Thanksgiving in Elk Ridge, Utah

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone! I am down here in Katie's house right now. (Katie's one of my roommies.) It's been a pretty fun week. One and a half days 'til we go home. I'm just going to recap some of the things that have been happening.

Thanksgiving was fun. Lots of food, mostly familiar, some new. Katie's grandmother is from Louisiana so her mom puts on more of a southern Thanksgiving, but it still has all the essentials of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and of course, turkey! She made some of the best sweet potatoes I have ever had in my life! They were covered with a praline-type topping. (Mum, you're gonna love it! I'm getting the recipe.) Yeah, it was good. I made an apple pie, which 11-year old Bonnie helped me with. It came out beautifully! And man, it tasted so good. Katie asked me to make something that is more what we have. (I automatically thought of oyster-stuffing, but decided that with two kinds already, that would just be detracting from the meal.) So I made something I have always liked, and must be by far the easiest of all the dishes: peas and sweet onions in cream. I've never made them before, and wasn't sure if it was really cream, or what the real name of the onions were, so I just went by what looked right. (Dutch onions. Crazy.) I just emptied the peas and onions into a dish, stuck 'em in the microwave for 10 minutes, poured 1/2&1/2 over them, warmed them up again, and stuck them on the table. Everyone really liked them. I was like, well, it's not like it's really hard or anything.

A lot of the time I spend with Katie, her 17-year old bro. Matt, and all of their mutual buddies. The boys are hillarious. I was sitting in the back of the car with Matt, Brad, and Cloward, and Matt starts "singing" along to some techno song on the radio. He was making one noise, so Brad and Cloward joined in with the harmonizing noises. I just sat there and thought, "Wow, I'm in the back seat of a car in Utah with Levi, Todd, and Lincoln." That's exactly what it was like. I was even cracking up like I would with those guys. It was fun.

Earlier tonight, 13 of us went to play lasertag in Provo. It was so much fun. The first game was kind of lame 'cause we were mixed with another group, and they had these little kids (like 10-13 year olds) that just would not play fair. They kept taking off their vests and putting them under their shirts so that the sensors couldn't be hit. Or covering your guns if you were in close-combat. It was lame. The second game was just with us and other people from our first team (that we didn't know, but at least they were cool). It was pretty fun. I accidentally hit Kevin right in the eye. Yeah... that was embarrassing. Oh well.

All us ladies of the house of Shallenberger went to Pudding on the Rice (obviously a rice pudding place) which really impressed me. It was way good! (The amarretto... amazing!) Then to Pirates of the Carribean 2. Not an Oscar-winner, the writing needed some boosting, but at least it sets us all up quite nicely for the third one. Besides, Johnny Depp is way too good an actor to let a little thing like mediocre writing get in the way of entertainment.

All in all it's been pretty fun. Yeah, I wish I was home with my family for Thanksgiving, but the Shallenbergers have been good to me. They've got a house full of 7 kids (all with varying degrees of ADHD... and I'm not kidding - each one is diagnosed) so it's kind of crazy. But they're a good family, and are full of hospitality!

How Environment Effects Theory-Theories

The following is a journal entry for Sister Edwards' Child Development class.

Eden is seven years old, and has lived on the Micronesian island of Saipan since she was about eighteen months old. Her family is from an island off the coast of Maine, a place of which she has no recollection. Her seven older brothers and sisters, for the most part, remember things such as altering seasons, Atlantic wildlife, and pine trees. To watch Eden's cognitive development has always been amazing to me because of the very differen experiences we have had thus far. She and I are very much alike in personality and looks, and yet her understanding of certain concepts during the preoperational period (between the ages of two and six) were relatively different from my own during that stage.

Allow me to use the concept of celestial orbits as an example for the cognitive development of Eden and I. Growing up with television, I can only imagine that my understanding of sunrise and sunset at the age of four was based off of what Sesame Street and Mr. Roger's Neighborhood portrayed - something about personifying the sun with sensations such as sleepiness. Eden on the other hand has never had television in her childhood, and therefore took what she knew of the environment in which she lived (continual summer, Pacific wildlife, and palm trees) and ran with it.

When my younger brother asked my dad what happened to the sun when it went down (he was, at the time, about six years old) Eden (four) piped in with this answer: "At nighttime the sun falls into the water and in the morning the dolphins push it back up into the sky again." Simple, to the point, and completely irrational. Although Eden had, what was in her mind a very clear theory of the sun's ratation, there really was no support whatsoever for her to thing the way she did on the topic. I never would have thought of dolphins simply because although I knew what dolphins were, they were not in my immediate environment as they are in hers.

