Noodles.

Ah, President's Day. No school. Yessss.

Still, this means Jenna is stuck with her nose in a biology book. So many of my roommates have been gone. Ashley was in urgent care, Rochelle, as usual, was missing in action. Jackie was at a relative's house. Hillary and Rachel were here, but were busy entertaining their old high school friend, Latecia. So... I was practically alone in the apartment. I suppose I could have gone over to the guy's hall, but Ryan was at his grandparent's house, and Will is just plain depressing.

Ah, biology. How exquisitely exciting when you don't have a test the next day. Poring over the book... filling out charts...

KNOCK KNOCK.

What does Ryan want? Wait a minute. Ryan isn't in Provo... is he?

I answer the door.

Hm. Ryan's back. So much for studying biology. And... I realize that I'm hungry. Snack time.

Ryan invades my kitchen and begins telling me all about his crazy adventures with cardboard boxes over the weekend. I happily start munching (I forget what I was eating... but I think I made myself something tasty). And suddenly, Ryan perks up.

"Hey! Did I tell you I learned how to make noodles?"

I blink. I must have misheard. "You made noodles?"

"Yeah, I learned how to make them last week!"

Wait. Whoa, now. Learned how to make noodles last week? My brain nearly fell through to my stomach. "You... you didn't know how to make them before?"

"Well, no... except for the noodles in the Mac'n'Cheese boxes... but then they make just plain noodles! And sell them in plastic packages!"

"You've never made noodles before?!? NEVER?"

"No!"

There is a slight awkward pause.

"Oh, and I also found out that they make spaghetti sauce and sell it in jars!"

Holy macaroons. My goodness. What has this boy been eating his whole life? "Well, yes..."

"And... they also make it in cans, right?"

I nod slowly. "Yes... of course they do... but it tastes slightly of can, and that's why most people prefer the jarred sauce..." At this, he looked confused, and didn't say anything. "Well, it's cheaper in cans, and you can get rid of the tinny taste really easy... you just add a little bit of sugar to it, and it's all better." He just kind of looked around at everything and anything except for me... he was ashamed... or something. "But that doesn't really matter if you know how to make your own... it tastes better if you make your own sauce anyway... you know, your own meat, your own seasoning..."

I think at this point he was excited to hear something familiar. "Oh, that's what Dallin said!" Dallin, Ryan's roommate, is probably the most amazing cook I've ever met in my life. I mean, he could cook for a girl and then propose... and not get rejected because the food is so good.

"Good, good..."

At this point, Hillary, Rachel, and Latecia enter the kitchen and start fixing themselves dinner as well. Hillary starts making Brussels sprouts. Ryan watches curiously. Timidly, he asks, "How do you make those?"

Add water. Add butter. Add heat. Done.

"Oh. Can you do that with pretty much any vegetable you want to cook?"

"Yeah..." Hillary and Rachel start to watch him suspiciously, as if they thought he were teasing them. But then...

I blurt out, "He's never made noodles before until last week!" I was glad my roommates took this news in much the same way I did. Their heads swiveled to look at the oddity was the noodleless creature Ryan.

"N-n-n-never?"

"Well, no. Not 'till last week..."

Can you make this? No. How about this? No. This? What do you think? No.

I eye him suspiciously. "Ryan... is there anything you can cook?"

"Uhh... well, I made mashed potatoes... once..." And then, hopefully, "Do you guys know how to make mashed potatoes?" We all nod solemnly, at which point Ryan droops again in shame. Then, he perks up again. "Oh, but have you known how to make them for a long time?" We gently assure him that we've been making mashed potatoes for as long as we could remember. His head dropped sadly.

He left rather abruptly after that.

But then, about an hour later, I hear another knock. I answer the door again to find Ryan peering in from the other side, looking extremely excited. "Jenna! Guess what? I made noodles! Wanna see?"

"Oh, I'm proud of you--"

"Wanna see 'em?"

"Um, sure... where are they?"

