat and talked for a while. Dallin had left earlier that day. I frowned at that, and Ryan saw. "Don't worry," he said. "You'll see him again... he's living with me when we come back to BYU, so you'll see him all the time!" I laughed.

Then I took him down from the very top of the JFSB into its very depths... into the parking garages. He was fascinated. "Oooh! Next time I play laser tag, I'll do it here!" Then I showed him a few of the secret passageways I knew about from when I used to work as a custodian there. I even showed him the preschool. Once out of the JFSB, we moved on and went down the Stairs of Death... and found a bench and sat on it for a while. Then we climbed up the Stairs of Death again, and then decided to try and get to the top floor of the SWKT. Ryan considered for a moment if it was wise, since that's where all the crazy "psych people are"... Unfortunately, the elevator ignored all our pleas for it to take us all the way up to the twelfth floor. But, it did oblige when we asked for the eleventh. Unfortunately again, once we were up there, all the offices and such were locked and we couldn't see any windows. What good was being so high up if you couldn't look out the windows? So we descended to the tenth floor. This time, success. We found a window, and looked out of it for a while ("Ah, a perfect stalking spot!" he said. I laughed). We also found the neuroscience center. Well, that was good enough. We went down to ground level and then came out.

I suddenly realized that I wanted some ice cream. I told Ryan so, and thus we set off for the creamery. We got there and stood in line for a while. Ryan got cookie dough ice cream... I got rocky road. Again, the cashier assumed Ryan was paying for me. We protested and I paid for mine. Then we headed back to my house, and played with 128's playdough again.

I remembered that I had written him a letter, so I brought that out. I hadn't expected him to open it right then and read it there, but he did. After that we played with the playdough again for a while. We got tired of that, and we fell into silence for a while. I started playing piano for a bit. Then Ryan spoke up. "Jenna, let's make plans for after my mission."

I looked over at him. He continued. "I don't really care if we do them or not, I just want to make them so that I have something to look forward to..." I nodded.

Well, the obvious ones came out... we of course have to go exploring campus some more. And there's sure to be a new building. I'll show that one to you. And we could hike the Y. We never did that.

I quipped, "We should make another pie." He smiled. "I was going to say that."

I continued, "Yeah... I've decided I want to learn how to make really good pies. And so I'll practice when you're gone. Maybe one pie a month. That's... about thirty pies, I think. And then you'll be back and we can make a truly amazing cherry pie for Cherish."

He was listening, but I could tell he was calculating pies in his head. He looked at me after a few seconds. "Thirty pies. That was a pretty good guess. It's exactly thirty pies if you count the one we made on Sunday, and the one we'll make when I get back." Then he got a little intense. "Jenna, you have to make those pies! Let's make a pie chart! Do you have a ruler?"

I did. I went and found it, and brought it out. He took a piece of paper from the printer that Alex had given Jackie (he wasn't going to use it for the next two years, so what a better idea than to give it to Jackie?) and started making the chart. I sat next to him and watched. I wasn't so much watching the chart being born as I was watching how Ryan was making it. He was ever so careful, and he was concentrating. I could tell he was concentrating because his nose was moving forward and back.

"Did you know your nose wiggles when you're concentrating?" I asked.

He glanced at me. "Uhh... it's not because I'm concentrating, I don't think." But now that I had point out his nose-wiggling, it was moving left and right instead of forward and back, because now he was thinking about it. I haven't figured out what left and right nose wiggling means, but I'm fairly certain forward and back only happens when he's concentrating on something and not at all thinking out wiggling his nose. I smiled and laughed quietly.

He finished the pie chart, a square for each of the thirty months. "Alright, for every month, you have to make a pie. Even if it's a mud pie or a pie tin full of whipped cream. Make a pie and then draw it in the square for that month." We had two minutes before Ryan had to leave. "Can you draw our cherry pie in two minutes?"

"I don't know. I think so." I pulled out my markers. Unfortunately, it took a while to find the right colors. I drew and colored the pie hurriedly, and then when eleven o clock came, Ryan hugged me and dashed out the door so that he didn't break the Honor Code. I started cleaning up the mess I had left, and discovered under the pile of markers the letter I had written him. I sighed. I emailed him that I was holding it ransom, and thus he had to come say goodbye before he left and retrieve it. Then I went to bed.

I woke up in the morning... and I was not sure what to think about. I had to take the physics final today. I had to. Today was the last day of finals. I pulled out my physics booklet of chapter summaries and tried to concentrate on it. But then I kept remembering that my best friend was leaving today, and then my eyes would tear up and make it impossible to read. I eventually gave up. I ate some food. And then I tried to pack maybe. Gaah. Can't do that either. I finally pulled out my scriptures and read for a while, not knowing what else I could do. Ryan would be cleaning and packing right about now. He was supposed to leave around 3... and then wouldn't see him for over two years.

I heard a knock at my door and went to answer it. To my surprise, it was Ryan. Already. I answered hesitantly, because my eyes were still a little wet from my cry earlier.

"...Hi... Uhh... I'm here to say goodbye..."

I sputtered, "Already?" There was a telltale crack in my voice. It was only 10:30am. This couldn't be happening already. This wasn't supposed to happen for another few hours...

"Yeah... my grandfather decided instead to come get me at one instead of three..."

All I could manage was a weak "Oh..." We just stood there for a minute. And then... "Well, Jackie is here too if you want to say goodbye to her too..." He came in, and he said goodbye to Jackie. And then Jackie left the kitchen and it was just us two again. Ryan sighed. "Are you studying for physics? You have to take that today, right?"

I nodded. Then I said, "Actually, I haven't been able to concentrate on it. So I've been doing other random things. Reading scriptures. Cleaning a little. I think I went to Creamery, even."

"Hm. You wanna come help me pack?" I nodded. And then we went to his place. I helped him carry his desktop computer back to the place where he had borrowed it from. And then we went and I found his kitchen filthy. "Guck," he said. "I'm glad I'm leaving this for the other guys to clean up." It was ridiculously hot in there, so I opened the windows so that cool air would come in. I helped him finish off him chocolate milk. And then I cleaned some of his dishes while he packed some more. He found his iClicker, which he decided he needed to return at the Bookstore.

Ryan was gracious enough to let me follow him. We talked some, but mostly we just walked. We went and returned his iClicker, and he got about $25 for it. Of course, he had to deposit that in the bank. So we walked to his bank and he deposited it. And then... well, we did our usual exploring again. We walked around the Wilk this time. Then we decided it was imperative to find the Skyroom Restaurant. We found it... on the sixth floor. It was a very nice little restaurant. We looked at the menu... too expensive for our poor college student budgets. But I did notice a little sign saying that they were still hiring. I inquired into the job. I filled out a form for a job for spring term. And then we took the stairs to the fifth floor. We didn't see much interesting, but then we explored until we found a long corridor with no doors or lights or anything. But the walls were covered in paintings. We went down that and we found a flight of stairs. We went down that until we found a window with a beautiful view. Eventually we got down to the ground floor and then we headed home.

