Get This!

So my grammar class is one of the funniest, most interesting classes I've ever taken.  Yeah, there are lots of boring parts, like diagraming, but I just ignore those aspects of it.  Anyway, we had a class on phonetics on Tuesday - which come to find out has always been one of my favorite topics, and I didn't even know it!  Bro. Hunt was going through the anatomy of the throat and mouth.  I thought it was really cool, and it made me a little giddy or hyper or whatever you want to call it.  Either way, I was probably having way too much fun in the class for me to be considered normal, even for an English major.  

Bro. Hunt said, "Let's all make the B-flat sound."  A girl near the piano hit a B-flat and we all om-ed together.  "The B-flat," he continued, "is the most commonly occurring sound in nature.  That is why Buddhists make that noise when they meditate."  I thought for a second, and being the somewhat corny wise-crack I can be sometimes, I said, "So the world really does want to B-flat."  

C'mon, you know it funny, and I do too, but I did not expect to get the reaction out of the class that I did.  Bro. Hunt gave a good chuckle and my friends who sit around me, but the rest of the class just erupted in laughter.  In fact, it made such an impression that on Wednesday I was in Craigo's, not working, but waiting to talk to someone, and a customer on her way out stopped and said, "Aren't you in my grammar class?"  I looked at her and said, "Sure," as I shrugged.  "You made the joke about B-flat, right?"  I smiled. "Oh yeah.  I guess I am."  She laughed again.  "I told that joke to my mom," and she made a gesture to one of the women that was with her.  

Wow.  I'm even funnier than I realized!

Halloween - FUPA Fighters!

Mike calls a person with a lot around the middle a FUPA Fighter.  FUPA stands for Fat Upper Pelvic Area.  I know, I know... it's weird.  So we decided to go as FUPA Fighters Bill and Barb Schwartzky.  (Those are our alias' we use on a regular basis, but now they have faces!)

Here are some pictures just in case you were wondering how they turned out.

Mike and me at his grandparents' house in Utah.

Barb and Bill at Comic Frenzy for Halloween.

Rhyme and Rhythm

So, I just got the email inviting me to read my poem Rhyme and Rhythm at the Pre-Professional conference coming up next week.  I submitted Rhyme and Rhythm along with two other poems, Insomnia (which is on here somewhere) and Psalm of Resolve - which I wrote in seminary years ago.  Rhyme and Rhythm was written in high school for a class.  I had to create an anthology of 30 poems - ten from the text, ten from outside sources, and ten of my own.  

Rhyme and Rhythm

Poetry from the heart

doesn't have to rhyme.

All it needs is an easy flow,

a little Rhythm to push it along.

But if you're uncomfortable 

With a free-verse ditty,

You can put in a word

To make it quite Witty.

Then again I know some people

who prefer not to rhyme.

They like the beat-nick Feel,

like the pound of a drum.

But others, I know,

Would like it much better

If the poem could Rhyme

With a word or a letter.

-February 5, 2003

Wish me luck!

Acoustic Cafe

This is my roommate Celeste and a good friend of mine, Trevor, performing at Acoustic Cafe here on campus. They're talking about maybe doing a Beetles song for Acoustic Cafe 2. They both have great voices, and they're lucky enough to sound exceptionally good together as well. I don't know if all of you know this song, but it was really popular in I think the early 90's. Well, actually, it's still really popular, but that's about when it came out.

Oh, I should warn you, it can be a little hard to watch. It was just filmed on Mike's little camera and his arms were getting tired of holding it up. So the pixels are pretty defined and it's a little shakey. (This is mostly for Dad's benefit. I know how he hates shakey home videos unless he filmed them himself.)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YLYy3j0vES8

"Linger" by The Cranberries

If you, if you could return
Don't let it burn, don't let it fade
I'm sure I'm not being rude
But it's just your attitude
It's tearing me apart
It's ruining everything
And I swore, I swore I would be true
And honey so did you
So why were you holding her hand
Is that the way we stand
Were you lying all the time
Was it just a game to you

Chorus
But I'm in so deep
You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger?

Oh, I thought the world of you
I thought nothing could go wrong
But I was wrong
I was wrong
If you, if you could get by
Trying not to lie
Things wouldn't be so confused
And I wouldn't feel so used
But you always really knew
I just wanna be with you

Chorus Twice

You know I'm such a fool for you
You got me wrapped around your finger
Do you have to let it linger?
Do you have to, do you have to
Do you have to let it linger?

"Waterfall"

Wow, it's been a while. School has really been taking it out of me! I haven't written in either of my journals for about a month probably. Don't worry. I'm back... at least for now!

So, I told Mum this story and she suggested I put it on here. So, yeah...

A couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the library studying my brain dry. Finally I decided that I was tired of alternating my stare between my books and the computer screen. I was hungry - it was about 7 and I had been there since right after Devotional, which got out a little before 3 - and my eyes were drying out. I closed my book, grabbed my wallet out of my backpack and left my studying supplies behind me as I took long, striding steps out of the library. Books, I love you, but there comes a time when I simply must do something.

I went to the Manwaring Center and stood at the counter of JoLynn's to get a bagel. I took it upstairs and ate it in the lounging areas of the MC. I stared at the pianos, wanting to play, but knowing that once I did, studying was pretty much done for the night. Eventually I decided that I had studied enough, and it was time to play. I walked over to the closest piano, passing a friend of mine from Russian. We said hi and had our pleasantries, and I left him to his studying. I sat down at the piano, stretched my fingers, and started to play "Jessica's Theme" from The Man from Snowy River. It was a good warm up, and after a couple of other songs I started the light tinkling beginning of "Waterfall" by John Schmidt. The song is very intense, and is a favorite among Latter-Day Saints. I usually save it for last 'cause it hurts my forearms.

As I came to the climax, a man walked up stairs and came to stand over by the piano, a little off to the side. I saw him, but he wasn't so close that he was distracting - that's just annoying. I hit the impressive G Major and lay my hands to rest. The man walked over and greeted me.

"Very good!"
"Thank you," I replied a little embarrassed.
"You know, that was my daughter's theme song. We could all tell when she was trying to release a little frustration because the house would shake with her playing. She's in college now. I was just walking out when I heard this song playing and had to come up and meet the pianist. I'm Elder Hammond of the Seventy." He offered his hand.
"Oh! I'm Mallory," I said, taking it. "Thank you very much. It's always nice to know someone appreciates my playing." He thanked me again, and turned to leave. Another man, a student, had followed him up the stairs and was respectfully waiting his turn to thank me as well, but got slightly distracted for a few minutes by the surprise of the Seventy. He ran up to him and offered his name and hand. He then turned to me and thanked me.

It's a cute little story. So there you have it.