Ryan had commandeering my neighbor's kitchen. I walk in to see a pan of boiling water with noodles inside. And Ryan was just glowing happily. He dipped his stirring spoon into the hot noodle-water mixture to pull out a few noodles... then he poked them gleefully. "Ooh! Look, Jenna, noodles!"

"Yeah... noodles..." I look down at the pot. The water looked like it was about to boil over the sides. "Uhh... I think you put too much water in..."

He blinked and dropped his happy little noodles into the pot again. "I did? Oh no, what do I do now?"

"Uhh... turn down the heat a little. A stir a bit more... It'll still boil, just not as high..." That fixed, Ryan went back to glowing happily. And then, he pointed out his sauce. Yes, it was the kind they sell in jars. And he was so proud of it. I tried hard not to laugh. I ended up just shaking my head and smiling, and then I looked up at him. "How long do you have before your mission?"

"My availability date is June 19th!"

"And... you can't cook? Ryan, you're going to starve. There probably isn't going to be an abundance of frozen pizzas and Spaghettio's... especially since you won't have much money! You're going to die!"

He ignored me.

"Ryan, I'm going to teach you how to cook. Forget the potato gun. Cooking. I would prefer it if you lived through your mission."

"Uhh... I can cook more than you think! I... I can make macaroni and cheese! And mashed potatoes! I learned about gravy this weekend! You can actually make it from meat drippings... or you can buy packets for it at the store!"

"Um. Yes, I know." I looked pointedly at him. "So what are you going to learn to make this week?"

"Uhhh... Um. I think I'll perfect my mashed potatoes."

"Okay. And gravy. You'll make gravy too."

"Uhh, okay..."

And with that I went home.

A Torrent of Rochelle

I have a roommate who I never really see... all during the day she is working and playing somewhere, and generally she doesn't get home until about 2 am every morning, at which point I'm definitely in bed. This is Rochelle. And she should grow up and be a motivational counselor type person.

Tonight... or I suppose this morning, Rochelle came home to find everyone here awake, and writing essays. (The big paper, which I was only half done with, was due at 11am that morning...) Everyone was pretty darn stressed. But... apparently I was even more stressed than everyone else. She came down upon me and accused me of the serious crime of emanating great waves of stress throughout the apartment... "Jenna, we're gonna do some breathing."

I stare at her in bewilderment. Breathing?

Rochelle promptly turns off my light. She sets her way-cool candle down on my desk... and then... "Breathe in... breathe out... breathe in... breathe out..." I am too tired to argue. I suppose I can follow directions long enough to make her happy and make her go away.

But then.

"All right! REPEAT AFTER ME!"

Oh no? Yelling now are we? Oh joy, what is she going to make me say?! "Okay..."

"MY NAME IS JENNA MARIE GRIFFIN!"

"My name is Jenna Marie Griffin?"

"I AM A DAUGHTER OF GOD!"

"I am a daughter of Go-"

"I'M GOING TO ACE ALL MY FINALS!"

"I'm going to ace all my finals..."

"I KICK ROCHELLE'S BUTT EVERYDAY AT SCHOOL! I'M AMAZINGLY COOL! I'M REALLY PRETTY! EVERYONE ONE IS AMAZED BY ME... AND RYAN STRONG IS FREAKING IN LOVE WITH ME!" At this point Rachel, Hillary, and Jackie are all cracking up at Rochelle and I. I kind of look up at Rochelle like she's crazy while blushing at that last part. She gives this ridiculous repeat-after-me-or-die look... so, having forgotten the majority of what she'd said... "Ditto?"

"AMEN! GLORY, HALLELUJAH!"

And I am left to finish that blasted research paper.

Oh, the Pudding.

Warning: This 'un is a tad bit long. (Understatement).

Oh, the Saturday.

I have locked myself in my room, so that I can do homework.

Of course, I have my Internet browser in Gmail, as always. I hover over my poor inbox like a vulture, hoping for an email from someone, anyone. I also have iTunes up, and I am listening to my usual batch of music.

