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

Happy 2009 to All.

I realize that I haven't written in an awfully long time. Apologies to everyone, or at least to the ones who enjoy these things. I suppose then that this will just be an general update dotted with stories... I'm afraid that not much of importance has happened.

So -- I guess I shall answer common questions from everyone. Dates, grades from last semester, job, new classes, and any other adventures. Okee. :D

For the question on my parents' minds, and probably the minds of most of my many adopted parents in Chandler -- no, no dates. I did get asked on two though, both of which I declined. Hm. Perhaps if I told you about these, then you might understand.

First, let me introduce you to Jacob Stark -- extremely intelligent, inquisitive, and armed with a whole quiver of skills. He is one of Shannon's good friends, so he visits sometimes. He is probably one of those people who I will never understand, and he freaks me out. I honestly can't describe him to you. Honestly. The best I can do is tell you is that his behavior is always in what we have dubbed the Stark Spectrum -- one end being ridiculously happy, cheery, extroverted, hyper, and friendly; the other end being creepy, morbid, dark, and just plain disturbing. I'm warning you now -- I'm only describing the creepy end of the spectrum. So, if at the end of this little storylet you think Jacob is a creep -- it's because he is sometimes, and that's all I've told you about.

Sometimes he gets this cannibalistic gleam in his eye, and sometimes when he has this look -- he'll bite me on the arm or shoulder. Heeeh... He's done it two or three times.

His conversation skills could use some work, I think. Once he walked up to me in church and said, "You know, when I see you, I think of drowning kittens." Then he proceeded to explain to me in morbid detail exactly how he would drown the kittens. I obviously couldn't see my own face at this point, but I do remember my eyebrows knitting together, my jaw dropping, and just giving him a general look of horror. My personal theory is that he just takes insane joy from seeing me horrified, because he doesn't say things like that to anyone else. But I'll never know. While I was still standing there with a stunned look on my face, Hillary exclaimed, "Jacob! That's HORRIBLE!"

He stopped for a moment -- then said. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I felt like I should to say something to you, Jenna, so I did."

"Drowning kittens? I remind you of drowning kittens?" I demanded.

"Well, no..."

Hillary then demanded that he pay me a compliment immediately. He told me I was beautiful today and left.

A few weeks later at church again, he walked up to me after sacrament meeting and abruptly asked, "If all your roommates were drowning, and you had to choose, would you go to dinner and a movie with me?"

I remember sitting in my seat with a stunned look on my face, and it took me a few seconds to process what he had just asked. "Is that an either/or question?" I asked disapprovingly, ignoring the little excited voice in my head that said, Ooh, free food! I love food!

He opened his mouth, closed it again, walked away, and, well... hasn't talked to me since.

I think I don't have to expand on why I didn't want to go on that date.

The other one... well, I'm bringing in an old character for this one. Remember Michael Smith? He's baaa-aaackk...

If you don't, let me refresh your memory. Rewind to spring term of last year. That guy that kept "asking" me on dates, or rather, planning dates with me and then telling me about them as if it was obvious I'd say yes. That guy who made soup and dumplings to lure me to his place when he found out I was sick -- and then once I was there, popped in a movie and then proceeded to squeeze himself closer and closer to me. I kept scooting away, and eventually had to jump up, declare intense feelings of illness, and leave. He did a lot of nice things for me too, but again, I'm only telling you about the parts I didn't like. He's not that bad, I promise.

I ran into him last Sunday. I walked out of the testing center, where we have church, saw two people about twenty meters away -- and then looked at them again because I thought I recognized one as Michael Smith. It was him. I have gotten in the habit of avoiding this man like the plague, but in this case it was too late to avoid him, because we made eye contact, and he exclaimed, "JENNA!"

"MICHAEL!" I yelled back. Well, I was on a spiritual high and felt on top of the world. Nothing could bother me right now. Not even scary guys I am normally terrified of. He had a girl with him, who he introduced to Hillary and I. A little hopeful voice inside of me said, Ooh! Maybe they're on a date! Maybe she's his girlfriend! He told me that he wanted to visit with some of his old friends in Monticello and that he might drop by later.

I mentioned that we were having a Break the Fast at White House North, and that much of the ward would be there. I mean, now that I look back at it, I suppose he might have interpreted it as, Ooh! She invited me to a party! Maybe she likes me!