Mal's Moments of Madness

So, I've finally started going back to the gym. Good grief, it's taken me long enough! I was amazing at it last Fall, I went at least three times a week with Angela. Then I went to Saipan for Christmas, and when I got back in January, I was down to three times a semester, and the occasional game of basketball. I've been meaning to get back, but it wasn't until last Sunday, when I showed them this ad in a magazine of mine.



"By the end of Fall semester, guys. Fall semester." Kenneth and Anton scoffed, as did Amber and Jamie, but Kyle said,
"Hey, if you can do that by the end of Fall, I'll do handstand push-ups. Those can be our goals."

Typical Kyle answer to something like that. I'm pretty sure he really thinks I can do anything. I mean, I'm fairly certain that I can actually do this - whether or not it's on a Pyrex 2-cup measure, we'll see when the time comes.


The following Monday I thought to myself, it's been a while since I've even attempted a handstand. I guess I should start out with that. Yeah... after four or five tries I finally got my legs up high enough and straight enough, and tight enough so that I was actually in a real handstand. It lasted for about 3 seconds.


This may be a little harder than I thought.


I've been doing handstands in my room every day since. I'm still not holding them much longer than 7 seconds. Not to mention in order to do the pose above I'm going to have to move slowly, which means there going to be some major expectations on just my upper-body strength alone. In all reality, I'll probably have to start in something like a headstand and push up into a handstand from there. (You can mount headstands slower, that's the perk. Con: I've tried it before, even back when I was a gymnast. If I can pull it off, I'll be the next Xena.) However I do it, it'll take some real figuring out and a whole lot of strength.


Anyway, so I decided that the best thing to do would be to start going back to the gym and doing some real workouts, not any of this dilly-dallying I've been doing since January. My arms, shoulders, and back are so sore. I've been running the track too. It'd be kind of nice to get my mile back down to 6 minutes, and I figured I might as well work on that while I'm being rediculous anyways. We can just clump it all in together in what I like to call, "The Fall of Amazing Feats."


Wish me luck.

Tuck's Pups?

Since I've lived with Melissa L. back in Maine in '05, I've wanted to own my own dog. Even if it was just a little one like hers. Unfortunately you can't own one in any BYU-I approved housing.

Today I was heading towards the mailboxes when I noticed this little guy walking around near the back building. At first I thouhgt it was a cat, which I wouldn't have been so worried about. (I like cats and all, but they seem more able to live on their own as strays that pups are, so I worry about them less. Besides, they almost seem to like it.) When I got closer I realized it was a puppy. Not just any puppy though, it was a black lab/hound mix. Labs have a special place in my heart. First of all, they're the cutest. Don't try to argue, lovers of other breeds. There's not chance you'll change my mind. But also, the first dog my family ever owned (that I can remember) was Tucker, a little black lab mutt, whose pure-bred mum got out and so the pups were too tarnished to sell for a high price. Tuck was the sweetest dog you'd have ever met!

I called to the pup, and he toddled on up to me, all friendly. Then Kim came out and ran after another that was headed into the parking lot.

"Are these yours?" I asked.

"No, they're my friend's." Out came another girl and explained that she volunteered at the shelter, and took the triplets out for the morning to play around. She said there was a little girl over by Kim's front door. I had to get some pictures! The boys had marking just like Tuck's, especially Bo.

Top: That's Bo, just hanging out. He was the calmest, but they were all sweet.

Right: I know it looks like I'm modeling, but really I'm just trying to focus on holding Bo right so that you can see his white.

Left: I've got JoLee, that's the girl, Kim's got Rascal, and Bo's just getting up. You can really see the hound in their ears, but they've got big, but the lab comes through in their eyes and their big webbed paws and smooth coats. JoLee had kind of coarse fur, but the boys had beautiful coats.

A Working Wonder

For those of you who don't know, I serve tables for work. I like to serve, actually, I like pretty much anything there is to do in a restaurant... almost anything at least. Serving is fun 'cause I get to do things for people. I like knowing people can rely on me, and with serving, they have no choice, even if I'm tired or just sucky! Haha! It's awesome!

Anyway, so I was serving, and had quite a few tables; it was busy, but not crazy - that's a good thing. When I get into a nice groove where the pace is perfect and everything is just working out beautifully, I can't help but be extra smiley. This wasn't one of those nights, but it wasn't bad. I was having fun, but I did have a couple of anxious tables.

I saw this couple, probably in their 40's, waiting at the pasta bar for a chef to come help them. (It doesn't have to be a chef, anyone can do it, and everyone knows how.) I saw them standing there for quite some time and as I walked by with some dishes, I promised I'd be back in a moment to help them. A second later I was there getting their pastas. The next time I went to my section I saw them at one of my tables. I didn't know anyone had been seated there. I felt bad. Sometimes when things start to get busy, the hostess will seat them and tell them to get started if they are getting the buffet and then forget to let the server know. (The server will find out anyway 'cause she's running to her section all the time, but the hostess will let us know if she has the time.) I thought that perhaps they had been there a long time and just got tired of waiting. I had a table right next to them that was fairly needy - which, by the way, is really annoying. If the server asks if they can get anything for you, let them know EVERYTHING you can think of all at once so that they can just get it in one foul swoop and stop running back and forth. That just wastes their time! *Heaving a sigh*

Anyway, I gave this table as much attention as I could, and it actually turned out to be just fine. The needy table left and so I could get the other tables everything they needed and wanted without delay. I must have turned out to be pretty good, 'cause the man from that couple left me a 30% tip and wrote on the bill, "You had shiny eyes!" Sweetest thing I've heard all summer. Course, the money doesn't hurt.

PARTY ON THE WEST COAST!

So, my roommate, Takara, was hurrying out the door to leave for Oregon. She had invited our other roommate Amber to go with her since she's from a little town in Oregon. Unfortunately she had to work, so it was looking like it would be just Takara until she got to Pocatello and met up with her friend and cousin. I was walking out with her, since I was going out to do something of no particular importance and she said, "Hey, why don't YOU come with me?!" I was like, "Yeah, sure. I'll find someone else to sing in church on Sunday, and call in a couple people to take my two shifts for the next couple days at work." She was all for it. In a couple of minutes, I had called the bishop for the service ward, the pianist, and the man I'm singing the duet with to reschedule for next Sunday; I had called the hostess at Craigo's and arranged for Dani to fill in for me both Friday and Saturday night (she was looking to pick up some shifts anyway); and had my bags packed, in the trunk, and was on my way to Pocatello to pick up these girls.














Hey, I've never been to the west coast.