Now when Eden is asked about how the sun works, she uses a much more reasonable explanation. (It is interesting to note that, even though she's a great deal closer to the truth, she is much less sure of herself.) The interview follows:

Me: "Can you tell me how the sun works?"
Eden: "What do you mean?"
Me: "At night, when the sun goes away, where does it go?"
Eden: "I know it stays in one place, and it shinies."
Me: "That's excellent! But where does it go when it's dark outside?"
Eden: "Well, the moon goes around the earth."
Me: "The moon goes around the earth, okay. That's good. Now what does the earth do?"
Eden: "It, uhhh... I think it goes around the sun. Or something like that."
Me: "You're right! Does that make it dark?"
Eden: "It's dark, uhhh, because, uhhh, I think because the earth goes away from the sun."

Even though Eden doesn't fully comprehend the spinning motions of the earth, she does know orbits take place and even which bodies orbit around which. In three years, and very little formal schooling, she has been able to readjust her thinking in a more logical way.

Read in Whispered Tones

"Woops!"
"Shhhh! He's gonna hear us!"
"It wasn't me! It was Julie!"
"Sorry. Hey, don't put tape on his paint. Only on the glass and plastic."
"Hhh! I hear someone coming!"
"Quick! Hide!"

**Scuffle, scuffle...**

~A Few Minutes Later~

"Hehe... false alarm."
"Thanks, Katie for sending me into cardiac arrest!"
"Hey, I really thought I heard something, alright, Scott?"
"Are all the stakes in?"
"Yeah... uhh... Danel? I can't really see who you are."
"Ang, it's Mal."
"Oh! Right..." *giggle*
"Guys! Let's get gone!"
"Okay, but who's gonna stay to doorbell ditch 'im?"
"Uhhh, how 'bout Katie and Ang. Wait 'til we're in the cars though, then run out to the road."
"Okay!"

*Scuffling over gravel*

"Wow, we're really quiet, aren't we?"
"Yeah, about as guiet as a flock of seagulls."

*Loud laughter from 15 single adults.*

"Okay, let's go."

*Katie and Ang doorbell ditch Bishop, and start sprinting out to the cars. I open the door and move over to make room for Ang in the back of one of the cars. Katie has to climb over Rachel to get into the backseat of Scott's jeep. No one comes to the door, so Scott blares his horn a couple times and peels out. One other car follows him. Two of us sit in the road with our headlights off to see if he answers. Bishop appears in the doorway, framed by the porchlight, and looks around to find that a mysterious FHE group from the 28th ward has heartattacked his front lawn and truck.*

"Ha! That was awesome! Man, Ang, that was such a good idea!"
"Yeah, well, ya know. I try."

*A few days later five of us from Relief Society 'B' climb into Bishop's car to head off to the cannery in Idaho Falls. Four of us were involved in the attack. We see, piled up in the corner of his dashboard, about fifty pieces of construction paper cut in all different shapes and with all sorts of heart-felt messages scrawled across them.*

"Gee, Bishop... that looks like it was fun. Who did that?"
"Oh I'm not sure. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it would you?"
"What?! What?! Us?! Why would we know anything about anything?"
(Rachel point at one she did.) "I like that one. It's my favorite. Whoever did that sure was creative!"
"Tell us what happened, Bishop."

*Bishop relates his side of the story*

"Wow. They sound like a great group of people. You should have them over for soup and scones more often!"

The best FHE activity yet! Good job, Ang!

No Ang, You Blew More Than 'a Fuse'

So, I'm laying on the floor in my living room, alone, doing Russian homework while I watch Law and Order: SVU. (Amazing show. It's one of my addictions.) The overhead light has two bulbs, but one went out just the other day. The dimness wasn't that apparent until the daylight from the window stopped helping. I hate working or reading in dim lighting. I don't mind doing anything else in the dark, but I want to be able to see my pages very clearly. So, I decided I would take one of the bulbs from my bathroom light fixture. As long as it was on my side, Ang wouldn't care. I would just get a new bulb the next time I went to the store.