About this time I was starting to feel guilty about not studying physics when I was destined to fail it. Ryan turned toward his house, expecting me to follow, but I said quietly, "I think I have to study physics now. I can't fail." He looked at me. "Oh... okay then. I'll take you home." We walked to my stairs and then... then it really was goodbye. Ryan hugged me and held me close, and he wouldn't let go. "I'll be back real quick. It'll only be two years." I nodded and he hugged me harder. I didn't say anything, because I would have burst into tears.

He let me go after what I am sure was longer than fifteen seconds, and then he said goodbye. I managed to say a goodbye and then I turned away and climbed my stairs. And then I burst into tears. I looked up at the sky, holding back huge sobs that were in my throat. As I unlocked my door, I looked back to see Ryan looking back also. And then I went inside. And I just cried for a long time.

I ended up not failing my physics final. I may get a decent grade in that class. I came home after that, and rather than feeling relieved at finally being done... well, now I had nothing else to think about. I now had free time, but no best friend to spend it with. I went to bed and cried myself to sleep.

Rock, Paper, Scissors...

Time for some silly adventure pictures. We went and did a rock paper scissors tournament. No, we didn't win. But it was quite fun, and we beat a world record for the largest rock paper scissors tournament ever. Aren't all silly things fun?

The first picture is (from left to right!) Caleb, Ryan, and I walking from our place to the tournament.

The second picture is Ryan and I with our free drinks...

The third picture is Ryan being silly. He was complaining about how paper never wins because so many people always use scissors... :)

The fourth picture... well, there's me in the foreground. Smirking at my opponent. It scared the living daylights out of him, fo sho. Hillary is practicing in the green.

Eastering and the Bestest Gift(s) Ever.

Saturday morning I woke up. And I was already stressing. Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! I have a cleaning check at 2 pm! I have to take a biology test before 3 pm, and I've got to get as much homework done as is humanly possible! I work constantly. Aella calls me, says she'll come get me at around 5:30 pm, and I work like a madwoman. Okay, so I did take a break to talk to Ryan, but I am human and need breaks. 5:20 rolls around and I'm not done with my homework. Sad day. I dejectedly pack my bags full of homework and wait for Aella to show up. She shows up a little late, probably because of the Easter traffic.

Before going to Aella's house, we stop and get burgers and shakes (the size of your face) at JCW's. We go home, eat them, and then we doorbell ditch an Easter basket at her friend Kira's house. Then we rented Stardust.

At some point, Aella started wondered where her sons Andrew and Alistair were. Not in the house... not in the backyard. So, we set off on an escapade to find them.

First stop: the home of Tod and Lara Orchard, bestest best friends and neighbors. I have become pretty good friends with them too, especially with their eldest daughter Ivie, who taught me how to roller skate last time I came. But alas, we find my cousins not there.

Okay. Next stop: the church. Of course, since it's Utah, it's only a short walk to the church. We circle it, looking for them. No, not a soul there.

Okay. Next stop: the school playground. It's just a block further. It's getting cold, but it's only a block further. We circle the school, looking for them. No, not a soul there.

Clueless as to where to look next, we head home. As we approach Aella's little house, we hear boys' voices throwing tantrums in the backyard. Well, we found them. We walk thorugh the gate and... well, we get there just in time to witness Alistair locking and slamming the door shut.

Oh crap. Oh no oh no oh no oh no.

All of us are outside. Sweaterless, some of us with full blatters. And... the only one inside is my Uncle Thomas, recently zonked out from some powerful cough medicine stuff. And every single door and window... locked. Locked shut, barring us out forever. And Aella didn't bring her keys.

Cue the wrath of Auntie Aella. I don't know if any one my roommates have ever witnessed this, but think of how tense and easily provoked I get when I am feeling particularly OCD about my kitchen. Multiply that by a thousand, pull the trigger, and you have what I like to think of as megafury. She. Was. Mad. No. Angry. No. Furious. Deathly furious. Especially since she was one of of full-blattered people among us.

Well, soon we are all screaming and banging on the windows and doors. "UNCLE THOMAS! WAKE UP! WAKE UP! Let us in. Let uuuuuuuuussssssssssss iiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!"

Nothing. Apparently, Uncle Thomas sleeps like a rock on his own. Add in some rather potent cough medicine and you've got a deep and dreamless sleep, probably of the caliber sort of sleep Sleeping Beauty fell victim to.

We miserably (some of us cross-leggedly) made our way over to the Orchard house. Everyone's blatters were relieved after they rushed to the bathroom, and then we sat in the living room. And called and called and called Aella's house. "Come on, Thomas! Wake up! Answer the STINKIN' PHONE!"

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Tod Orchard, a humongous big, burly man, comes out with a tool kit. "All right. I'm ready to break into your house."

"Nooooooooooo! I want all my locks intact."

Okay. We're not going to break in. What are we going to do?

Enter Tod Orchard again. Add a key prop: a skinny little ladder, namely a skinny little ladder that looks like it definitely wasn't made to support humongous men like Tod. Well, Tod carries the ladder over to Aella's house. Props it against the house, and climbs up that teeny little ladder. Oh dear, what a precarious sight. Big man, little ladder. Be still my soul.

Flashlight and stick in hand, Tod starts banging on the upstairs window (the bedroom where Thomas is sleeping is upstairs). "THHHHOOOOOOOMMMMASSSS! THOMAS! THOMAS!" Yelling and yelling and yelling. Nothing. Finally... the front door opens, and out creeps a bleary-eyed Thomas.

Tod quips, "Ah! Sleeping Beauty! Next time I'll bring you flowers!"

Once inside, Aella finally started to calm down. We watched Stardust, and then we went to bed. When I woke, I went hunting for my Easter Basket. And... inside... Eeeee! The Enchanted DVD! From my daddy! Yay! I immediately called my roommate Jackie, who was basically all by herself back at our apartment. At the news that we now had Enchanted in our collection... "Eeeeeee!" from her as well. In fact, I could have sworn the news made her day. We were thrilled.

The rest of Easter wasn't too exciting, which is good. We watched Enchanted, ate Easter dinner, and went and visited my grandmother. Then Aella dropped me off back at my apartment.

We went to ward prayer as usual. But afterwards... there was a combined hall meeting: Robison and Shipp Hall. Hm. Well, that ended up basically being... asking the opposite gender things you'd always been afraid to ask. Then they'd attempt to answer. After that was over, Ryan pulled me down into the basement and had me translate stuff girls had said during the meeting ("I don't speak girl!") and report on which girls I had discovered had formal dresses during my espionage escapades. Then I went home.