We arrived at Takara's uncle's house in Portland around 5:30 Friday morning. We cleaned ourselves up a bit and headed out to breakfast with 'Uncle Louie.' When we got back a couple of us took a nap while the others went out and gallivanted. Then we all got back together and went shopping - a find of some ADORABLE red stilettos took me out $60, and from there I went drastically downhill. Really though, I didn't do as badly as I thought I had once I went through how much I spent. You see, there's really no place to get some good shopping done anywhere near Rexburg. Not even Idaho Falls. This was my one chance for any quality clothing for the next 6 months at least.

Besides, I've never been to the west coast.

We spent the night at Uncle Louie's - funny story by the way. He was having a hard time remembering my name, so he told the girls while they were sitting outside one of the stores waiting for me to finish up that I needed a nickname. He settled on Moe. Later Takara told me about it and I was like, "No kidding! That's been my nickname among my family since my cousin started calling me Malie-Moses when I was like 7." We thought that was pretty ironic.


Anyway, Saturday was spent at the street bazaar in downtown Portland. It was here that Takara figured out why everyone from Oregon is so freaking happy: the entire city of Portland smells like marijuana. I'm pretty sure it's soaked into the buildings. Heaven forbid one of them catch fire. The street market was a lot of fun. I found the coolest art booth! I'll put the link to his website on here later. Takara and I got our portraits drawn - I will also put that picture on here, since I'm sure there'll be requests for it. The only other thing I bought were these really cool coins. They're just a Maine state quarter and a silver dollar from 1922. But the man has jigsawed all the negative space out of them. They are the coolest things! I'm sure I'll find something to do with them. I'll take pictures of them as well. After the street market we went to Multnomah Falls. It's beautiful!





Saturday night, Takara, her friend Emily, and I went to Salem and spent the night in a cheap hotel. We drove Sunday morning to Lincoln City on the coast. What a pretty little coast town, and what a pretty drive! I would never want to live in Portland, it's kind of a dirty city, but the coast is beautiful. It made me rather homesick for Maine. Really the only difference is that since Maine's coast is so rocky, and the water is very deep right up to the land, we have lots of harbors that are right up against the towns. Oregon's coast is sandy and so there aren't as many harbors and coves and such. It was so nice to have trees and mountains all right up close. (I'm still trying to figure out how I landed in the ONE TOWN that lands right in between the Rocky Mountains and the Tetons. There's no water or trees for miles, and my campus is on the highest point in the area! Good grief.)

Anyway, enjoy the first few pictures I've got here. Like I said, I've got lots more to come!

You're a 90's kid if:

You've ever ended a sentence with the word "PSYCHE!"
You can sing the rap to "The Fresh Prince Of Bel Air"
You remember when Kurt Cobain, Tu Pac, River Phoenix, and Selena died.
You know that "WOAH" comes from Joey from "Blossom" and that "How Rude!" comes from Stephanie from "Full House"
You remember when it was actually worth getting up earlyon a Saturday to watch cartoons.
You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school.
"Goosebumps" were the books to be reading.
You know the profound meaning of "Wax on, wax off"
You have pondered why Smurfette was the only female smurf.
You took plastic cartoon lunch boxes to school.
You danced to "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls; Females: had a new motto, Males: got a whole lot gay-er. (so tell me what you want, what you really really want.)
You remember the craze, then the banning of slap bracelets and slam books.
You still get the urge to say "NOT" after (almost) every sentence...Not...
Where in the world is Carmen San Diego? was both a game and a TV game show.
Captain Planet. 'Nough said.
You remember when super nintendo's became popular - and you can beat every level on every game.
You remember watching home alone 1, 2 , and 3........and tried to pull the pranks on "intruders"
"I've fallen and I can't get up"
You remember going to the skating rink before there were inline skates
Two words... Trapper Keeper.
You never got injured on a Slip 'n' Slide
You wore socks over leggings scrunched down
You wore leggings with the strap that went under your foot.
"Miss Mary Mack, Mack, Mack, all dressed in black, black, black, with silver buttons, buttons, buttons, all down her back, back, back" SHE ASKED HER MOTHER MOTHER MOTHER FOR FIFTY CENTS CENTS CENTS TO SEE THE ELEPHANTS PHANTS PHANTS JUMP OVER THE FENCE THE FENCE THE FENCE he jumped so high high high he touched the sky sky sky and he didnt come back back back til the forth of july ly ly he jumped so low ow ow he stubbed his toe toe toe and thats the end end end of the elephants show show show
You remember boom boxes vs. cd players.
You remember New Kids on The Block when they were cool
You knew all the characters names and their life stories on "Saved By The Bell"
You played and/or collected "Pogs"
You had at least one Tamagotchi, GigaPet or Nano and brought it everywhere
You watched the original Care Bears, My Little Pony, and Ninja Turtles
NANCY DREW AND THE HARDY BOYS WERE THE BEST MYSTERY BOOKSY
Ikes pencils and erasers were the stuff!
All your school supplies were "Lisa Frank" brand. (pencils.notebooks.binders.etc.)
You remember when the new Beanie Babies were always sold out.
You used to wear those stick on earings, not only on your ears, but at the corners of your eyes.
You remember a time before the WB.
You've gotten creeped out by "Are You Afraid of the Dark?"
You know the Macarena by heart.
"Talk to the hand"
You thought Brain woud finally take over the world
You always said, "Then why don't you marry it!"
You remember when everyone went slinky crazy.
You remember when razor scooters were cool.

When we were younger:
Before the MySpace.com frenzy...
Before the Internet & text messaging...
Before Sidekicks & iPods...
Before MIKE JONES...
Before PlayStation2 or X-BOX......
Back when you put off the 5 hours of homework you had every night.
When light up sneakers were cool.
When you rented VHS tapes, not DVDs.
When gas was $0.95 a gallon & Caller ID was a new thing.
When we recorded stuff on VCRs & paid $3.50 for a movie.
When we called the radio station to request songs to hear off our walkmans.
When 2Pac and Biggie where alive.
When the Chicago Bulls were the best team ever.

Way back.
Tag.
Get Over Here!!!! means something to you.
Hide-n-Go Seek at dusk.
Red Light, Green Light.
Heads Up 7 Up.
Playing Kickball & Dodgeball until your porch light came on.
Hopskotch.
Slip-n-Slides.
Tree Houses.
Hula Hoops.
HELLO....HOT WHEELS!!!!!
"POWER OF LOVE" BY CELINE DION. ONLY COUPLES COULD SKATE TO THIS.
The annoying Giga Pets & Furbies.
Running through the sprinklers.
The "Little Mermaid"
Crying when Mufasa died in the Lion King.
Happy Meals where you chose a Barbie or a Hot Wheels car.
Getting the privelage to sit in the front seat of the car.
Drinking Sqeeze It "Squeeze The Fun Out Of It"
CAPRI SUN
Watching Saturday Morning Cartoons in your PJ's still wrapped up in your TMNT, Power Rangers, Barbie, or Fairy Princess comforter.
The original Power Rangers

Or what about:
Hey Arnold.
Rugrats.
Ren & Stimpy.
Rocco's Modern Life.
AAAHH!! REAL MONSTERS.
Wild & Crazy Kids.
Clarissa Explains it All.
CAMP NOWHERE - Salute Your Shorts (CAMP ANAWANA)
Are You Afraid of the Dark?
The original cast members of All That.
Kenan & Kel.
"CITY GUYS"...ROLLW/ THE CITY GUYS
Doug.
Magic School Bus.
Flash Forward.
Hey Dude.
Dinosaurs.
Alladin.
Mummies Alive!
Pinky and the Brain.
Gargoyles.
Sailor Moon.
Blossom.
Hangin with Mr. Cooper.
Beavis & ButtHead
Wishbone.
Bill Nye the Science Guy
MR RODGERS!!!!

