A Bishop's Challenge.

Ward prayer every Sunday night is usually rather uneventful... It's kind of like family prayer (since none our of individual families live on campus) except... larger. But... this time the Bishop got up in front of us all and started to speak.

"Uhh... well, this announcement is for the brethren, and I was going to say something in Elder's Quorum earlier... and I'm sorry, but I forgot!" Bishop Madsen then proceeded to scratch his head a little... He put his hand in his pockets. "Have I issued a challenge before?"

In unison almost, the ward answered, "No."

He chuckled a little, "Oh, I've been too nice."

The guys kind of looked around at each other nervously.

"Well, I'm going to issue a challenge to the brethren of our ward: that you each go on at least one date a week until the end of the semester!"

Noise erupted in the tiny lobby in which all 180 of us were packed into. Of the guys whose faces I could see, about half looked delighted... the other half looked terrified. All the girls I could see were celebrating loudly (as was I). My FHE son, Alex, looked as if he had just turned to stone. This was not just terror... this was absolute panic. I was standing next to Ian. He had his face buried in his hands. "Oh, no. Oh, no no no... I'm going to be broke... I can't do this... I'm doomed to be poor..." "Ian! You don't have to make yourself poor to go on dates!" Ryan, who was a little bit ahead of me, turned around and laughed, "Shall we tell them about the Madsen Recital Hall?" (There are free musical recitals practically every night at 7:30 there). He looked fine, since he already goes on anywhere from one to three dates a week anyway.

It was then time to say prayer, and we collectively got down on our knees for it. When we all opened our eyes again, I could see that the majority of the guys around had just lost a family member, and all the girls looked like they had just won the lottery or something grand.

I'm not sure if I imagined it or not, but I could have sworn that one of the guys was on the verge of hyperventilating or something as I was leaving... Many guys begged us for ideas on the spot.

Come Monday morning, we awoke to find a note all taped up on our doors, saying something like the following... "We need fun and inexpensive date ideas... please write some on the back of this paper and deposit in the main Shipp fireplace..." This seemed incredibly funny to us, since the anonymous writer(s) obviously wanted to not be found out. However, while they had bothered to type the note, it seemed that as an afterthought it might be a good idea to label which girl's room this paper would be returning from... So, written in clumsy handwriting was our address, "126 Robison"... My roommates joked about comparing handwritings to find out whose it was. I joked with them, but kept my mouth shut... (Let's just say I knew whose it was... and I'm sure you can guess whose it was as well...)

Within ten minutes, we had typed up a two-column page in ten-point font of really random date ideas, including: mud football, blindfolded cake decorating with spatulas, finger-painting except with toes, nightcrawler hunting, making Wanted posters of each other, dollar theatre, board game night, gerbil bathing (yeah... what is up with that?), ghosting, three-legged basketball, pirate ship balcony commandeering (group date), Irish dancing, ice-cream sculpting, hide-and-go-seek, dancing in random department stores, bowling in formal dress, coloring books and ice cream, etc.

We then printed it out, stapled it to the ridiculously tiny piece of paper our mystery friends had provided for us, and inconspicuously delivered it to the men's fireplace. Strange spot for a drop-off.

Well, none of us have been asked on dates yet, but it's only Tuesday. However, we have positively identified at least a few of the culprits. This morning the University Chorale got to sing in devotional. Will, Ryan, Dallin, and I are all in this group... So... we all headed down
to the Marriott Center for devotional. Ryan and Will, being guys of small stature, ended up near the front. However, Dallin (of large stature) and I (quite tall in heels) ended up in the very last row... next to each other.

Before the devotional started, Dallin called his grandparents to tell them to watch the devotional on BYUTV, since they would be home when it was showing. He also added that his roommates and he had build a mini-golf course in their lobby last night for dates tonight, and needed an extra putter.

"A mini-golf course! That's amazing!"

Dallin nods.

"No, it really it is! See, you guys don't need help coming up with ideas!"

Dallin blinked at me. "What makes you think that was us?"

... What makes me think what was... "Wait... what?" Oh. Aha... "Oh, that. No, no, no... most of the guys I've talked to since Sunday have complained about not being able to think of date ideas..."

Dallin realized too late that hadn't been what I was trying to say.

We fell silent. Then... "Was that you?" It would be nice to know for sure it was them... since, after all, I had recognized Ryan's handwriting... and Dallin and Ryan were roomies. But it would be nice for the guys to feel like it actually had been a secret.

Dallin had the most horrified look on his face... like he had just accidentally betrayed top secret information to the enemy during a time of war. "Uhhh... Never mind... Just... never mind..."

And then we sang. But Dallin seemed rather uncomfortable for the next hour. I think the poor guy was trying to figure out how he was going to explain to his roommates how the secret had leaked out.

Shrink Duty.

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

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

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

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

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

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No dinner?"

"Well, no..."

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

"Uhh... sure..."

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

"Do you know how to make spaghetti sauce?"

He blinked at me. "No..."

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

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

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

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

Getting Back in the Groove.

I am back! And, as far as I can tell, all is well. I haven't really got any exciting stories as of yet, but I can tell you about my classes... because, well... that's all that has been occupying my life lately, hehe.

I have a grand total of ten classes this semester, but overall it's an easier workload this time since it's a bunch of easy low-credit classes and a few difficult ones.