Today I woke up a little late. And... Well, I must say I felt a little down. Why? I don't know. Do you ever have those days where you just feel like crud and you haven't the slightest clue why? I do. And I hate them, because being sad for no reason is a heckuva lot more frustrating than having a reason to be sad. At least with a clear cut reason to be sad, you have something to think about and figure out how to remedy. But here, when I just feel down, it's a thousand times harder to cheer myself up. Well, I must have been feeling down enough that it was apparent. After choir Ryan wanted to know if I was okay. Having no clear reply... I settled on the ambiguous shrug, because it gives the illusion of an answer without actually giving one. (Which is convenient when you really don't know.) I rushed off to biology, kind of glad that I had that excuse not to talk about it. I walk in there, sit next to Jackie, and she asks... "Are you okay?" Dang it. Strike two. "Uhh... I'm really really hungry. I haven't eaten yet." And since it was one'o'clock by then, and it was true, it seemed like a valid excuse. After biology, instead of dashing off to my usual two'o'clock spot in the JSB in front of my next classroom, I dashed off to get some food from the food court.

Armed with a barbecue chicken sandwich and a banana colada drink, I then came to commandeer my usual two'o'clock haunt, starting to cry and feeling ridiculous. Except when I got there it was occupied. Ryan was sitting there waiting for me. Oh dang it.

"Hi, Jenna. ... Are you all right?"

"Uhhh... I... I haven't eaten all day. I've been rushing around trying to get stuff done... and I haven't eaten yet..." Yes, that's right, blame it on a complaining stomach. I think mostly I was trying to convince myself that that was why I felt like crud.

"Oh. Okay. I'm sorry." He gave me a kind of concerned look as I pulled out my scriptures to finish the reading assignment for our Book of Mormon class, which he appeared to be in the middle of. And I sat, ate, and read, and just generally tried to pretend he wasn't there. But that wasn't helping and every now and then I'd have to stop reading because there was so many tears in my eyes that I couldn't see the words any more. Ugh. Alas, poor Ryan. He is probably feeling completely helpless, because I'm not telling him what is going on and I obviously didn't want to talk about it. I can imagine how awkward a guy must feel when a girl is just sitting there crying in front of him. I've learned that telling myself to stop crying never results in less tears -- somehow, it always makes me cry harder when I try to stop, because I get frustrated about the fact that I happen to be crying. Ridiculous, I know. So I didn't tell myself to stop crying. I just tried to ignore it. I was miserably trying to wipe the tears away as I read, and then I pulled out my notebook to finish writing for class, and then once I didn't need to do anything else... I laid down against my portion of the wall and tried to sleep, like every other student in that hallway. I covered my face with my bandana, but still... My sniffles were obnoxiously loud. Whatever. By the time the bell rang, I had managed to dry my eyes for the most part, and I thought I was feeling (or at least looking and sounding) relatively okay.

Ryan got up and opened the door for me (he still hadn't said a word since I chowed down into my food), and then we went to our normal seats. I sat down. Hm. Maybe by now I look fine. But then a guy named John came in and commandeered the seat on my left. He looks at me, looks away, and then double takes. "Are you okay?"

Strike three. Just when I thought I seemed sane. "... Do I not look okay?"

"No. No, you don't. You don't look okay at all."

Uggggghhhh.... noooo waaaaayyyy.... "Dang it! And I was trying so hard, too!" Hey, at least I sounded okay... in fact, I sounded playful. Ryan and John kind of chuckled at me, and I think at that point they both decided that even if I didn't look okay yet... judging by my voice, I'd be okay soon.

Hillary and I walked home after class and Ryan went to take a test. Hillary and I stopped at the sound of men singing. Oh, look! A men's a capella group was practicing outside the library! We sat and listened to them for half an hour. Then we went home. And... I guess since the depressed person's first instinct is to sleep... Well, I took my leave and crashed on my bed. And I was asleep almost instantly.

I woke up almost four hours later to screams of glee. "Eeeeeeeeeeee! Bubble wrap! Ryan gave us bubble wrap! Ryan gave us bubble wrap!" My door burst open, and Rachel stood in the doorway. "JEEEENNNNNNNNNNAA! Wake up! There's BUBBLE WRAP! Ryan gave us bubble wrap! I found it in the hallway! He must have slid it under the door!" And it was true.

You know those little manila envelopes that have bubble wrap inside? That's what it was. It seemed Ryan had gotten something in that envelope, and he had torn off the address stickers and such to leave the bubble wrap with envelope stuck on the outside. In that same extremely potent-smelling permanent marker he had used before, he had written on the envelope, "Bubble wrap for my 126 Robison friends... enjoy. Ryan Strong." Oh my goodness. Well, he was smart enough to have addressed to all of us to prevent chaos from ensuing. We were now obliged to share it with one another. He huddled in a little circle around it and started popping bubbles.

Pop. Pop. And you know what? I think bubble wrap has therapeutic qualities. It's just like... each time you pop a bubble, a little bubble of joy also pops inside you, releasing euphoria into your bloodstream.

"I wonder why Ryan gave us bubble wrap. I mean, I'm sure he loves popping the stuff too," says Hillary.

I nod. "Yeah... I mean, whenever I get bubble wrap, it's my favorite thing. Just to sit and pop it all by myself, you know?"

"Yeah. Ryan sacrificed bubble wrap fun for us. It's a sign of true friendship," Rachel says, almost poetically.

And it was true. We sat and popped the stuff until the salmon and vegetables were done. We came to a consensus that it was the best gift we had received since the poltergeist brownies. ("Oh... that was him too, wasn't it?") After dinner, I sent him a gleeful email thanking him for the bubble wrap. He replied by asking me on a date. Haha. A sandwich date. (It's just what it sounds like. A date in which we make sandwiches.)

And so now, after some bubble wrap therapy, I think I am feeling happy again. Which is good, because feeling sad... really just sucks.

This Week in Other News.

Sunday

I went home before Sunday School in church because I wasn't feeling quite so good. I came home and crashed. I slept until later at night. I woke up and did some visiting teaching... Then I went to ward prayer. I took my customary place on the stairs. Ryan came an sat on top of the recycling bin next to the stairs, so we were at about the same level. Clifton*, my little brother... randomly came up and started talking to me. "Jenna. You should ask a guy in your dance class to the social dance club dance on Friday night... because the guys in your class probably won't know about it, and you should go."

I blinked at him. "Uhh... okay." I grimaced a little, going through all the guys in my dance class. The ones I get along with best seem to have girlfriends... and then there's Scott, who is just a little awkward. Oh joy, Clifton. I really don't want to ask anyone.

Clifton switches topics quickly.

"Which girls have formal dresses in our ward?" At this question, Ryan also perks up and starts paying attention. Apparently, this is valuable information.

"Uh... well, for sure I know that I have one... Rachel has one... Hillary has one... Jackie has a few... Why?" I ask suspiciously.

"Oh, just that Invitational is coming up."