Who could forget:
Snick? & Nick @ Nite with Bewitched, I Dream of Jenie, The Facts of Life, I Love Lucy, TGIF, and Happy Days. (Sunday, Monday, Happy Days!)
Where everyone wanted to be in love after watching The Wonder Years.
Kool-Aid was the drink of choice.
Kids under 16 were too busy climbing trees to have cell phones.
When $5 seemed like a million, & another dollar a miracle.
When you begged to go to McDonalds for dinner everyday.
When Toys R Us overuled the mall.

Go back to the time when:
Decisions were made by going 'eeny-meeny-miney-moe'.
Mistakes were corrected by simply exclaiming 'do over!
''Race issue' ment arguing about who ran the fastest.
Money issues were handled by whoever was banker in 'Monopoly.'
It wasn't odd to have two or three 'best' friends.
Being old referred to anyone over 20.
A chance to skate as a couple at the local roller rink was like winning the lottery.
Scrapes & bruises were kissed & made better.
It was a big deal to finally be tall enough to ride the 'big people' rides at the fair.
When Ninja Turtles ruled the world.
Another Baby Sitter Club and Little Sister (Karen) book came out and you put your name on hold for it at the library.
When Aladdin was new, before the trilogy was complete.
Sockem Boppers
Before we realized all this would eventually disappear
Who would have thought you'd miss the 90's so much!!!!!

From the group "You grew up in the 90's if you remember this" on Facebook.com.

Read This to Your Boys!!

Okay, so, last May there was a prance (prom/dance) held in the Saipan Branch cultural hall. Let me tell you the story real quick and I'll get on to why it's a little annoying to me.

So, the youth wanted an LDS-standards formal dance; so they set up a prom committee. They were not using Church funds, which meant the kids would have to buy the tickets themselves in order to pay for the dance. They reserved a room in one of the hotels, and started making plans. Tickets cost somewhere around $25. (I know. It's ridiculously cheap. In fact, thinking about the rest of the story makes me almost sick because of the cheapness of these tickets. Couple's tickets for my senior prom were $60.) Boys started picking out girls, and far more importantly girls started picking out dresses.

A few months into this whole affair, and they almost had to cancel it all. The tickets weren't selling. TWENTY-FIVE DOLLARS and they weren't selling! You can make that much in a day, without a steady job, even in Saipan. The committee quickly decided that the only way to save the dance was to move it to the cultural hall in the church building. Not the most elegant of places, but they could spruce it up. The boys confirmed their dates and the dance turned out to be a success.

So here's what gets to me: the utter tackiness and lack of appreciation boys EVERYWHERE show for the girls they seem so keen on dating. Do these guys realize how much an event like this costs for a girl, or do they really just not care enough to spend a little cash? My gown was right around $100, and I still had to get it altered. I didn't even buy the shoes I really wanted 'cause they were another $60, so I just settled on a black, rinestone-encrusted pair of highheels from Payless for about $25. There's jewlery, which they have to buy to match the dress, which I've heard of going anywhere from $15-$90 for a prom. Then there's the hair, which takes time and for most girls, another $20-$40. If they also have their makeup done for them, which probably about half of the girls in the world do for prom and other very formal events, that's another $20-$60. That brings the total to between $160 (saying they get the cheap shoes) and $290, if they do their own makeup.

Renting a tux can cost anywhere from $45 to $90. But boys in high school - nix that, boys in general - are obviously not too concerned with how nice the tuxedo is, and will get the cheapest one they can find, unless they can get by in a nice suit and tie. They cough up $15-$30 for a corsage and call it an evening! So, they spend AT MOST for a prom, including a $60 ticket (which is a little high for a lot of schools), $180. That's at the very most.

This isn't even all of it. I have had boys come to pick me up for a date in Burmuda shorts and a questionably clean tee-shirt. If we were very close friends I would accept something like this for a picnic on the beach, or a hike or a bonfire. (Actually, no, the tee shirt would definitely have to be clean for any of these.) These were guys trying to make first impressions, or trying to plan something really romantic. Men have escorted me to dances or church in wrinkled khakis, or poorly knotted ties. What is it with guys?! If I ever bring it up, his excuse is, "Well, I'm paying for the date." (Guys, this line is so tacky and rude that after saying it you can be pretty sure you will never date that girl again.) Or if it's free, it's something like, "It doesn't really matter. It's not a formal thing." Excuse me, but if you're going anywhere alone it should at least matter, but if you're going to be with me, or anyone else that has put any effort AT ALL into their attire, the least you can do is think it out a little. I'm not saying you should be entirely wrapped up in vainity, but just have the courtesy of putting a little thought into it.

And no, being a friend I date regularly or my boyfriend, or even my husband does not mean you can start dressing shabby on our dates. I dress nicely 'cause I want people to be able to look at us and think, "Man, that guy is lucky! Look at the chic on his arm!" (Whether anyone actually thinks that or not in my case is irrelavent.) Why can't the guy have enough courtesy to dress well enough for the girls around us to think, "Mmm-hmm! Look at that FINE piece of eye-candy! That girl knows how to pick her accessories!"

Anyway, that's my pet peeve for now. I hope you read this boys, so it'll start to sink in. I know the majority or you think that you are perhaps too old to save, but I have faith in anyone under the age of 50. Mothers, get your boys started young.

Pictures from the Saipan Prance can be found on my mum's blog. www.thethinks.blogspot.com.

Fireworks and Waterballoons!