I am busily working on calculus, and I am getting tired. Tired enough to fall asleep... I turn my music up louder and get back to working. Sluggishly.

Dink.

I open my eyes, and wipe the calculus off my face.

Dink.

What is going on?!?!

Oh. The Google chat. Ryan is talking to me.

We chat about random things for about fifteen minutes as I do calculus. The good thing is, I am now awake. This is why I keep my chat open when I'm working... harder to fall asleep that way.

Then, rather abruptly, he asks if I'd like to go on a walk.

I should have seen it coming, really. I mean, he was kind of asking about what I was doing... and how busy I was. And if I had devoted the entire night to goofing off just yet. So maybe the walk question wasn't as abrupt as I thought it was.

Immediately after asking if I'd like to go on a walk, he starts talking about random other things, like haircuts and such. I think he was half-hoping I hadn't noticed the line asking me to walk with him. The thing is, I told him I would walk with him. But he continued talking about haircuts for another few minutes until he finally noticed what I had said about the walk, at which point he says something like, "Wait... did you say you WERE up for a walk?"

Silly boy. We decide he'll meet me at the bottom of my back-door stairs, so I grab my keys and tell Jackie that I'm going.

Unfortunately, sly little Jackie asks exactly the wrong question. "A walk? With who?"

"Er... Ryan..."

Jackie pretty much explodes with energy. "A DATE! ANOTHER TALLY MARK!" See, we have a little white board in our kitchen where we keep track of how many dates we've been on. I had three tallies. Jackie prances over to said white board and happily puts a fourth tally mark by my name. I blink. I hadn't actually thought of it as a date.

So, stubbornly, I make my way to the board, and erase the tally mark. "Not a date."

"Well, did he ask you?"

"Yeah. Just now."

"It's a date!" She marks it up on the board again. I erase it again, and walk out the door,knowing full well that I'll have to erase it again when I got home... whenever that might be. I didn't see the sense in counting it as a date. I mean, it wouldn't have counted as a date if it had been Clifton, or Will, or any of my other guy friends. Silly Jackie.

Even with the Tally Mark War, I got outside first. When Ryan comes out of the neighboring hall and sees me already standing out there, he runs over.

Oh, the pudding (translation: oh, the adventure). Ryan decides to show me some fun stuff. We start by exploring Upper Heritage (we live in Lower Heritage). He seems to have a particular destination in mind at first. This destination ended up being Whitney Hall... which had a spectacular Peanuts mural in the window, the best by far depicting Lucy as BYU and Charlie Brown as Utah. Of course, Charlie Brown had tried to kick the football, and Lucy had stolen the football just as he was about the kick. It was amazing.

Then we explored on the inside. We discover that in addition to having four floors instead of three, Upper Heritage Halls also have more washers and dryers, a larger sundeck, and a nicer and bigger piano room. We sneak around stealthily and make our escape from the strange alien building from the basement door.

Now we make our way west, to the pretty little path alongside the stream near the bell tower. We stop at what Ryan says is "his bench." He tells stories about his EFY adventures and chasing ducks around. He even had a video of duck chasing on his phone that we watched. I think we both would have been up for some duck chasing had the ducks not moved to the other side of the stream (smart ducks).

Upon my comment, that I hadn't ever actually touched the bell tower, we climbed the stairs to it. We decided it would be fun to climb up it if we had been ninjas. However, since neither of us had enough ninja skill to climb up it, we moved on to the Bean Museum. We were going to go inside, but I figured out that it closed in ten minutes and that it wouldn't be very nice to scare the workers in there.

We moved on to a curb in between the ruins of Deseret Towers and the Museum. Apparently this curb also belongs to Ryan, again, because he spent time there when he came up for EFY.