... "What's Invitational?" Well, apparently Invitational is a formal dance for Heritage Halls. And Clifton really wants to wear a tux, which would only be appropriate with a girl wearing a formal dress. Ah, now I understand. It would be useful to know which girls have formal dresses, so that guys with tuxes or access to/ funds for renting tuxes can ask those ones. Tuxless guys would go for the girls without formal dresses. How... sensible. By the time I ward prayer was over, Ryan and Clifton had convinced me to compile a list of girls in Robison Hall with formal dresses. ("Haha, you know which girls we like!" ... And it was true...) Ay, caramba.

And then Clifton switched topics again. "Hey, Jenna."

"What?"

"On second thought, I'll just take you to the dance on Friday. Just wear the same stuff you wore for DanceSport yesterday. What dances have you learned so far?"

"Oh, okay... Uhhh... foxtrot, cha cha, some waltz, and just very very basic swing..."

"That's okay. I'll teach you what you don't know. And you can meet my sister!"


Monday

St. Patrick's Day! Or at least it was until the Pope announced that it wasn't. Whatever. We still celebrated. We all wore green.

I was doing homework in the MARB as usual, when Ryan and his classmates vacated my next classroom. I was about to pack up... and then Ryan was back. He had turned around and come back. Apparently his next class was canceled. He wanted to sit and study with me... but my next class hadn't been canceled. He looked a little... I don't know... mildly distraught. "Are you okay? Tired, or something?"

"Oh. I... haven't been feeling particularly well..." There was a pause. "And my mission call comes this week..."

"Oh! Wednesday or Thursday?"

"Yeah... yeah... Wednesday or Thursday..." I think that might explain his pallor. Nerves.

"Well, I need to go to class. You should find a more comfortable place to hang out... The MARB isn't the coziest of buildings... Maybe try the Talmage or something..." I sat and tried to think of places with cushy chairs.

"Well, I think the Madsen Recital Hall is empty now. It should be... I mean, that's where my next class usually is..." Definitely full of cushy chairs. So he left and I went to class.

For FHE, we had a combined "family" dinner, in which all the food was green. I made ridiculously green rice krispies treats that stained our tongues green. Mmmm. The main course was pasta with green alfredo sauce. Weird.


Tuesday

I tested the cha cha... and I did all right, I think. Except Scott, my partner... wasn't as skilled as Matt. I had to count in his ear just so he wouldn't get off beat. Ugh. How frustrating.

After my Isaiah class, I came home... and I was feeling a tad ill again. Well, more than a tad. I fell asleep. I accidentally slept through my Irish dance class... whoops. I was kind of conscious again later, and I could tell without looking at the clock that I had missed class. I was kind of half-conscious and such... Trying to convince myself that it was a good idea to get out of bed. I mean, I was a little hungry. And I felt perfectly fine now.

Then my door opened. Hillary poked her head, kind of noisily whispering, "Is she still asleep? I don't know she's awake... Oh, I think she's still sleeping... Sorry..."

Sorry? What, did I have a visitor? Argggggghhhh... I pulled myself out of bed. At the very least I should get something to eat. I open up my door again and poke my head into the world outside. "Who opened my door?" Ooh, I sounded groggy.

Hillary drooped. "Oh, I'm sorry! It was me!"

I blinked so that I could actually see. Oh look, Ryan is waving at me. "Oh, hi... What are you doing here?"

"Uhh... what are you doing here?"

"Uhh... I live here."

Then he got a little playful. "No, I live here." Practically.

"Ryan, I think that's against the honor code. You wouldn't want to break the honor code, now would you? Hahaha..."

"Oh no, I wouldn't be breaking the honor code. All of you would be breaking the honor code for living in my apartment. But because I'm a nice guy, I go sleep over in that place over there every night so you guys can stay here."

"Oh, how thoughtful of you."

Well, I was ridiculously hungry. And I wanted curry rice. Desperately. I pulled out the ground beef and set to cooking it. Ryan came and watched, curious as always at this thing we call cooking. "Is that how you cook frozen hamburger meat?" "Yes." "...You scrape off the the browned meat on one side and then flip it?" "Yeah." "... And then scrape the browned meat on that side?" "Yes, Ryan." "Oh. ... ... How do you stop the meat you scrape off from burning while you're cooking?" "Well, you just stop it from getting dry... so make sure the heat isn't all the way on high, and if it still seems like it's gonna burn, put a bit of water in it..." "Oh." And at this point, I came to the realization that I was missing an ingredient. I handed the spatula to him. He blinked at it. I told him, "I'm going to the Creamery to go get something I forgot. Finish this." And... I left. And I just kind of hoped that my meat would still be edible when I came back. I was back in nearly a jiffy, and I came back to find Ryan... running around the garbage can outside my place. Suspicious. I wondered what horrendous thing had happened to my food. I started walking up the stairs again. He ran past me so he could open the door for me. I came inside, came to the stove... and oh look. It lives. In fact, it was rather perfect. And, the burner had been turned off, and the pan moved to a cooler spot so that the meat wouldn't burn. I couldn't have been prouder.

After Jackie, Rachel, and I ate (Ryan had already eaten), Ryan decided he was going to teach me some racquetball. We walked over to the Richards Building, got our equipment, and then climbed into a racquetball court. Thankfully, Ryan didn't care that I wasn't too good at it, because he wasn't too good at it either. He taught how to hold the racquet, and mostly we just bounced the ball off the walls as hard as we could. Then we got kicked out by some people who had reserved the court, and we went home.


Wednesday

Not much happened. I went to all my classes... but Book of Mormon had been canceled because we had a midterm this week. Ryan and I studied for it for about an hour when we'd usually have class. As we were walking over to the testing center, Ryan looked rather nervous.

"The test shouldn't be too bad if it's anything like last time..."

He nodded, but I don't think he was really paying attention. After a few minutes, he finally said, "My mission call came today... Don't tell anyone. It's a secret."

"A secret? Why, you want to tell everyone yourself?"

"I don't know. I just don't want to tell anyone."

"... Have you even opened it yet?"

"No. No. I'm going to wait until Friday. I'm going to open it with my grandparents. On Friday."

He really did seem a little out of it.

"And I might tell you where I'm going."

"... Might?" I demanded. "You'd better tell me where you're going! Or else..."

He smiled. And we took the test. (I missed one! :( Sad day!) And then I went to orchestra. Then I went home. And slept.


----
* Clifton is going to the Mexico Monterrey East Mission, reporting June 4th. Dallin, Ryan's roommate... is going to the Mexico Monterrey East Mission, reporting June 4th. My biology class friend Ben is going to the Mexico Monterrey East Mission... reporting... you guessed it, June 4th. Whoa.

Help me.

Tonight we had a session of Stake Conference. Only Hillary and I were home, so we got dressed and started to head on over. I was quite pleased when we got to a traffic light just as it turned green. "Ah! Perfect timing!" I exclaim.