I climb up on my counter, lights off, and begin to unscrew the bulb. I worked on it for a long time, but it wouldn't come out. It felt loose, like it was almost there, but I just wouldn't finish. I thought for a second that perhaps I was going the wrong way, but after having the rhyme, "Left to loose, right to tight" run singsong through my head, I realized, no, I've got it right. Then why wouldn't it come out!? I looked in and realized that the glass part of the bulb was coming out of it's metal conductor. Great. Just great. I decided that I should leave it until I could get someone else in there - someone else being a professional, or at least a guy.

Later that night, Angela came home from a test at the center, and upon going into the bathroom, realized my light was out. She's taking a personal health and wellness class (a requirement) and the teacher asks that everybody in the class perform three acts of unsolicited service throughout each day. I'll just replace that bulb for Mallory with one of mine! That's a great idea! She managed to unscrew the bulb from the fixture without event, but when she went to screw the new bulb into the ACTIVE CIRCUIT - yes, this does mean that the light switch was in the ON position - a shock ran through her fingers.

"AAAAHHH!" came a small screech from the bathroom. Katie, who was in her bedroom studying - a new trend in that part of the apartment - turned to find a frazzled Angela in her doorway. A moment of shocked silence passed, and Angela showed Katie her blackened fingertips and a burnt out light bulb.

"Think this'll still work?" Katie shook her head in the negative, laughed at Angela's daze, and went back to work.

Still later that night, I went into the bathroom, flipped the switch, and when the lights didn't come on, I checked the toilet room (the bathroom has two parts, the vanity area, and the shower/toilet room, the latter has a door) same deal. I flipped the light switch in the hallway. Nothing. The other girls' bathroom? Nope. All the bedrooms and the main parts of the apartment worked, but it seems that the wiring in our bathroom runs through the hallway and into the other. Great. I didn't know what Ang had done, so it seemed really surreal at first, like the power was out only in those parts of the house.

Ang comes around the corner and saw me playing with the switches, desperately trying to get them to work.

"Oh yeah, I blew the fuse in here." She obviously didn't realize the extent of her damage.

"No, Ang, you blew a much bigger fuse than 'in here.'" She tried the other switches and started cracking up when she saw what she did. I joined in with her. We neglected to tell the other girls that their lights were out as well, but they figured it out eventually.

The next morning, as Ang and I turned the corner of the building to start heading out to class, there was the maintenance man, crouched down in front of the fusebox. We sniggered quietly amongst ourselves, and headed off to English.

1986 - the new George Orwell Classic

Hey! Okay folks, this is my birthday message from me, a couple days after my birthday. This past year has been a good one. Hard, fun, crazy, different, long and short, all rolled into one sweet little package I like to call "19." It was awesome. My roomie totally surprised me with decorations when I woke up and a gift! (She planned ahead. She actually thought of me over the summer while she was back home in Georgia and bought my gift there, and brought it with her to Idaho! Crazy!) Even though there weren't a lot of people here, it being Conference weekend, I was really glad I could spend my birthday with Josh and Angela. They are awesome, and I can't think of any other two people I would rather spend it with - that I could find in Idaho at least.

Happy birthday to Paul - who, if he could, would spell his name Pahl - he just turned 22 on the first. And of course to my dear friend, Julie (of the Andrews variety) who, even though she's a bit ahead of me in years, is still a classie-lassie!

Well, I've got a bunch of homework to get done before I head off to lunch and then to no-Pyccku. (That's using cyrillic characters by the way, so it's not pronounced the way it's spelled.) It's been a pleasure catching you all up to date on the beginning of my twentieth year!

A Little Blurb

Can I just say that the Conner Clan is letting this blogger thing go? This can't be happening! No, really though, we do all need to get on the ball. I mean, hey, at least I have an excuse, I'm a busy student, and have a social reputation I need to uphold. But the rest of you are really just pathetic.

Happy Birthday to Todd (today), Renae (today), and Sara (tomorrow). I'll write more on my birthday!

Leaving - Relief at a dear price

The ending is so very bitter-sweet for seasonal workers. On the one hand there is an almost uncontrollable relief that you are done. You never have to go back again. You can if you want to in a year or two maybe, but until you decide on that, you have the peace of knowing that you don't actually have to go back. Leaving right after August like I am is a prime example. August is the peak of the season. To give you some idea of what it's like let me elaborate.

At the Jordan Pond House Restaurant, at night, in the middle of August, we can easily serve up to 200 people between 6 and 9. That was my experience this year anyway, but our tourist count has been low all summer. Most restaurants, even in the middle of town, consider anything above 80 a jumping night.