So for the Fourth of July a bunch of us went up to R mountain. (I've seen good fireworks from mountains before, but R mountain is so far away that it doesn't really give you the effect you're looking for. I wont make the same mistake next year.) Anyway, so, we went up there, and watched some of the firework shows put on by different towns and counties. You could kind of see Idaho Falls' from where we were, but it would've been better had we been farther up. You just have to keep in mind it was pretty dark and there's not really too much of a path in lots and lots of places, so we decided to stay where we were. We shot some fireworks off ourselves on the tiny plateau we were on. Not the most brilliant idea, but they weren't anything big, so nothing happened ... at least nothing we started. There was a fire down below us that some other hoodlums started. Foolish kids. What kind of an idiot doesn't realize that fire around dry brush is dangerous?! Once we realized that they didn't quite have it under control, two boys rushed down to help and the rest helped us girls get off the top of the plateau. By the time we got down there our boys had it pretty well contained. The other kids had climbed up away from the fire and called the fire department. One of our guys looked at them and was like, "well, is that all you're going to do?" He rushed in and started pulling the branches away from one another and away from other bushes. (Two had lit.) As we drove away, we saw the trucks rush past us. Stupid kids.



The rest of the pictures are from out ward's closing social! We had a catered Dutch oven barbeque - it was soooo good - and a huge waterballoon fight, including Bishop Walker and Brother Wright (the first counselor). Afterwards there was a big game of ultimate frisbee. (It's a fun game, but quite frankly, people have become obsessed.) We also had kickballs, a soccerball, a baseball and some gloves, a hose, a football, and a tug-of-war rope just in case anyone was interested. Most were used, but the others were there just in case anyone wanted to start something.



We had hundreds and hundreds of waterballoons. They came in packs of 250 I think, and we had like, 6 packs. We had three or four bins filled with them. They were really heavy. Plus, there was a hose was involved. The kid in the white shirt is Jon, and the girl in the blue shirt all hunched over happens to be me trying to defend myself. Don't worry, I got him back.

Here's a good picture of the fray. It was crazy! Everyone was in on it here, until we ran out of balloons. Then those of us who knew where the last bin was, ran to the other end of the field and got in a big fight there too. That's when Bishop and Bro. Wright joined in. It was pretty fun. I was the first to throw at Bishop, but it didn't pop.

That was frustrating!

Summer Fun in Rexburg!

Pictures from this summer here in Rexburg. It's a small town, but we seem to have plenty of fun!

The view from Birch Creek, where Josh, Ang and I went overnight fly fishing. It was a lot of fun! This is only the second piece of real pretty land I've seen this close to Rexburg. Pocatello is pretty, but it takes a couple hours to get there. Rexburg just isn't very pretty. It's fairly flat, the mountains are far off, and there's not enough greenery to make up for it's lack of rolls. This spot is about an hour away.

(Below): This is from our Egin's Lake activity. Out in the sand dunes there's this waist-deep pond really, where they really like to go play football. Anton J. is the big guy, and before his mission had a scholarship to play football for a college in, I think, California. He gave it up to come up to BYU-Idaho, where there's not even competitive sports. The smaller guy is the Elder's Quarm Pres., Matt B.

So, basically I've decided that this picture is good enough to start making me some money. Maybe I'll send it in to Sports Illustrated.

Me teaching the girls in my Relief Society to dance Tahitian. They asked me for a mini-enrichment night. The other half of the night was for Latin dancing, taught by Jessica H.

Here's Ang, Josh, and me hanging out by the creek. Josh lost both his and Ang's flies, so we decided we would just hang out for an hour or so, since everyone else was strung out along the brook still fishing.

The Battle of Saipan

Jym was talking to me last night and said that he was looking at a brochure for one of the cruise-routs done by Princess Tours (that's who he works for) and said that he saw a picture of Saipan that showed a tank in the water. "What's up with that?" he asked. I thought I had told him about the battles of Saipan and Tinian, but I forget who I have and haven't told. Jym really likes history, so I told him I'd look for some articles and pictures and email them to him. I made up quite the nice little package. He's busy, so I couldn't have a million articles and pictures (there are at least that many on the web), but I did put in three articles that describe a few different parts of the significance of Saipan in American history.

The Last Command Post: Here it was that Lt. Gen. Saito (Japan) ordered seven officers

to give their lives in the name of the emperor, and then committed herikari - ritualistic

Japanese suicide. (Top: outside. Bottom: inside.)

Obiyan Beach bunker.

Top-Bottom: Banzai and Suicide Cliffs. These were the sites where Japanese soldiers and civilians were forced to jump over. (If they wouldn't they were thrown.) It was better to die than to be captured by the Americans.

The following is an article of the mass-suicides at Banzai and Suicide Cliffs. It's a little graphic, so use some discretion.

"... since Saipan had become a part of Hirohito's domain in 1919, over eighteen thousand Japanese civilians had settled there. Tojo's propaganda officers had been lecturing them since Pearl Harbor, describing the Americans as sadistic, redheaded, hairy monsters who committed unspeakable atrocities before putting all Nipponese, including women and infants, to the sword. As the battle turned against Saito's troops, these civilians, panicking, had fled northward to Marpi Point. After the great banzai obliterated their army, depriving them of their protectors, they decided that they, too, must die. Most of them gathered on two heights now called Banzai Cliff, an eighty-foot bluff overlooking the water, and, just inland from there. Suicide Cliff, which soars one thousand feet above clumps of jagged rocks.... Saito [the Japanese commander] had left a last message to his civilian countrymen, too: "As it says in the Senjinkum [Ethics], 'I will never suffer the disgrace of being taken alive,' and I will offer up the courage of my soul and calmly rejoice in living by the eternal principle." In a final, cruel twist of the knife he reminded mothers of the oyaku-shinju (the parents-children death pact). Mothers, fathers, daughters, sons� all had to die. Therefore children were encouraged to form circles and toss live grenades from hand to hand until they exploded. Their parents dashed babies' brains out on limestone slabs and then, clutching the tiny corpses, shouted "Tenno! Haiki! Banzai!" (Long live the Emperor!) as they jumped off the brinks of the cliffs and soared downward. Below Banzai Cliff U.S. destroyers trying to rescue those who had survived the plunge found they could not steer among so many bodies; human flesh was jamming their screws. .. . But Suicide Cliff was worse. A brief strip of jerky newsreel footage, preserved in an island museum, shows a distraught mother, her baby in her arms, darting back and forth along the edge of the precipice, trying to make up her mind. Finally she leaps, she and her child joining the ghastly carnage below. There were no survivors at the base of Suicide Cliff."

There are two more articles. Maybe I'll put them on later.

Recipes

I've decided to start a blog of recipes. I keep a little notebook of recipes I gather from family, friends, work, and around. I tweak some of them. I finally realized that I have quite a few in there. Plus, Mum and Lindsey post recipes sometimes. I thought this would be a great way for us to share our favorites! It's open to anybody, friend or stranger!

www.cookingstorms.blogspot.com

Check it out!

Piercings! WOO! TAKE YOU'RE SHIRT OFF!

Calm down! Nothing weird, just a lower-rib piercing. They are so the thing right now!