But then, the unthinkable. Will approaches. My stomach drops through the bottoms of my feet, and I groan. "Oh. Never mind. Definitely NOT perfect timing."

So here comes a confession... I really just cannot stand Will. Even though I'm trying not to, I'm sure at some point I may mention things about him I don't like, but I will probably exaggerate because they happen to be my pet peeves. He's really not that bad. I just... don't like him. Forgive me.

Please don't let Will notice us. Please don't let Will notice us. Please, please, please, please let him not notice me... Maybe if I ignore him and don't say anything he won't see or hear or notice I exist....

"Hey, Jenna." Aw, crap.

"Hi Will," I say weakly. I elect not to say anything extravagant and just... be as terse as possible. I really have a hard time with conversations with Will... They're all the same: "Hey Jenna" "Hi Will" "How are you" "Manamana blah blah blah" "Oh that's good..." At which point he always starts talking about incredibly depressed he is, how much he wishes he had a girlfriend, reminiscing about his first kiss and how much he enjoys making out, how he just can't forgive someone for insulting his friend even though he's never met them, and how excited he is about his mission -- doesn't matter what topic it is, as long as he is the center of it.

"How are you today, Jenna?"

Ay caramba. "Not as happy as I could be." That, at least, was the truth.

"Oh... that's too bad. Do you want a hug?"

My soul recoiled. I manage to keep my physical self steady. "No, no, I'm okay..."

And then he launched into an incredibly boring about something, surely involving himself. For someone so depressed, he certainly loves himself a lot. In fact, I would recommend never trying to pick an argument with Will. He is always so incredibly convinced he is right. Since he is always complaining about being depressed, sometimes I attempt to give him advice. But... here's inevitably what happens... he makes up some ridiculous excuse about how that doesn't apply to him in the slightest. And then he goes on about how depressed he is. It's like he secretly enjoys being depressed because it's an excuse for him to become the center of attention, even if it is pity attention.

Hillary and I walk over to the Wilk, hoping to lose him. Oh dang it. He's following.

I whisper to Hillary that we could go through the doors behind the Cougareat, almost no one ever uses those... but Will had the same idea. He was a little ahead of us at this point. He announces, "This way!"

I grab Hillary... and go the other way with the rest of the group. Aha, here is a weakness of his. He can't admit being wrong, and he never backs down when no one agrees with him. He continues on in his announced chosen path, looking wistfully at me. Hillary and I rush to get out and as far away from the last location of our Will encounter, and...

Ah, crap. There he is... The rest of the group starts going down the stairs... and he joins the group again. I grab Hillary... and instead of taking the stairs, I turn right.

We are breathing heavily. Maybe we lost him. I look to my left, down the slope. And there was Will. He had separated from the group and was now walking alone and walking quickly in order to catch up with us. "Hillary! Walk slower! Much slower!"

Will keeps going. We walk slowly. But not slowly enough. Before we get to the place where our paths would have crossed, Hillary pulled out her phone. We stopped as she fiddled with it. "Who's called you?" I hiss.

"No one," she hissed.

Comprehension... Aha. "Ah, I see. Hillary, you're a genius." She fiddles with the phone until Will is far ahead of us. And then we continue in our journey. We walk slowly, hoping to put as much distance between us as was possible.

We finally show up to the JSB. We walk in carefully. Scan the room. No sign of him. We therefore assume that he had found a seat in the huge mass of people. Looking around again cautiously, we carefully pick a spot near the door. We no sooner sit down, when...

"Hey! Do you mind if I sit next to you?" I think I paled, and perhaps started trembling. Through clenched teeth, Hillary muttered, "Yeah..."

The stupid thing about starting something with "do you mind" is that an affirmative answer means saying "no" and a negative answer means saying "yes"... so of course there is room to interpret a "yeah" as "yeah, go ahead and sit here!"

And that is what he did. He smugly took his spot and proceeded into his usual self-centered talk. He then proceeded to brag all about how he got himself a Spanish set of scriptures and a hymnbook. I'm not sure what bothered me about this... by all accounts it was a perfectly innocent thing to do... maybe I imagined it just because I don't like him, but it seemed that it was the sort of action he'd do just so he could say, "Look at me. I'm going on a mission. I'm going to rub it in your face. Look how good I am."

Hillary and I ignored him through the meeting, terrified that he would launch into another intensely awkward descriptive narrative of this one time he made out... And as soon as it was over, we bolted out the door. Ran home. Locked the doors behind us. And finally just breathed.

I Don't Know What Melodramatic Means... But...

I just realized that I am definitely writing a TON more lately... I attribute this purely to my lack of a job and therefore an increase in time to do other things, including homework, sleeping, writing, and just having fun in general.

As the title may suggest, I went and saw Enchanted last night while on a date. My friend Zach took me. Zach was one of those boys that, prior to our dear bishop's challenge, didn't date much. Little did he know that all the girls he knew wanted to date him.

So, whilst taking a nap Thursday night, my phone rang. I blearily blinked at it... An Arizona number? Hm. I wouldn't have answered it, but I was curious. Maybe a long lost friend was calling me... I answered. "Hello?"

"Uhh... hi... is this Jenna?"

"Yes."

"Uhh... hi... this is Zach Smith... from Mesa..."

Yes, Zach, I am aware that is where you are from. "Hi, Zach!"

"Uhh... do you have any plans for tomorrow night?"

Do I? No... no, I purposely avoid plans for Fridays in the hopes for dates. "No... I have no idea what I'm doing tomorrow..."

"Oh... okay... well, um... do you wanna, um, go see, um, Enchanted tomorrow with me?"

My insides did a double flip. Heck yes. FINALLY. We had had a sign on our door for a few weeks that said clearly, "Will open only for dates to Enchanted. Thanks for stopping by!" I had drawn a princess on it... Rachel had drawn a mariachi man on it, serenading her. Unfortunately, although his face resembled the Pringles man, he did not have very good serenading technique. We had written in smallish writing below him, "Note: Proper serenading technique usually involves dropping down on one knee, but with biceps like those, we'll forgive him."

So of course, I answered Zach, "Yes! Of course!"

"Oh... okay. And... do you want to go to the Unofficial Spring Break Dance afterwards?"

"Yeah, sure..."

"Okay, I'll come get you at 6:15 since the movie starts at 6:30, and then I don't know how long the dance will last."

"Okay."

"Alright, then... I'll.. uh... see you tomorrow then..."

Score. Mega score. No way I can sleep now. I burst into Hillary and Rachel's room...

"I have a date!!! Enchanted! With Zach!" I had the phone in my hand still.

"Yay!" said Hillary. "That's not still on, is it?" queried Rachel.

"No... no... but I have a date!" And that's really all that mattered, truly. Because now every girl in the ward was jealous. Automatically.