Then... the deserted Deseret Towers. Ay, where there once stood U and V Hall, now stood two large piles of dirt. How sad. We wanted to explore that, but decided it probably wasn't safe and went around it to the Morris Center. It is surrounded by large piles of red leaves, obviously neglected by the landscaping crews. We peer in through the window. Weird. It's all... empty and spooky. We proceed over the remaining four towers, and look inside. Apparently, this is where Ryan lived when he came up for EFY and it was sad for him to see all the furniture thrown out the windows. There were large fences around the three northernmost towers, and we would have scaled it and explored in there had there not been a sign on the fence warning of a $300 fine.

Well, that's when we decided to move on. We passed the Morris Center again, and then walked past the Marriott Center to where Helaman Halls was. We didn't explore that, but instead saw the new Hinckley Center and decided to explore that. Unfortunately, that was closed (it WAS a Saturday). So...

That's when I decided to show Ryan around the JFSB. That's where I work every morning. He was thrilled about there being two computer labs in there that he didn't know about. I showed him a nice little study area with an expensive Persian rug. He wanted to go up the balcony on the top floor, but it was locked, sadly. Then... on the top floor, we saw that there were stairs still going up. Ooh! We stealthily climb up those and try the door at the top, but that is locked too. I'd imagine that actually led to the roof-roof. I'll never know I guess.

After that, we explored the library. Ryan knows a lot more about the library than I do... besides the SWKT, that's practically where he lives. We explored the moving bookshelves, and he showed me his favorite study spots. Then we found the little model of the entire BYU campus. It's amazing how detailed that thing is. Amazing.

We were about to ascend up the stairs again when we saw a humongous picture of BYU. Of course, we had to go back down and look for places we knew on it. We found the Creamery on Ninth... and thus we found our places near it. Ryan knew a whole lot about the Creamery... apparently it used to be called Carson's Market, and his dad used to work there. After that, we looked up and saw through the Atrium glass that it was dark outside.

We decided to go home. But then, as we passed the Wilk, Ryan decided he had to show me the Memorial Room too. We went in there, but we could see next door that something was happening. So we left. Then we walked home. Ryan gave me two hugs (the second was better than the first), and then I walked up the stairs and into my apartment. No one was home. At all. I shrugged, reduced my tally marks to three, looked at the clock and... Ahhhh! That walk was two and a half hours. Sick.

Not sure what to do now, I sat down at the piano and started playing. Someone knocked. I opened the door. It was a pair of Jackie's friends from Helaman Halls from her home ward. They came in. A few minutes later, Jackie came home.

Here comes the funny part (at least in my opinion).

And then, as I re-entered my room after a long break from calculus, Jackie tackled me. She grabbed me by both shoulders, and gave me this strange, intense look. "What. Happened."

I blinked. "Uhhh... we walked..."

"AND?"

I wondered what that was supposed to mean. I explained that "nothing" happened and I only got a hug, supposing she meant something along those lines.

She let me go, but she was still giving me those suspicious looks.

Well, I confronted her about it later. Here's the dealio according to Jackie. Her friends had been "spying" on Ryan and I and had told her a tall tale about how we were making out, as a practical joke on Jackie (she is very gullible sometimes). Silly people. My reaction to this little rumor was a mixture of shock and laughter, which eventually ended up on my face as a raised eyebrow. No wonder Jackie was so confused and freaked out. :)

But no, the apartment rumors didn't stop there. I don't know if any of you have ever lived in a building full of girls, but if you say something about a guy, it isn't long before the whole building knows about it and has made it gospel. So... guess who happened to be half-eavesdropping? Ashley.

In this case, half-eavesdropping is more deadly than full-eavesdropping. Because guess what key words she'd pick up if she wasn't listening all the way? "Jenna..." "Ryan..." "making out..." "walk..." "Nooooo!'

So Ashley perks up in her chair and exclaims with a gleeful look on her face, "What? Jenna and Ryan went on a make-out walk?!?!? Oooohhh...."

At this point, I have my face buried in my hands while simultaneously trying frantically to make it absolutely clear that nothing happened whatsoever.

So Ashley knows it isn't true. But... Ashley and Rochelle happen to be the kind of people who don't care if it's true or not. If they think something is funny, they'll spread word about it regardless of its verity.