Whoops...

So, the next day just before midnight, I check my phone to see that I had missed a call from Michael while I had been at FHE. Oh the terror that washed over me. In spite of it, I decided that I should at least pay him the respects of calling him back to see what it was he wanted. I resolved to call him in the morning.

He beat me to it -- wet, dripping, and fresh from a shower the next morning, I shut myself in my room only to find my phone blinking that little red light that means I've missed a call. How odd. No one ever calls me, let alone early in the morning. It was again from Michael, and he'd left a voicemail. In the message, he apologized for not coming to the Break the Fast, and that something had come up with one of his mission buddies. He said he wanted to catch up and left his number. Meh. I HATE calling people.

But... twice. He called me twice. I got ready for class, and then on the way up the hill, I called. I'm terrified of making phone calls, but somehow I succeeded in gathering up the courage to call somebody who scares me to death (be proud of me!). A huge wave of relief washed over me when I reached his voicemail. This means I can get out of having to call again.

Beep!

"Phone tag! You're it!" And with that I hung up. I hate making phone calls. However, I seem to have no problem whatsoever answering them.

Michael called back later that night and proceeded to "ask" if I wanted to go play racquetball.

"Michael," I said truthfully. "I can't do anything tonight. I'm doing homework!" I was also waiting for my home teachers to show up to give me blessing too, but I neglected to mention that, deeming it unnecessary information.

"Homework? Psh. You're still doing homework?" He tried to tell me that it was more important to go play with him than it was to finish my homework or to get enough sleep...

"No, Michael, I can't go tonight."

"Oh come on, you know you want to." And we were back to that game, just like last spring. Oh, if you were here, Michael, I would be this close to slapping your face.

"Michael, I'm doing homework. I'm extremely tired. And I'm expecting my home teachers to be here soon for a blessing. I can't go!"

And he finally let me go. Finally. I have a suspicion it was only because I mentioned that I was waiting for a blessing. I wish I hadn't mentioned that and had instead figured out some simpler way to forcefeed a "no" down his throat. You'd think it'd be enough to say, "I'm busy tonight," or "No." I really can't think of any more obvious way to say no than... well, "no." What more am I supposed to do?

Hm. That was a whole lot of story for a whole lot of no dates. Mleh! That's all right, I suppose. There's always this year!

And now we turn from my social life to my academic life. Which you may or may not care about.

Last semester's grades turned out pretty well. An A- average, ladies and gentlemen! I am so proud of these grades! You should be proud of them too.
A -- psychology, family history
A- -- New Testament, social dance, chemistry
B+ -- tap dance, physics, chemistry lab

This semester? I am SO excited. So. Excited. To qualify as a full time student here, you have to have at least 12 credits, and the most you are allowed to take is 18 credits. Most semesters I'm quite close to the 18 mark. Not the case for this semester! I am taking a mere 12.5 credits this time around. Be proud of me, all!

Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I don't think this semester will be any less difficult than before. Why you ask? Well... you see... here are my classes!

Neuro 205 (Neurobiology): 3 credits
Neuro 360 (Neuroanatomy): 2 credits
MMBio 240 (Molecular and Microbiology): 3 credits
MMBio 241 (Molecular and Microbiology Lab): 1 credit
Rel A 212 (The second half of the New Testament): 2 credits
Rel C 293 (US & Canada Family History): 1 credit
Dance 184 (Beginning International Standard Ballroom Dance): 0.5 credits

May I now express to you my very excitement? If you could see me, I'd be glowing! Radiating! Despite the early hour of my neuroscience classes, I find my insides dancing with joy when I go to them. They're going to be soooo hard. And soooo fun. Watch out world, here I come.

I know at least 80% have forgotten what I'm studying in the first place, so here's a refresher. I am a neuroscience major. And, as of tomorrow, I have three minors. Psychology, mathematics, and chemistry. I'm also planning on finishing all the pre-med requirements. It sounds like a lot, and I suppose it is, but the thing is, a lot of these requirements overlap each other.

With the neuroscience major requirements, I already have to take all the chemistry minor requirements except for one more... and well, since when did I not jump at the opportunity to take one more chemistry class? Excited? Yes. I am.