Later that evening, I was talking to Ryan... and then he started asking about my plans for Friday night. But the poor boy was too late. Jenna's been taken for Friday evening.

Well, the movie, of course, was amazing. I love that movie. Zach hadn't seen it before, but he was pleasantly surprised... and loved it. Then we went to the dance. We were hoping to get a picture with Waldo... but we couldn't find him. That guy is just too good at blending in with crowds of people, even with that distinctive red and white stripety shirt. The dancing itself was nic... except, as you all know, I'm not particularly flexible. So Jenna trying to dance is interesting. I was doing my very best, although I think Zach kind of picked up on my lack of dancing skill and kept giving me hints on how to dance better, such as, "Just find someone who looks cool dancing and imitate them." Unfortunately, I still looked ridiculous. Oh well. At least an artist came over and drew us.

In the middle of the dance, we learned salsa and some other Latin dance in the room next door. I'm pretty at following if the guy knows how to lead. And... Zach definitely knows how to lead. In fact, we kind of ignored the teacher and he just led into more and more complicated moves, because as Zach realized, the moves were just like swing moves, only with a salsa-y step.

Then we went back out onto the dance floor, and waltzed to the slow song, just because we knew how. At then end he dipped me. Score. (Alright, time to cross off "Be dipped" from my Things to Do Before Death List...). There was some amazing gelatto as well as some divine taquitos. They had horchata, but it definitely wasn't up to par with the horchata from Elmer's... it was the cheap kind.

I got home after midnight. And yes... I did have a good time.

This morning I worked on physics. And ate cookies. And was soooo bored. So bored. But I needed a break from homework. So I played the keyboard we have in our kitchen. I don't know if I've just come to recognize Ryan's knock or something, but I heard a knock at our front door and knew who it was... But I was in the middle of a piano piece and just kept playing. I let Jackie open the door. I didn't hear who it was, so I kept playing.

"Jenna?"

"Yeah, Jackie?"

"You wanna go to the MTC? Me and Hillary are both way too tired."

"Yeah, of course... I am so bored. So bored."

Ryan rounded the corner into the kitchen. "Oh good. I've been looking all over for bored people!"

So Ryan and I went to the MTC together. Just as we got there it started sprinkling. We signed in as volunteers, and then got to pretend to be investigators together. Except there were a ton of volunteers (as in more volunteers than missionaries) so instead a different couple got to pretend to be investigators, and we got to pretend to be member friends of said investigators. Ryan likes to go volunteer at the MTC so that he can mooch off good teaching ideas for his mission from the practicing missionaries. Today was a good reap for him, and he was excited when we left and started telling me all about what he learned.

When we got out, everything was wet. There had been a vicious downpour while we had been inside... but now the rain was gone, and the sun was coming out. Perfect. We didn't even have to get wet. We walked back home. When we got to my place, Ryan grabbed me from behind for his hug. "Ahh!" I hadn't been expecting getting grabbed from behind, so I squirmed around until I faced front... ("Argh! Can I please face front?" "Bwahahahaha!")

Now I am doing more homework. Whoo. At least the hard homework is done!

In Which I Am Jobless, My Brain Turns to Mush, and I End Up Not Owing My Roommates M&Ms...

Yesterday has to be one of the most spectacularly strange days I've had in awhile. I survived. This 'un is a tad long, but then, yesterday was long. So... I feel justified.

I woke up, and it was dark outside. The clouds had parted enough that the moonlight was shining through my window. My alarm hadn't gone off, so I figured it was before 3:30 am... I tried to look at my watch, but all I could see in the near pitch blackness was the minute hand, which lay squarely on the 11th hour... ?:55. Okay. I figured it was 2:55 am. I reached for my phone to make sure.

I flipped it open. My brain fell through down to my knees and I felt sick immediately.

5:55 am.

I am so late for work. With a rush of adrenaline, I got out of bed, walked out of my bedroom... and I made it to the kitchen couch, at which point I just sat back down. I was out of energy already.

In fact, I felt numb all over. Late for work? How can this be? I promised myself I wouldn't miss anymore work this month. I started reviewing the last month in my head. The first week of the month consisted mostly of going to bed on time, and then staring at the ceiling, not able to sleep in the slightest... and then, just when I would start to drift off to sleep, I would jerk awake from the sound of my alarm clock cheerily informing me it was time to go to week. At this point, there was no way I was going to work. I would then call in, and then gather a few hours of sleep before class would start. The second week was different... I could sleep, but I was miserably sick. The third week... I went to work for the first half, and then the plague of the first week came back. I was up all night, thinking... and then I would get enormously frustrated that I couldn't sleep when I so obviously was exhausted...

I promised myself I wouldn't miss work again this month no matter what.

And here I am. Missing work. Again. Sitting on the couch. Numb. Staring into space.

I need to quit... No, no... I can't do that... You've flipped your lid. You're trying to spin too many plates, and this one just dropped and shattered.

That little voice in my head was right. I need to quit.

At that thought, limp tears started streaming down my face. Why am I so upset? My mind was active, even if I was as physically active as a vegetable... Quitting something has always felt like failing something to me. For me, it was a matter of pride... at all costs, I avoid admitting that I can't do everything to the point where I actually believe I can do everything and not go crazy. And by the time I realize I can't do it all, and I do go crazy, it's obvious to me that I can't actually quit any of it anymore.

But... I can quit work.

No, I can't. I need the money.

You need to think this through. How much do I have? How much do I need, and when? I've got enough to last me through the rest of winter semester, all of spring, and most of next fall. I'll need to take up work some more in the spring and the summer. But... the point is, I can afford to be jobless for the remainder of this semester... which I need to do.

I need to do this, and I can afford to.

My resolve stiffened, I look over at the clock, and I blink... back in reality, I see that it's 6:40... Wow... did I really spend all that time just sitting on the couch, thinking? Slightly energized with my decision, but still teary-eyed and wet-faced, I get up, gather my things, and head out the door. I nearly forget the bagels.

It is a tradition at our weekly training meetings to have a breakfast potluck... and every time I was assigned to bring something, I would take it to work, even if I had called in sick. It would be awful to go down to talk to my boss and forget bagels after all that...

I gloomily walk down to the JFSB, books and bagels in hand. I walk in the back way... go down the elevator, and find the custodial office. My boss isn't there. The other crew's boss tries to call him on the radio, but he left his radio in the office.

I leave the bag of bagels on top of the pile of food in the office for the breakfast potluck my co-workers were about to have... then I went to hunt down Glen, my boss.

I finally found him in the Anthropology Lab. "Hi, Glen."

"Hey, you found me! ... You didn't call in at all..."

"No... I... I just woke up, and I need to talk to you so..."

He looked at me, and the tears that had been stuck on my eyelids finally started falling down my face. Why was I so ashamed?

"Jennifer, do you need to quit?"