By some miracle, the "make out walk" rumor disappears after that. Thank the heavens above. Until...

It's Sunday night after midnight, when Jackie gets home from a late night solo walk. She had been talking on the phone with a guy friend. But she was all alone. Immediately, Rochelle, Ashley, Christina, and I pounce on her. WHAT WERE YOU THINKING! Walking alone talking on the phone to a guy...

The latter phrase evolved slowly from "walking alone on the phone with a guy" to "walking alone talking to a guy" to "walking alone with a guy." I am so upset with Jackie's lack of safety precautions that I haven't noticed this transformation of situations that we are denouncing...

All of a sudden, someone in the frenzy yells, "WELL THEN! If we going to punish anyone for walking alone with a guy, it should be Jenna! TWO AND A HALF HOURS WALKING ALONE WITH RYAN!"

All eyes are now on me, venomous, and yet gleeful at the same time. Ooh, not good. Ashley pipes up, "Oooh, and they were making out!" Ooh, definitely not good. Not good at all.

At this comment, the venom disappears and the glee of new-found gossip takes over, causing a large explosion of "WHAT?!?!"s and "REALLY?!?!"s. Jackie's sins are forgotten completely. Now mine are foremost in everyone's mind.

I vehemently deny that I made out with Ryan. Vehemently. And just when I thought I had convinced them, Christina butts in slyly. "Wait a minute. You keep saying 'I didn't make out with Ryan...' What about him? He made out with you, didn't he?"

At the uproar that follows this little snakebite, I flip into the hallway. Now pressed against the wall, I shake my head and mutter, "No, no no no no no no..." At this point, I decide most fully that I do not like girls' senses of humor. Especially when it comes to guys.

So now I wonder... was the pudding worth its price?

Oh dear.

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

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

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

Well, about last week.

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

----------------

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

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

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

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

It was once perfect cookie dough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

♥Jenna

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

--------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Smokin'! And... Getting Hit On.

Forgive me, all. But I am about to relate to you an extremely silly story that quite demonstrates how very much I need to improve my observation skills. And it has to do with smoke.

This all happened last night (why is it that the funny things happen on Sunday?) while my roommate was attempting to Americanize some Japanese dish. I don't remember what they were called, but my best guess is nikamun, and I truly don't know what they are. The best I can do to describe them is like...deep fried (I suspect that's the Americanized part) meat eggrolls. Only not.

While Rachel, my roommate, was cooking the meat, Clifton (a guy from our ward) comes over and asks if we want to come over to his place for dinner in an hour. He thought he was too late, because he saw us cooking, but we said that we would go ahead and bring what we were making to the "family dinner" (because he and some of his roommates are in our family home evening group). He left us to finish cooking.

After the meat was done, Rachel started heating the oil, and then she, Hillary, and I started rolling the meat up in the dough. I was proud of mine, because I could make them so cute like little meat envelopes. I loved that mine had more aesthetic value than those of my roommates. While I was caught up in making these things so cute, and Rachel and Hillary were caught up in making them hold meat in the first place, we finally have the sense to realize that... it smells REALLY bad... and come to think about it, we can't really breathe very well either. Our attention captured, we look up in horror to see Rachel's pan of oil has heated up WAY too fast and is ejecting huge clouds of thick smoke into our once-breathable kitchen air. We kind of blink at each other and think something along the lines of Huh... that's not good.

Then came the idea that there is a smoke detector somewhere around here. While Rachel takes the pan off the heat, Hillary and I located the detector: right outside the kitchen in the hallway. We decide that since there isn't actually a fire, we don't want that going off and summoning the fire department. We hurriedly shut the kitchen-hallway door. Then we throw open the kitchen window, turn on the fan as loud and powerful as it can get, and then proceed to prop open the kitchen-outside door with chairs. At this point the air in our kitchen is not breathable. The three of us rush out the back door, down the stairs and onto the grass where the air is finally breathable.