The end means that the stress is off. I don't have to perform for anyone anymore. No more scraping down the grill at night. No more dealing with the nasty floors. No more smelling salmon on my hands when I tuck them under my head at night after my shower. All of those are sweet, sweet thoughts.

But there are so many other thoughts that are of a most horseraddish-like nature. No more thumb wars with the finger puppets from Geddy's. No more Ladies Only breakfasts. No more cranking the music up in the gift shop right before it opens and dancing with Rosemary. No more offers from Eric to walk me home at night; and with it no more mile-and-a-half long conversations. No more Friday nights with Dawn and Pawel. Possibly the worst is no more of my beloved Bulgarians. Many of those that came back, I feel closer to now than last year. We've just gotten to know each other so well. It wasn't until I started saying goodbye to them that I started to tear up. In general, I'm not a very teary person. There are some things that get me "every time" but not many, and parting is not one of them. But it is a very good chance that many of the friends I have made here in the past couple of years will not return and I will never see them again. Thankfully there is so much technology, our worlds have grown very close together. Sometimes though, that just makes it harder. They will be so close, and yet so very far away.

Calls Home

So, yesterday was Sam's birthday, (or today it was rather, but not really, just here, not there) and today was Eden's birthday, (or tomorrow, here, but not there, if you catch my drift) so I made some calls home. I try to make sure I call them separately, even though their birthday's are only one day apart.

Yesterday, I called and talked to Sam-a-hamma-whamma. That was fun. We laughed at things and people, and then we put them together and really got laughing! Oh man, some of the stuff people do. It's just too funny. So that was good. Sam's a good kid. It sounds like he's done a lot of growing up since I've seen him last. That's always a good sign.

I'm not the kind of person that kids grow up "too fast". I think that there are some people that just don't grow up, which is bad, and people that take on a lot of responsibility at a young age, but seeing as many of the people in this position that I know personally just use that as an excuse to feel sorry for themselves because they "never had a childhood", shows their immaturity and therefore, they really aren't as grownup as they would have you think. I mean, if a kid had to start taking on these responsibilities at like, age 9, okay, that'd be, maybe, too early, but I don't know of anyone like that, so - yeah, no.

Anyway, moving. Let's see, what were we talking about, oh! Birthdays! So, yeah, talking to Sam was fun. I just got off the phone with Eden-peanuty about half-an-hour ago. She's such a cutie. I can't really talk with her as long as I can with Sam, but she's always a pleasure to chat with. She was searching frantically for someone who knew the title of the song her new music box made, and I could hear in the background, Kait, Jake, and Ez go, "da-na-da-na-da-na, da-na-na." I knew what they were singing, but no one was really sure what the title was. I tried to tell Eden, but she ran off to get the box so I could listen to it.

"Ede, Ede."
"Yeah?"
"It's 'Fur Elise'."
"Fa Elise?"
"No, 'Fur', like the hair of a dog."
"Yeah, that's what I said."
"Okay, yeah. That's what it is. 'Fur Elise.' That's a pretty song."
"Yeah."

So, for those of you that don't know, "da-na-da-na-da-na, da-na-da" is Morse Code for 'Fur Elise.' Everyone knows that.

Happy 17th and 7th Sam and Ede. Keep on rockin' out.

Leave Calmer's MySpace.

Hey, here's Levi's page. I don't know if anyone else has checked it out, but it's pretty cool. I was just kind of fooling around online with my friend Lindsey, and she typed in his name in Google to see if he would come up. (You know the game.) Of course it did, and I checked out his page for the first time. I love the song "Being Found," it's awesome. I downloaded it.

www.myspace.com/leavecalmer

Moving

Moving must be like my hobby. I just seem to be doing it constantly. If I'm not moving, I'm gearing up to do so. Between the time I left home and right now (a total of a year and almost a month) I have moved (entirely) a frightening 8 times. That's not including the stops in between which were often long enough for me to have to use my suitcases, not just an over-night bag. It's been horrendous, but hopefully things will start to slow down as the years go by. (I'm counting on it, actually. I can't live like this for too much longer.)

Anyway, my 9th move is underway. I'm moving in with a friends' family. She and I went to middle school together and have kept in contact off and on ever since. We still regard each other (as many of my long-lost friends do) as good buddies. She's not living here right now, but rather, up near her internship. (She's a biology major. There's a lab on island and I guess they have some housing nearby.) Her family has taken me under their wing. Her mum and dad are great, as are her brother and two little sisters. Julia, the youngest, is just about Eden's age. In fact, her birthday comes up in a few days if I remember right.