Seriously though, today I went with my my closest friends, Melissa, Andrea, Angela, and Josh, to the mall. (Funny story: Josh asked me a few days before if he was allowed to come. I was like, Josh, where else would you be on such an important occasion!? Then when we got there, we were shopping a little bit, and Andrea came out of the dressing room. We all gave our input on her shirt, and then she looked Josh straight in the face and asked, "Do you think my cheeks look puffy?" He slowly turned away and said, "I do think I need some more guy friends." Ha!)

Anyway, here are some pictures!

Picking out studs! (When applied to things other than earrings, it is quite the sport.)



Half-way there! Andrea was pretty impressed, I didn't flinch. What can I say? I'm pretty amazing.




Okay, it just occurred to me that I don't have any pictures of the finished product. They're probably on Angela's camera. But you get the idea.

Utah - Memorial Day Trip

Here's me in Melissa's car, playing with Melissa's new phone, on our way to go scouting for our shopping trip to the Gateway Mall we were planning for Monday (Memorial Day). This was Saturday. I just got back. Maybe I'll put more pictures on here later. Oh, and Mum, I know I'm making the lip face thing. I'm meaning to. It's a pose.

Conversion to More than the Gospel

I just got back from a ward FHE about being thankful. President Christiansen and his wife asked that we focus on the thanks we feel for others and experiences. After they spoke they asked that we share any thanks we felt for others or for experiences in our lives. I couldn't really think of one that involved others. After hearing a couple of other people share theirs, I thought of a great one! (The following is the extended version of what I shared.)

I was 19, had been away from home for a over a year, and had finished my first semester of school. I was back in Maine working for the summer at Jordan Pond House Restaurant & Gift Shop. My schedule was beyond hectic, bringing in over 66 crazy hours a week, which gave me only Sundays and late nights to keep for myself. I lived in the dorms provided by the company, which sat about 2 minutes away from the restaurant, walking ... slowly. I looked forward to Sunday when I would be able to relax and hang out with friends that I didn't work, eat, or sleep with. I was the second counselor in the Primary, and was put in charge of sharing time. It was a lot of fun, but required a lot of enthusiasm. Those late nights to myself were often spent at least partially in coming up with some lesson/activity that would keep the more energetic portion of the church's membership entertained.

I had never been visit taught. I had been an active member of the Relief Society in three different wards by this time, Saipan, Ellsworth, and the BYU-I 62nd ward. In Saipan they just never gave me anyone to teach or to teach me. In BYU-I, they gave me people, and I would spend the whole first half of each month seeking out my companion and we would finally get together with our girls and teach them, but I only remember being taught maybe once, and it wasn't a private meeting like it's supposed to be, but rather it was my roommate and I (who shared visiting teachers) thrown in together. In Maine, my first summer, although I had asked for a companion I never received one, nor was I taught. My second summer, I asked again, and finally in August I got teachers - no companion, but I did get teachers.

The whole ward knows my family, and of all the kids they probably know me the best. I always figured that the reason I never got home- or visit-taught in Maine was because of two reasons. First of all, I was fine. Everyone knew that I had a testimony, no major problems, and that overall I was a cheerful, active young woman with an extremely busy schedule. The second reason was because I was just so freaking far away from everything. When I say I lived in the woods, that is exactly what I mean. By August, I had moved into the nearest town, Seal Harbor, with a friend's family. They weren't LDS, and neither was anyone else in the village. The closest members were probably 20 - 30 minutes away, and that was if - if the traffic wasn't bad. (I lived on a scenic drive, so it was pretty much always busy with buses, bikers, and tourists who insisted on driving slower than death in order to watch anything from blowing leaves to pesky sea gulls.)

One Sunday, as I was getting ready to leave church with my friend/chauffeur, Carol B. and Anne D. ran up to me.
Carol: "Mallory, Anne and I are your visiting teachers. We were wondering if there was any time that we could come by the dorms and teach you?"
Me, a little surprised: "Uhh, yeah. Yeah, sure! I don't work Sundays at all, or Mondays before 2. Anytime then would be fine with me."
Carol: "OKay, how about we come by next week on Monday?"
Me: "Yeah, that'd be great!" I was shocked! A little surprised, and a little less than faithful that they would actually pull through with it. Anne and Carol are both amazing women, but they are both very busy. Carol is a mother with a daughter very active in her extra-curricular activities still at home. She is also a grandmother. Anne has two boys still at home and two more home for the summer. She and her husband have a small house in Bar Harbor that they let out for tourists in the summer, and have to clean every couple of weeks in order to ready it for the new tenants. I had complete faith in their intentions, but not so much in their capability to find time nor energy to come all the way out to my dorm.

Sure enough, Monday rolled around and they called.
Carol: "Mallory, we actually can't come today. Is there any way that we could come tomorrow? I know you work all day, but we only need 10 minutes."
I had a break between working at the gift shop in the morning and working in the kitchen night shift. It was only about two hours, sometimes less depending on how much prep I had to get done for dinner. I usually spent this time trying to catch up on my already much-deprived sleep schedule in one of the beds upstairs on the girl's floor.
Me: "Yeah, if you want to come about twelve tomorrow, I'm sure it'd work out fine."
Again, I didn't expect them to be able to show. Still, I sat out in the sun reading a book, keeping an eye open for them, just in case.

I was kind of dosing off when I heard a car pull up in the parking lot. Out climbed Carol and Anne. We went inside and had a short meeting upstairs in one of the rooms, away from the few co-workers that were spending their day-off lounging around the dorm. I don't remember what the message was, but I do remember what must have been most important for me to know. Those two sisters helped me to gain a testimony of visiting teaching that I have since taken a little for granted. In fact, it wasn't until last night that I finally realized that it was that meeting that marked my conversion to Relief Society.

Visiting teaching is not for the infirm, the unfaithful, nor the unknown sisters of the church. Rather it is for any and all sisters. I was not going through a rough time spiritually, and there was nothing their visit could have done for me that would have helped me in any physical way. When they left I did not feel immediately closer to either of the women, and in fact barely had time to think on them at all since I had to hurry over to work. Now though I realize just how thankful I am to them for helping me to gain that testimony of RS and of the relationship the women in the church not only should have, but can have. Neither of these women were remotely my age, and aside from knowing each other rather well, we didn't share too much in common. Yet they still made time in their schedules to come and look in on a girl who not only gave the appearance of being fine, but who really was. That is sisterly love.

The Decision

I'm staying with English Ed. I've tried for over a month now to give it up, and I can't actually go through with it. It's an addiction. Thanks for the input everyone.

A Major Dilemma

Okay, so I've been thinking of changing my major, yet again, but am finding it almost impossible to let go of my current one. I've decided on weighing the pros and cons to each, and taking any input. Let's begin, shall we?