My first class is Calculus 2... which shouldn't be that bad since I already know the material, and I know the professor already. I have it every single day. Unfortunately, since I know the stuff that's being taught already, I have a teensy tendency to doze off in class... in the front row... midsentence or midsymbol in notes... right under Dr. Cardon's nose. I have tried various methods of staying awake in this class. Varying amounts of sleep the previous night seem to have no impact... high dosages of sugar usually get me through the first half... but by far, the best method is totally not paying attention to the lecture and thinking about something exciting. If I try to pay attention, sadly I shall inevitably fall asleep, and miraculously still have all the notes at the end of class. (Accurate and precise sleep-note-taking is a valuable skill.)

My next class is by far the hardest. Physics 220 is reputed to be the most difficult and most failed class on campus... after all, unlike mechanics and dynamics, the physics of electricity and magnetism isn't intuitive. Now add in the calculus to the difficult concepts, and we have a challenge. Which, quite frankly, I am deathly excited for. Jackie is also in this class with me. The trick to learning physics is simple. Study buddy. A study buddy whose bed is about fifteen meters from yours is even better. It also helps if she happens to be a physics major... like Jackie. The class itself has a few fun demos, but mostly we haven't done anything particularly exciting, not even real lectures. Apparently class time is for clarification rather than learning what the book says... well, that's all fine and dandy I suppose.

When I get out of physics, I dash like a madwoman to the HFAC for University Chorale. Yes, I got in. And yay! I'm a second alto. Such a thing thrills me! I haven't learned much yet. Most of the techniques so far I learned in elementary school choir, or in marching or symphonic band. And since I'm not terrible at sight reading music, this class is a fun break from an otherwise plain ol' stressful academic Monday, Wednesday, or Friday. Another added benefit in this class is that I happen to be among the taller altos, so I'm in the back, and can spy on my friends, like Marissa, Krista, Will, Ryan, and Dallin (in order of distance from me) from my perch near the top of the choir. Sweet, glorified pudding.

When I get out of choir, I run back to the building where I had physics for biology, which I also have with Jackie. I have yet to see if I will like this subject... so far we've only talked about critical thinking, and how to find reputable studies, and well... nothing biology-ish yet. I am actually quite proud of myself for not falling asleep in this class yet, since we haven't done anything particularly exciting.

My Book of Mormon class is amazing. I usually sit with Hillary and Ryan, and Brother Swift is engaging. He tends to go off on random, but appropriate, tangents all the time, which serve a multipurpose use. The first, I stay awake. The second, I pick up on "side note" principles that I hadn't noticed before. And since it happens to be my last class on Monday (an evil day if I may say so), I happen to enjoy more exquisitely the sound of the bell at the end of class, even if class was enjoyable. I mean, this is the time where my eyelids are starting to droop, and I'm hungry, and I can't possibly intake anymore academic material. Home, sweet home, here I come!

My first class on Tuesdays and Thursdays is social dance, which is basically... beginning ballroom dance. Although I was terrified that I would suck royally at this class, I have found myself to be among the better dancers. This, my friends, is quite thrilling. I know, I know, all we are learning so far is Foxtrot... but, the point is, I'm good at what I've learned so far. My marching band experience has given me a preface to the experience of learning smooth and continuous footwork, and a sense of rhythm. The only thing that I have to adjust... one of the ten commandments of marching band is, "Thou shalt not bounce when moving." Welcome to dance, where you're supposed to move up and down with your feet.

I also have an Isaiah class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I am SO excited for this one. As the sort of person who hates not understanding things, I figured I'd better shape up and at least develop the skills to understand Isaiah. That guy and I have some serious communication issues, but I'm sure he has some important things to say... so here goes! I sit in between Jon (my FHE husband, haha) and Angela (Clifton's girlfriend), so again, I have wondrous study buddies. Except I've learned that Jon is quite the chatterbox. It's just that he's never in a situation where he's heard (remember he talks so quietly I have to strain to understand him). All I know is that there's a continuous strain of Jon-commentary going throughout the class. He also snickers to himself a lot. It would be annoying if it weren't for.. well, okay. It is annoying. Quite. But the seats have been assigned and there's no moving away from Sir Jon the Mumbler.

My last class on those days is Irish dance... beginning level, of course. So far, this has been a tad bit more frustrating than social dance. The teacher for this one doesn't have as spiffy a set of teaching skills as my social dance teacher, so I'm struggling a little more to pick up the footwork from her. And, if most of the more agile class has figured it out, she moves on to a new, more complicated move. Oh dearie goodness me, though. I feel so lost sometimes in that class. But the great thing is... both Hillary and Rachel are also in this class, so we can have our own Irish dance practice in our lobby... slow-paced just for me. Usually they pick it up faster and are better at teaching me the moves.

The last class that has a scheduled time for is University Orchestra... yes, a full orchestra! I am quite literally squealing with delight at the thought of it. I'm playing bassoon, and the better thing is... we are playing some of my most favorite pieces, including Swan Lake, Carmen, Hungarian Dance, and the Unfinished Symphony. I am SO excited! It meets once a week in the the evening time, and although we don't start playing until tomorrow... well. Let's just say my heart is pounding out of my chest in anticipation.

My last class... is a joke. Genuinely. It is comparable to Chandler High's safety ed course. A joke. Same material minus the driver's ed portion... basic information about healthy living. It's even more of a joke since it's only offered online, and it's only half a credit. So... whatever.

That's my life at the moment, and I have to dash off to Irish dance in a few minutes, so I may write you some amazing stories later.