I have spent the past two nights here, this will be my third, but I still have quite a few things over at the dorms. It's only about a mile away, but it's still a big change. First of all, no drunks in the middle of the night. Secondly, I have wireless, free laundry, free food, and free rent! It's fantastic! My old pod-mate, Dawn, was like, "Well, living in the dorms isn't that bad. I mean, $93 a week and we get quite a bit." I'm like, "Dawn $93 bucks a week, and I get a bed, closet, one meal a day (I pay for more, but I'm working during the other two meals), one computer with the slowest dialup I can ever remember enduring, and a perpetually disgruntled dorm mom, who means well, but complains a lot." Yeah... I think I'm getting the better end of the deal here.

So, yes. My new home, in the quiet, and somewhat familiar town of Seal Harbor. What a sweet thing it is! Beautiful! (The house too, not just the town. I mean, it's really stunning.) Besides, they have a piano. What more could I ask for!? (Not much.)

How I Feel About Laziness

You know what kind of baffles me? How some people just have no motivation to work, like, whatsoever. I don't get it! I mean, really, how can you just not work and totally, completely expect to to be paid. I mean, seriously, there are some people here that just kind of dally around and wait to be told every little thing they do, and when to do it (step by step) and yet, they seem to think that this is entirely normal. It seems to be especially prevalent among Eastern-European men who are here working for the first time. (None of them return for their second year.) I've seen it in a few Americans and a couple of women, but not quite as much. I just don't get it! There is this one guy that just drives me nuts! He is so lazy and so easily distracted that he just drives me up a wall at work. The supervisor that works on Friday's doesn't care what he does as long as everything gets done. The regular night-time supervisor, Barb, she would've whooped him if she'd seen what he was doing. (Or not doing.) She would've been on his hide faster than a bee to honey! Luckily for him, and me ('cause I'm pretty sure I'd die if I had to work with him on a regular basis) he only works on Friday's, which is Barb's day off.

Okay, well, I just wanted you to know how annoying I find that trait. Laziness I mean. It just baffles me. I don't understand it in the least!

Okay. Bye.

Are You From New England?

I usually find things like this funny, but often not even close to the truth. This one on the other hand kind of startled me as to how close to the truth many of them were. So here it is, 16 Way To Tell If You Live In New England.

1) If your local Dairy Queen is closed from September to May, you live in New England.
2) If someone in a Home Depot offers you assistance and they don't work there, you live in New England.
3) If you've worn shorts and a parka at the same time, you live in New England. (This is really where things start to hit home to me.)
4) If you've had a lengthy telephone conversation with someone who dialed the wrong number, you live in New England.
5) If "vacation" means going anywhere south of New York City for the weekend, you live in New England.
6) If you measuer distance in hours, you live in New England. (To be honest, I thought everyone did that until I moved away. It's really the only sense of distance I have.)
7) If you know several people who have hit a deer more than once, you live in New England. (Can I just add, "and have shot it on the spot to put it out of it's misery." Yeah.)
8) If you have switched from "heat" to "A/C" and back again in the same day, you live in New England.
9) If you drive 75 mph through 2 feet of snow during a raging blizzard without flinching, you live in New England.
10) If you install security lights on your house and garage but don't lock either, you live in New England. (Yeah, my grandparents did that. I never thought it was weird until I read this and I was like, ya know, that doesn't make too much sense.)
11) If you carry jumpers in your car and your wife knows how to use them, you live in New England.
12) If the speed limit on the highway is 55, you're going 80, and everybody is passing you, you live in New England.
13) If driving is better in the winter 'cause the potholes are filled with snow, you live in New England.
14) If you know all four seasons: almost winter, winter, still winter, and road construction, you live in New England.
15) If you have more miles on your snowblower than your car, you live in New England.
16) If you find 10 degrees a "little chilly", you live in New England.

Just to set the record straight, the ones about the terrible/terrifying driving (except for the deer) is alluding mostly to Massachusetts and Connecticut.

Sent to me by my cousin, Jeremy. The modifications are by myself.

Can I Just Say...