English Ed. (Current Major):
Pros: *I am already in this major and have started on some of my major courses.
*I would love to teach, especially between middle and high school.
*I love the history, imagination, and meanings found in literature.
*I love that prose and poetry are left up to the interpretation of the reader.
*I love to study about authors.
*I could take classes in journalism, and would not only be taught to do it, but would be qualified to teach it with just 20 credits.
*I've only ever had one English teacher I didn't like, well two, if you can consider Mrs. Dunbar-Kari a teacher.
*My philosophy is that if a student has a solid understanding of their language, all other subjects come more easily, even subjects such as math, that don't seem to have any link to language, but in reality are impressively affected by it. To teach remedial English would not be the most fun part of the teaching occupation, but I do think it would end up being one of the most satisfying.

Cons: *If I did go into teaching, which is most likely to happen, I would have to stop once I started having kids. (This is not up for debate, it's a personal decision.)
*I feel that it does, in some ways, confine or at least obligate me to be a teacher. (Look, it's a noble thing, but so is being able to feed, clothe, and shelter myself!)
*Although I love to read, I tend to be slow. Keeping up in class-assigned readings have always been difficult for me, and I can see those classes taking a lot out of me.

Communications, Emphasizing in Journalism (Major up for Consideration):
Pros: *I would love to write for magazines like Discover! or National Geographic. That would be freaking awesome!
*Freelance journalism would be easily workable from home, even after having children.
*Where I fall short in reading, writing comes naturally. I can (and have) research, write, edit, and cite a paper on almost any topic in four hours and still pull off nothing short of a B+.
*I absolutely love writing research papers. They're my favorites!
*I think that doing investigative journalism for, oh, I dunno, like The New York Times would be a lot of fun.

Cons: *The few education credits would not transfer over, and I would almost certainly end up having to apply for a credit extension and I would have to stay in school longer.
*I would have to, especially at the beginning of my career, cover the topics that no one wants to cover. (i.e., obituaries, etc.)
*I wouldn't be teaching, and that would kind of suck.
*I might not get to take classes on the literature side of it all.

Now, changing my minor is not an option at this point. I want to keep it Russian. I could look into double minoring, but that'd be hard with an education major. They are pretty adamant about making sure everyone who majors in education also minors in some field of it.

Catching Everyone Up - Picture Wise at Least

Okay, here are some of the pictures I have been meaning to post over the last couple of weeks. They cover from our crepe party, which was the last week of winter semester, to the day I got back from Houston.

Here's Ang, enjoying a crepe filled with, I think, apples, strawberries, and a little whipped cream.

Me making bunny cake! I had to get it decorated before we left to Bro. Wright's place for dinner.

Kyle named it Derryl. It's some inside joke the boys have, but I am totally out of the loop here. I haven't a clue as to what they're talking about.

This is what you get when the ratio of men to women is 3 to 1. Easter dinner hadn't started, so they ate Pizza Bites or whatever they're called. Jym and Kyle were done, Josh had some left - you get the picture.

Jym and me down in Houston. It was a relatively cold day, so I borrowed his brother's jacket, which, come to find out, is actually a girls jacket anyway. It's not that great a picture of me, personally, but Jym looks good, and I know he's the one everyone wants to see anyway, so there you have it.

This is Josh and me in Angela's new apartment over in Nauvoo House. They're right across the street from where I live. This is the night I got back, I think.

Things I Love

Mum and Dad.
Levi.
Alexa.
Sam.
Jacob.
Kaitlyn.
Ezra.
Eden.
My family all over the world.
Music, singing is so much fun. But probably most especially piano music. I love it. I love everything about it.
Sports, especially gymnastics, basketball, baseball, and hockey. But there are so many others!
Hanging out with my roommies.
Hanging out with my friends.
Hide and go seek in the dark.
Maine, especially MDI, particularly during summer, fall, and winter - not so much during mud.
The ocean, rivers, streams, brooks, lakes, ponds, etc.
Snow, especially when I can play in it, or if there are soft and silent woods I can walk around through after they've been covered in snow.
Pounding rain when I'm inside, and can hear it and see it pounding through the window in the living room, as I drink something warm. (Watching my roommates venture out into it one-by-one for meetings and classes, when I don't have any, is just an added perk.)
Animals. Playing with them. Acting as one. What?! Me?!
The sky. It's a pretty amazing creation. The moon. The sun. Clouds.
Thunderstorms.
Books. There are some really amazing ideas out there, and so many of them are written down just for us to read.
Pictures.
Cookies. They're my weakness, and that's okay with me.
Certain T.V. shows: Seinfeld and The Office, and House.
The human body - another baffling creation. I mean, I think about it, and then I have to stop, 'cause my head starts hurting. It's awful. It's crazy.

Insomnia

I hate it when I can't sleep. My sleeping patterns have been so off lately, just 'cause of travel, not having any school, and things like that. I didn't nod off until almost 5! (Then I slept through my alarm clock and thus through Sacrament meeting... I had to go to another one later. It was lame.) Anyway, I did a couple things to bide my time. First, I read out of my book, The Long Walk, The True Story of a Trek to Freedom, by Slavomir Rawicz. It's excellent. I read a really good quote about humor. Here it is:

"The men I most admired were the jokers. They saved us often in our blackest moments. There were maybe four or five of them in our lot. They would joke about anything. Their quips were frequently macabre ... They were irrepressible. Nothing stopped them. I bless their memory for the gusty belly laughs they gave us..."

Later, at about 4, when it was quite clear that I wouldn't be falling asleep at any reasonable time, I pulled out my little green book I keep poems in. I jotted down my frustration:

Can't Sleep

Darkness fills the world outside,
Sharing the space with Silence.
In the walls of my home is where I hide
Writing down a late-night cadence.

Cool air sneaks past my drawn blinds
Calming my too-hot bedroom.
My Spirit finds peace, but not my Mind;
Thoughts do thrive in quiet gloom.

I wish only for a restful sleep,
Without another thought-fit,
Into which I can fall deep
Before the morning light hits.

Boring Books

In response to Lindsey's latest post, asking the question whether or not there are certain books I feel pressure to enjoy because they are considered "classics" or because they are "best-sellers" but simply can't find it in myself to read:

I, too, find it difficult to get into A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. I started it, got a couple of chapters in, and just couldn't keep it going. It's so boring - at least in the beginning it is, and that's the part that needs to capture you. I figured if it started out this boring, it simply didn't deserve all the hype it received, and set it aside, never to pick it up again.

Out of the Dust, by Karen Hesse. I started it in the fifth grade. Having read and liked some of Hesse's previous writings, and this particular book being on the recommended reading list for my grade - it was an award-winning book - I totally expected to enjoy it thoroughly. Ya know, I give books a pretty good run before I'll set them down. (I also have a rule that if I'm at least three-quarters of my way through the book, it has to turn pretty far down hill for me to not finish it.) I was probably a good third of my way through, when it just became too dry for me to finish. It was dusty alright, but nothing good was coming from it. I have since thought that perhaps I would pick it back up, but every time I see it in a library, I just find myself not attracted in the least sense of the word.