Psychology slid nicely into place too. One class also fulfilled a GE requirement, and I have to take four 500-level psychology classes for the neuroscience major anyway (Eeeeeee!!!)... add one more psychological statistics class (ooh, sounds fun) and voila! Jenna has a psych minor.

And the math minor... well... remember that I used to think I was going to major in math? I decided against that. I am two classes away from a math minor. Two! I might as well make all my joyous sufferings in math classes count for something. I love math... but I don't particularly enjoy math classes. So, if I ever decide to drop a minor, this'll be it. But I won't, because we all know that I'm as stubborn as a rampaging baseball bat.

And the pre-med... That's just in case I end up going to medical school, obviously. If I do that, I'm thinking I'll go into psychiatry. Where I'll go to med school - No. Idea. Haven't gotten that far yet.

What else do you people want to know?

Oh. I quit that blasted library job in which I worked till midnight. And... I am still on the job hunt. I wanted to work in the Central Chemistry Stockroom, but that fell through. My next and brightest idea is the Brick Oven Pizza that is practically across the street. And if that doesn't work out... I could do catering for BYU! 'Twould be grand adventures indeed.

Oh! And!

I discovered my nemesis.

His name is Alex Seegmiller. And he doesn't -- like -- hugs. Egad! Oh, how can this be? My personal theory is that he is the victim of a horrid shyness (I have heard him speak a grand total of thirty seven words in the entire semester I think) and hasn't been off his mission quite long enough... oh dear, that's a recipe for disaster. He hasn't quite gotten used to the idea that he can hug girls. Poor guy.

This is made so very much worse with the cruel irony that he is my FHE brother -- which means his phobia of hugs interferes with my absolute need to excitedly yell "BROTHER!!!!" upon sight and attack him with a massive hug every time I see him. He usually responds to this hug with massive surprise (I mean, come on, he hasn't come to expect it yet?) and instantly growing as stiff as a board. Sometimes he falls over. Now that is just bad hug etiquette. It is my personal goal to desensitize this poor chap. Heaven knows toleration of hugs will do him good in his future life. I mean, one day he'll be married! I could save his future marriage! :D

Okay, so I know it is quite unlikely that constantly assaulting him with hugs is going to solve anything. But you've got to admit, seeing that look of pure terror just before attacking him with a hug is great fun. I mean, he'll learn to enjoy it (we all hope for his sake anyway) because if I hold on long enough, his brain'll release endorphins and endorphins'll make him happy.

And I think I'm making progress! He chuckles nervously now instead of hyperventilating in the event of being hugged... and I could swear he doesn't stiffen up quite as much as he used to. And every once in a while, he hugs me back a little! Yes!

My other FHE brother (who is Alex's for-real brother and pretty good-looking, incidentally) is Dan. To think that he is related to Alex is unthinkable. I have the opposite problem with Dan -- during a hug, if you hang on too long, he starts stroking your head. Beware...!

We have some other FHE brothers, but I don't know them very well yet... One is Peter and one is Ivan. Peter is one of those guys that could easily blend into crowds and I can't ever find him to attack him. Plus he's new, so we thought we'd take mercy on him and refrain from attacking him for these first couple weeks. And Ivan... always missing.

We also have an entire apartment full of FHE sisters, which are in the ward directory, but we swear we've never seen them, except for Jenny, who is easy to find, because she's the only one in a wheelchair in the entire ward. And apparently there is another Jenna too. (Oh man. This is just asking for confusion.)

My calling for this semester in church is as a member of the Literacy Committee in the Relief Society. Oh heck yes... basically we get to teach a lesson every once in a while on pretty much anything. Possible topics: how to study the scriptures, study habits in school, family history skills, writing skills, how to write your personal history, computer skills, etc.

Speaking of writing, I send off lots of missionary letters. It is probably one of my most favorite things to do ever. I don't get too many back though. In fact, I fear little brother Clifton is dead. The only problem with that theory is that if he really were dead, his parents might have thought to post news of it on his little mission blog. Ryan isn't dead (but it is very hot in Australia). Alex isn't dead (but we weren't allowed to send him a Christmas package to Malaysia which we didn't think was fair). And, well, I don't think anyone is dead. I think everyone is alive and well...

So, I guess the whole point of this was to explain that I am alive and well. Which I am!

Love,
Jenna

Dodging Boys and Spinning Plates.