"I... Yes. Yes, I need to quit." I explained to him what had been going on lately with my life, and with that, my eyes started making tears faster than they could get rid of them. I was pretty much blinded.

Oh, this was so embarrassing. One of the things I've always hated that I've never succeeded in changing is not being able to hold back tears when I feel like crying. A skill like that would be mighty useful at this point.

"Jennifer, it's okay..." And with that he proceeded to explain that I needn't be embarrassed or ashamed for needing to quit. Then he said something that surprised me. "We'll go ahead and make today your last day."

I blinked. The policy was that if I ever were to quit, I had to give a two-weeks notice. But he just said...

"Well, you've been one of the best workers we've ever had. You're dedicated... I mean, you even bring the food you said you'd bring to the potluck even when you're sick!"

I was starting to go numb again.

"Okay, Jennifer, I'll go terminate your paperwork right now... And if you ever can and want to come back, I'll definitely let you come back. I'd hire you again immediately. And you can still come to our potlucks on Friday! Okay?"

I nodded, and then we said goodbye and I left.

And I felt numb again.

But the day wasn't over at all. I hadn't even gotten through half of my homework last night. I plunged through my calculus homework in the math department computer lab and then...

Frozen.

No. No. I JUST FINISHED IT!

When I brought the program back up... I had lost all my algorithms. No... no... I don't have TIME for this. I just don't! I did it again, and then printed it off. And then I got out my physics.

I looked through the homework.

And then I looked through it again.

What? This... can't be happening to me! I don't understand any of this! I can't handle this right now... I haven't had time to look at it yet. I don't have time to do it now.

But I plunged on... except slower than a snail would do it. Much slower. In fact, I don't think I was making any progress at all.

The bell rang.

I closed my eyes and said a little prayer. Then I got up and went to calculus. I made an executive decision to take notes instead of sleeping or continuing through the physics homework. And then after class was over, I headed for the MARB, so I could work on the physics some more.

But then... Eat, Jenna. You haven't eaten yet this morning and it's almost 10am. You need to eat. So... instead, I turned around, and steered straight for the Cougareat. I grabbed food and then I went to the MARB. I ate it. Then I looked at the clock. 10:30. I've got half and hour until physics class starts.

I began to despair. I pulled out the physics again, read through the problems. I didn't even know where to start.

Jenna! Look at your syllabus!

...The syllabus isn't going to help me with this.

Look at your syllabus.

So I pulled it out. My eyes jumped to the section titled, Homework. I read it, despairing.

And then...

A ray of hope. "After the due date, homework is late and worth 1/4 of the points. Three late assignments will be forgiven and counted as on time." I blinked and looked down at the quantity of assignments due today... three assignments. Exactly. I just hadn't had time. And... it was alright. Everything was going to be okay. I decided to try and finish just one of the assignments before 1pm, which was when the homework was due.

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to do so. I ended getting half way done, but I didn't get through it all... But it was okay. I just needed to turn everything else in on time for the remainder of the semester. And everything would be fine...

After physics, I ran to choir. After that, I ran to biology.

And... biology let out early. So I headed down to the physics lab.

And thankfully... the physics lab was ridiculously easy. I just had to set up a network of resistors with an equivalent resistance equal to the last four digits of my BYUID number. It literally took me five minutes. I ran home. Took the hyperquiz for biology... and then... a sigh of relief.

I... I can relax.

I just sat on my bed for a bit. Then I got up and cleaned the kitchen. Then I found Hillary in her room. She was playing the Sims, and had created a Sim family for me. She informed me that the Sim Jenna (named Code Blue Pheonix... yes, Pheonix, not Phoenix) was pregnant. I watched her manipulate Code Blue and her family until the Sim child was born... and then grown into a child. Then we watched Return of the Cat.

In the middle of the movie, Rochelle, who was sitting at my computer and using it, yelled, "Jenna! Ryan's talking to you! He says, 'You quit your job?'" I get up.

"Yeah, I did quit my job..."

Rochelle laughed evilly, and then imitated my voice. "Yes, my love, I did! I quit so I could spend more time with you!"

I rolled my eyes, and Ashley laughed. "Ahaha! Ro, I would pay you to type that!"

Thankfully, I got to my computer in time to prevent such a happening. I told Ryan I was busy, and signed out of chat so that Ro wouldn't do anything mean, and then I went and finished watching the movie. After that, I played the piano.

Knock knock knock...

I take off the headphones from the keyboard and look at the clock. 7:20...

Oh yeah, I have a date! Hillary gets the door, and it's Ryan. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uhh... yes." I grab my coat and we go. We talk all the way over to the HFAC, mostly about why I decided to quit my job. I realize suddenly just how ridiculously stressed I am. And suddenly I was so thankful I was on a date doing something instead of just aimlessly wandering about my apartment like I do when I'm stressed.

We walk into the recital hall and to our shock and amazement... it is jam packed. This was just a little opera performance! I look around for seats... "Hey, let's sit in our spot!" We have a spot? I look up to the top of the hall, where Ryan was looking, to a little corner in the back, where we last time we came to a music performance. Two seats... empty.

We squeeze our way over to them. I glance Hillary and Rachel coming in after us... I guess they had decided to spy on us tonight. Silly roommates.

And then it started.

So... confession time. During the middle of the opera, I looked over at Ryan... and then at his hands. And I thought, I want to hold his hand... I'm sure you've had those moments where time just stops and your brain splits in two and starts arguing... this was one of those times. I eventually convinced myself it was a terrible idea, because he was leaving on his mission in a few months... and I already knew I would be ridiculously sad when it happened. Holding hands would make it even worse. And, Ryan said he didn't want a girlfriend before his mission, and I had agreed with him, because I didn't want a pre-mish boyfriend. And holding hands was the sort of thing girlfriends and boyfriends did. So it was settled.

I started paying attention again to the opera.

Then Ryan whispers in my ear, "Hey, can I hold your hand?"

Whoa. "What?" I cannot have heard that right. I can't have...

"Uh... Can I hold your hand?"

Apparently I did hear that right. "Why?"

I don't what he had been expecting me to say, but it obviously wasn't 'why?'. He didn't know what to say... "Uhhh... because... because I'm scared?" He said it in a silly sort of voice that meant he wanted to... just because he wanted to.

"No!"

"Oh. Okay." And with that the next scene started and he slunk down in his seat.

After the opera, we went to the library and watched Home Star Runner videos for awhile. I think that by that time, my brain had turned to some sort of ghastly green mush. I was so tired... So tired.

"What do you want to do?" "You want to watch something else?" "Wanna go somewhere else?"

I think a long stream of "I don't know"s was the only answer I gave Ryan.

Finally, I realized that I was tired. I told him so.

He just kind of looked at me for a moment. "You mean this whole time you've been trying to tell me you want to go home?"