Crime and Punishment, by Fyodor Dostoevsky. I attribute this mainly to my lack of understanding. I started this book I think my freshman year of high school - it might have been 8th grade - and that's a pretty young age for anyone, even a well-read person like myself, to be delving into the dark and obviously troubled mind of Dostoevsky. If there's one thing I know about Eastern Europeans, it's that they don't do anything without a severe amount of passion; everything from their drinking to their writing is done with every fiber of their being. (The one excuse may be made for a few certain co-workers of mine, who felt that work required no passion, and therefore they got minimal hours.) I felt bad for setting this book down, but it was just too much for me. Maybe I'll give it another try - I'll probably have to for school some time soon anyway. My critiquing will be more accurate then.

The Lord of the Rings Trilogy, by J.R.R. Tolkien. Okay, these books are honestly, amazing. The highly detailed imagination that went into creating the world of Middle Earth, the creatures within it, and the languages that were involved is, in a word, baffling. They even include my all-time favorite, most-beloved character in all of literature, aside from Christ, Samwise Gamgee. But, unless you are big into literature, particularly of that time, or are interested in analyzing writing styles of early-1900's authors (call me weird, I like that stuff), than really I don't see any reason for you to read these books. Tolkien, as excellent a writer as he is, does tend to draw things out a little too long. This makes certain chapters long and dry. And although I don't normally suggest movies in place of books, I make this the exception. Peter Jackson followed the books very carefully, and quite frankly, the story is easier to watch than to read. You get the same feeling for the characters as you do from the books (the casting job was phenomenal), and the message, albeit not intended by Tolkien, is still there.

An Eden Moment

The following takes place between the hours of 2 am and 4 am on a January morning in Saipan:

Kaitlyn: "Mal, can I sleep with you? I think Eden wet the bed."
Mal: "Yeah, sure. Did you wake her up?"
Kaitlyn: "Yeah, Alexa's helping her." Climbs into bed with me.

A few minutes later...

Eden: "Mallory, can I sleep with you guys?"
Mal: "Are you cleaned up?"
Eden: "Yes."
Mal: "Of course."

About an hour goes by with all of us girls on a full-size air mattress in the family room, keeping Alexa awake all night due to our incescent noise-making. Finally, possibly the funniest part of the whole night happened after Eden had drooled a little from laughing too hard.

Mal: "Eden, are you licking me again?" ("Again" refers to an earlier time that night when Eden thought it was hillariously funny that she was licking my shoulder. I promtly put her on the other side of Kaitlyn, but somehow she ended up back beside me.)
Eden: "No."
Mal: "Oh, okay. Good."
Eden: Entirely serious. "I am wiping the rest of my spit on you though." As if that is any better. After she said it, it hit all of us at once just how funny it was, and we cracked up into yet another peal of laughter.

What I Forgot Over the Winter

I was walking down the sidewalk today on my way to the guy's apartment, without a coat on. It's not only nice out now, but warm. It's beautiful. Probably somewhere in the 50's range or higher. All of a sudden, it hit me that I really didn't know what to do with my hands. Normally I would have them stuffed as deeply as possible into my coat pockets, but what now? I just let them hang by my sides for a second, but decided that it felt ape-like. So, I slipped my hand into my back pockets, but that felt more like I should be standing still, rather than walking down the street. This might have worked had I been walking and talking with someone. I folded my arms across my chest, but decided that it looked too much like I was angry over something, when really I was having a perfect day - it was nice out, I had just finished my last final, and was on my way to hang out with the guys; not much to be angry over.

Alas, I had already reached Arcadia Apartments before I had figured out what exactly to do with my awkward appendages.

How to Have an Awesome St. Patrick's Day

Sorry these are so late getting up here. I've been busy - you know, end of the semester stuff. But these are great pictures, so I can't really pass them up. Besides - it's a step-by-step guide to some good ol' Irish fun! (With out the hangover the next day!)

STEP 1: Start with a 3-foot balloon.

STEP 2: Completely cover in paper mache.

STEP 3: It is important here, to spraypaint said balloon with a good shade of green. After it is completely dry, pop what has become big nasty balloon, and fill shell with candy - or at least the bottom portion.

STEP 4: Decorate house with gold streamers and green balloons. Green celephane over the light fixtures is always nice. Make green food - we had a broccoli/celery tray with dip.

STEP 5: Find the loudest costumes you possibly can. "Kiss Me, I'm Irish" pins are encouraged for those of us who are. Giant hats and masks are just so much fun!

STEP 6: Invite a bunch of people you know...

...and some you don't so much.

STEP 7: Play games, dance to Flogging Molly Songs, and bust open the GIANT green ball with a broom handle, while it swings from the second story!

STEP 8: Take lots of pictures to record the rediculousness of the evening!

Bye-Bye Bishopric! We'll miss you!

As I said before, Bishop Carter was released on Sunday. What an amazing guy! He is, in all honesty, the best bishop I have ever had. And that's saying something, 'cause I've lived with one of my bishop's family! And President Erickson is just so cool that everyone loves him. But when it comes to just being a great mentor, friend, and overall bishop, it's hard to beat Craig Carter. Our new bishop, Bishop Walker, I trust will be very good. He's funny, and very nice. But he certainly has some big shoes to fill.

Bishop Carter on the GPS scavanger hunt.

His counselors were both students, but they were way cool! Brother Hollist's son and daughter are so cute! And the Hansens are an awesome couple!

I wish I had a picture of Sister Carter, 'cause she was just as amazing as Bishop. Here are some of the statistics I could remember that Bishop figured over the last 4-1/2 years:

*Sister Carter has made and served about 2000 bowls of stew to members of the 28th Ward. She has made and served over 8000 scones!

*There have been 116 weddings, 40 of which have been between two people that atually met while they were both in the 28th Ward.

*Hundreds of missioaries that have either started their paperwork or finished it while attending the 28th Ward.

*The ward has been elk bugling 4 times. (Once every fall.)

*2 barns have been painted red.

And allow me to make a guess and say that Bishop Carter and his wife have been invited over to for dinner by someone in the 28th Ward once - twice if you count this coming Sunday. And have been heartattacked once - maybe more, but I'm only aware of once. They're some pretty awesome people. We're all going to miss them.

Me, Katie, Bishop Carter, and Ang. Bishop personally comes around to each of the apartements a couple of times a semester to deliver things, like Ensigns, or to encourage us to keep the promise we make to participate in the Ward Project we have every semester. In this picture, he was bringing around the ward picture and a Christmas letter, and of course, candy, as he always does.