Have you ever seen one those variety show guys who spin plates? They go to catch one plate, and a plate on the other side starts to fall... so the plate-spinner runs over to catch that one... another falls... It's an amazing feat if the guy can keep all the plates spinning. I have come to connect with this poor guy. Constantly catching falling plates. It's like my life!

Anyway. Right now is the time where I attempt to juggle all my classes... all my papers... all my midterms... all my finals... all my dates... all my life...

Well, school is the boring part of my life right now. On to what might be considered interesting aspects of my life.

It seems I have become a victim of the attention of quite a few guys. I happen to not mind that Ryan likes me, because he's pretty much just as content as I am to just be friends... who happen to go on dates... every once in a while. Unfortunately, not all the guys around here conveniently don't want girlfriends before their missions like Ryan... take Will for instance. Will is one of those guys who is absolutely determined to get a girlfriend, and I seem to be his current target. Cue the sigh of despair.

I went on a date with him last Friday. Mostly I said yes because of what we were doing... Ok, so he got me at the words "Christmas concert"... The choirs and orchestras were spectacular, really. Especially those basses... Anyway.

Will certainly knows how to make a perfectly nice friendship go awkward. He gets depressed a lot... and then the first thing he thinks (and says aloud because he can't seem to differentiate between thought and the spoken word) is that he needs a girlfriend. And that his life would be magically wonderful if he had one. I always respond to this strange theory of his with hysterical laughter. Then I always make sure to tell him how ridiculous it is and lay down like concrete the fact that I don't have a boyfriend (and don't want one) and I'm perfectly happy. Sadly, this is the part where he tries to butt in, tell me I'm wrong, and that I'd probably enjoy having a boyfriend because he loves having a girlfriend. Ha. Ha. It was an amusing conversation the first time.

Will certainly knows how to make perfectly nice small talk awkward. At one point I informed him it was supposed to snow anywhere up to a foot the next weekend... he comments, with a rather sly note in his voice, that it's definitely cuddle weather... and that he didn't have anyone to cuddle with. Ugh. I respond with laughter (what else was I supposed to say?).

Will certainly knows how to make an innocent knock at the door scare the living daylights out of me. I was innocently cutting open a roll for a mini-sandwich when there came a particularly loud knock at the door. All of us ignore it... we don't really care who it is... we're pretty much stressed out of our minds... The mysterious visitor knocks again, this time more urgently and desperately. Jackie opens the door. From the kitchen, I hear Will's voice sounding off a rehearsed-sounding speech about how it's nearing finals and thus he is giving away free hugs and if anyone here wanted a hug.

Now see, I am pretty much famous in the ward for hugging everyone at the slightest excuse... I am well-known as the hug-lover. (In fact, as a silly side story, I was so tired the other day that I walked past my guy-friends Erik and Ryan without seeing them. Erik called out to me and asked if I was okay... I say I'm just tired, which was an understatement. Erik then asks if I'd like a hug... well, of course I did! I gave Erik a hug/ Erik gave me a hug while we were both walking, which proved difficult because he's so much taller than I am. It turned out to be the funniest hug I'd ever had. Immediately thereafter Ryan complains about not getting a hug, so I gave him a walk-hug too. Will was behind us somewhere watching...).

Back to the story, forgive me for the sidetrack. Well, Hillary bolts into the kitchen. I have told her all my suspicions about Will, and she pretty much... well, she feels sorry for me. She whispers to me urgently, "Jenna! We have to get you out of here!" She shoves me out into the twenty degree cold with knife and roll in hand without a sweater or jacket of any sort as I hear Will asking, "Is... is there... any one else here that needs a hug?" The door shuts and I am suddenly a very cold hobo with enough food for half a meal. I realize I have no keys either. I looked around at the snow... watched my breath for a while... watched the fog in the window... It was very uneventful. Then, Hillary suddenly pulled me back inside. We all looked at each other for a second... then Jackie and Hillary burst into laughter.

They launched into a narrative of Will's visit...they mentioned several times that he actually came into the apartment and looked into my bedroom to make sure I wasn't there. I wasn't sure I liked the drama that was happening, but I figure that's what I get for living with five other girls.

So, I'll be home late on Friday, December 21! I can't wait to see you all, and we should definitely hang out! :)