"Uhh... no... no... well, I don't know." Oh shoot, I'm doing the 'I dunno' thing again. How extraordinarily annoying that must be for him. Then, "Well, I guess let's go home."

He walked me home, and he gave me an extraordinarily terse hug, and then I went inside.

Jackie ran out the door with pillow in hand... she was going to save us a spot on the sign-up list for the Monticello apartments for next year. We had all planned on sleeping over there, but I just felt so ridiculously tired...

In the kitchen, I was greeted by Rachel and Hillary. "Heeeeeeeeeyyy!" they squealed happily.

"Hi." Ooh, I sounded dead.

They stared at me. "Why the grimace?" I told them about the holding hands thing. Rachel laughed at me, as did Hillary, but it was a sympathetic rather than mocking sort. Hillary comforted me as best she could.

I cried for a bit (because usually Fridays are wonderful, and this one wasn't), then I went to bed.

So, all in all, yesterday was... horrid. But looking on the bright side...

Bright side. Is there one? Okay, stretching it. It is tradition at BYU for girls that the first time you hold hands with a guy, you owe your roommates M&Ms. The first kiss, you owe them all ice cream. Engagement... steak dinner.

So here's the bright side. I continue to not owe anyone M&Ms. I'd say that's a good thing?

Men Treat Me Like I'm a Princess.

Yesterday was... interesting to say the least. It was an extremely jam-packed day, if I may say so. I woke up around 4am... oh dear, that means I'll be late! So, I call my boss and tell him I'm going to be late... and I was. I then cleaned stairs for about three hours. Then I scurried over to the Talmage building where I did my physics and calculus homework. Then I went to calculus.

After that was over, I made my way to the MARB, and seated myself comfortably on the top level next to a power outlet, where I plugged in my dear Jacques (my laptop) and began to hurriedly do my biology homework. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw some guys walking around with boxes of Krispy Kremes... I felt a twinge of jealousy and then tuned them out.

"HI!"

I jumped and looked up. One of the Krispy Kreme guys was offering me a donut. Oh, yes please. I happily take it. The guy walks away, offering donuts to my study neighbors. I look down at my glazed prize.

At this point, I thought of Ryan, because he often reminisces about Krispy Kremes. The closest shop is in Orem, and neither of us have a car, so our chances of coming across them are slim. I smile as I take a bite of the artery-clogging goodness. He would be so jealous.

My donut gone, I continue working on biology. The bell rings and I continue working. I was right next to my classroom, and the class that was in there now had to get out first. It was suddenly very crowded in the hallways, so I scrunched up a little, and kept my head down. And then...

BAM!

Some black-shoed guy had very abruptly slammed down on the ground in front of me, and I jumped. My head jerked up to see the face of the culprit. Oh, it's Ryan... he was one of the people who had to vacate my classroom so I could get in there.

"...Did you hit your head on the brick when I scared you?"

"No, no, I didn't."

"Is that biology?"

"Yeah..."

"That is a huuuuge book!"

"Yep. ... ... ... I had a Krispy Kreme today!"

"What?!? Where'd you get one of those?" I told him. And then he looked so miffed. "Jenna, you should have grabbed me one!" "That's rude though..." "Then... then... you should have come and gotten me! Pulled me out of class! You knew I was in there!" I shook my head, and started to pack up my biology and put it in my enormous backpack. And he was so sad. I promised that if it ever happened again, I would come get him. He went to his class, and I walked into physics.

It was a tad boring today. After that, I dashed off to choir... then after that I dashed off to biology. And after that I dashed over to the JSB, where I did my Book of Mormon homework, and then proceeded to fall asleep on the ground next to the door of my next class. Except I wasn't asleep... very close to it, but not asleep. Every time someone passed me, I would open my eyes. At one point Ryan had come, but then saw I was asleep, and then left again. At least he thought I was sleeping.

The bell rang. I almost got up... and then decided against it. I just laid there. And then Ryan showed up again. "Wake up!"

"Uggghh... I am, I am..." And then we went into the classroom. I groggily blinked around at people as they came in.

"Are you busy tonight?" I was. So busy. "Yeah... I've got orchestra and a mandatory dance lab I have to go to... So I'm busy from seven to ten!" Ryan sighed sadly. "Oh... Dallin randomly buys things he doesn't need..."

What? That was random. Well, it wasn't, but I didn't know this at the time. Dallin [his roommate] had bought tickets to the men's chorus concert that night, and then after realizing he couldn't go, gave them to Ryan. And now Ryan was desperately trying to find a date. Unfortunately, every girl he had asked had been busy beyond all reason and couldn't go. I sympathize with him, and then class starts.

After that, I ran home with Hillary (who is also in our Book of Mormon class), starving.

Hillary made sloppy joes, and I did my Isaiah homework.

And then I ran off to orchestra and played bassoon for awhile. Then Jackie and I ran off to the dance lab. Ah, so this was why Dallin was busy. He was there too, along with Roy, Josef, Ian, and Michael. Clifton was there too, but he had sprained his ankle. I danced with all of them until about ten'o'clock, at which point we could leave.

The boys left first. And I tried to follow them and catch up, but there were these blasted heels... Oh blast it all. I took off my heels and ran after them in socks... into the outside, where it was snowing wetly. The ground was cold and wet, but... my feet hurt from being in heels for so long, and then it wasn't very far from the Wilk to my apartment. I decided it wasn't worth it to wear the heels.

I dash after the boys... "Hey! I don't want to walk home alone!" I join them.

"...You're not wearing your shoes..."

"No, I'm not."

"And the ground is cold and wet!"

"Yes, I can feel that... It's not that bad..."

And then Dallin pipes up... "Do you want us to carry you home?"

I laugh at this, and protest, "I'm wearing a skirt! Somehow I don't think that would work too well!"

Dallin and Michael look at each other, and form a nice seat out of their arms. Hm. This could be a good thing. "Come on, we could totally carry you!"

I sit down on the arm-seat. And then they lift me up. Whooooaaaa... the instability was amazing... and then Dallin complains, "Michael, you're too short. Ian's more my height, that would be better!"

So they put me down. And then Ian and Dallin formed a seat. And then they lifted me up again. It was misty, and it was snowing/raining. Michael took my shoes and carried them for me.

"Jenna, wave like this!" Michael demonstrated, in much the same way they do in Princess Diaries. So, I waved at the passing cars.

"Do you feel like a princess, Jenna?" asked Ian (or maybe it was Dallin?).

"Yes, yes, I do. This is so amazing!"

Unfortunately, this didn't last very long. The boys below me finally had to put me down. They looked rather dejected and ashamed for not being able to carry me all the way home, and apologized for being so weak.

When I walked inside, my roommates immediately demanded why I looked so smug. "Well... I just got carried home by men!"

"WHAT? Why, you manipulative little witch. ... ... Teach me," demanded Rachel.

"What? How to manipulate men?"

"Yes."

Rachel was upset with the whole night.