At this point, the guy who invited us over had the misfortune of wondering if we were done yet. He calls Rochelle, one of our other roommates, who is safely shut in her room, which is farthest away from the kitchen. Since the kitchen door is shut, and I scientifically presume that the smoke would rather go out the windows and the back door than through the crack under the hallway door, and therefore assume she is safe. I did not take into account that she would get a call from Clifton and then come into the kitchen to track our progress.

According to Rochelle's account she unsuspectingly glides down the hallway, and finding the kitchen door shut, wonders, I wonder why the kitchen door is shut... it's never shut. Innocently she opens the kitchen door and -- "ARGGH!!!!!!" And she hangs up on Clifton.

She joins us down on the grass near our apartment, and we explain to her what happened. Just then, Clifton and one of his roommates, Jon, round the corner, and look bewildered to see our door propped open and expelling clouds of smoke and us sitting on the grass. This wasn't good, because we were hoping the boys wouldn't have found out.

By this time, Rachel decides that the air inside the kitchen is breathable, and goes off to put our toxic creations into the oven instead. The boys return to their apartment. Hillary and I cautiously follow her, discussing carbon monoxide poisoning and marveling about what sort of chemical reaction must have taken place in the oil for it to emit such vile smoke. We decide Rachel would die first if any of us died, so if Rachel collapsed, then we might call 911. Fortunately, we decide we are all healthy except for our sense of smell being scarred for life.

We eventually make it over to the guy's apartment with our toxic eggrolls, which apparently didn't taste so bad. The guys had pork chops and rice and salad and avocados and... juice? Huh. So we sat there laughing at each other, and then Clifton brings up movies. Last week he was mumbling to me about something to with Facebook and movies in class when he wasn't supposed to be talking, and at my expressed confusion, he gave up. he clarified at this dinner. Apparently, according to Facebook's movie application, we pretty much like all the same movies. It said we were a 82% match, which is practically impossible. I didn't really care, but he seemed excited. So the whole table gets into a discussion about what movies we like the most. I say, "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" and get great approval from the both guys and girls.

The subject turns slightly to favorite Disney movies. All the people who go before me say the ones I really like, such as Emperor's New Groove, Lion King, Finding Nemo, etc. So... for something new, I say something like, "I really like Beauty and the Beast... because I practically am Belle." Unfortunately, this results in a creepy comment from Clifton: "Well, I'm Beast!" And Rachel, bless her, blurts out, "AWKWARD!" I give her an approving look, and the subject changes.

Well, there's this roommate of Clifton's (Jonathan) who is EXTREMELY quiet, but extremely nice and polite, and his family is Peruvian. I'm sitting next to him, and when we start talking about music I say I like full orchestral music especially (as well as practically everything else). We exchange a few words and next thing I know he is asking me on a date. Ooh... smooth, quiet man. Strike when the rest of the people there are completely ignoring you except for me. I think he's taking me to see some Minerva Teichart at the Museum of Art and then to dinner tomorrow. I can't be completely sure about what he was saying because he was so soft-spoken.

All of us play a few games (except for Jon, who decides instead to scour the kitchen and table clean instead). Jon lets me have all the leftover rice. Then we head home.

We get home, and upon informing my roommates of this date, they immediately turn into teasing mode. They decide instead of having a marital status board (which originally listed us all as single, but then morphed into sillier things... i.e. arranged marriage to mystery Tibetan man... then dumping the mystery Tibetan man for the cardboard man in Hillary's closet...), that we should have a date tally. They continue to tease me about having two dates in one week. Yes, two. I have another one. On Friday. With Ryan. Who happened to be the one that made my entire apartment brownies and left them at our doorstep. Yes, that was him. We are going to see pirates on Friday.

And this is slightly disturbing to me, because I've only been on one date before this, and I am not used to getting hit on. At all. It's like... whoa, guys like me? And I have more dates than any of the other girls already? Dang it. Staying single is going be a lot more difficult than I thought it was going to be. Especially since I just found out Jon is pretty much the only RM in our entire ward. Oops.