I love America?! I mean, seriously, it's the coolest place on earth. I was talking to my friend Eric and he's like, "I sometimes feel like I want to travel to foreign countries and see what they're like, but there's just so much to see here in the United States." He drives everywhere he goes and makes sure he has plenty of time to get there so he can get lost and have a good time. For example, he gave himself 5 days to get up here to Maine this summer - he lives in Pennsylvania. I must say, I have to agree. I mean, I would love to travel all over the world and if I have the chance, I will. There is a lot to see however, not only in the United States, but in each individual state, I mean, there's a lot of land out here, and a lot of people, and a lot of things. That's the only thing that kind of makes me wish I had a car.

I was reading today in 1 Nephi 14 about the promise to the gentiles that if they believe in Jesus Christ they will be given the promised land and they will never fall captive to anyone. They will have all their stumblingblocks taken from them. You can see that here in the US; although we are a very young country, we have never been taken captive. (Which is interesting, because we are a very young country.) We really live in the promised land and are a people protected like no other, I'll tell you that much.

I talk to people from Europe (there are a lot of them here) and they say things like, "Well, the food is better in Europe" (which I still find hard to believe, it's just that this food is different; it's really sweet to them, and really only the Polish say that) and I'm just like, "Well, at least you have that much. I mean, your country is being torn apart by war, gas prices are skyrocketing, and, for the most part, you guys spend 60 - 80% of your lives so drunk you aren't entirely sure what's going on, but at least you have excellent food. That's good." The US on the other hand, although it has it's setbacks (name a country that doesn't) is a mighty nation. We are strong, intimidating, and yet charitable. We give aid to places that are in need of it. We accept people from all walks of life. Of course we have the stereotypes and discrimination that are seen in all nations that I know of, but we provide the same priviledges and freedoms to everyone. It's just a great thing.

I'm proud to be from such an awesome country and such a beautiful part of it.

And that I schooled Milan at basketball the other day.

Parenthesis - More Than Usual

Okay, so I guess I totally impressed some people at work. I had no idea how little faith they had in me when I was first hired to work in the kitchen. I mean, I know it's got a reputation for being hard work, but seriously, if a certain friend of mine can do it, I can do it! (It's not that she's bad or anything, but she doesn't handle stress well - at all - and has been known to break down and cry when there's really no excuse for it. Then again, I'm not much of one to tolerate crying over silly things.)

So, I was talking to my friend Chris, who is also one of the kitchen supervisors, at dinner a few nights ago, and he was like, "Well, I start again tomorrow" (he had taken a couple of days off) "which means that Ivo" (this kid I thought I had trained well, until he revealed the ugly truth to me that really, he was never going to survive if he didn't pick it up a notch - or 10) "is not going to get away with crap like that." (Chris later threatened to send him back to the dishpit if he didn't start doing things the way I had taught him. I haven't had a problem with him since.)

I was like, "Well, don't be too hard on us." (Or something like that, I don't remember the exact wording.)
"Oh no Mal, you're fine. In fact, you've really impressed us."
"Uhhhh, I have?"
"Oh yeah, I mean, nobody, nobody, thought you would keep up. No one knew you could work that hard."
(Okay, for the record, just because last summer I was working in information and the parking lot, does not mean that they put me there because I can't work hard. They put me there because - well, actually I don't know, but they needed someone and I was it!)

Really though, it's not that hard. I mean, yeah I have to move fast when I'm making 5 to 6 pans of popovers at a time, and running buckets to the dishpit, and getting more out ahead of time so they can warm up to room temp, and stuff like that, but it's really just a matter of timing. I don't understand how people can burn themselves every time they do popovers. I mean, I've burned myself twice this summer (which I guess is a record) and they've both been minor and on pans. (There was this thing with my supervisor not putting them in the right pile, and then this HOLE IN THE BRAND NEW OVEN MIT WHICH KIND OF TICKED ME OFF! but nothing I can blame on anyone.) The kitchen manager, John, he burns himself every time, and bad too! I don't even see how that's possible unless he's jumping in the ovens after the pans.

So, yeah, moving on. The only person in the kitchen I was worried about impressing was Barb. (Who, for a long time, really intimidated me. She's the kind of woman that doesn't fool around. She's there to work and doesn't put up with stupidity, excessive foolishness, or laziness. A lot of the servers are not on her good side.) I guess what really impressed her was that, instead of just leaving when my replacement got here (there's a 2 hour overlap and really not enough for 2 people to do) I would go where I was needed, usually the dishpit. People consider the dishpit the lowest of the lows. (The popoverpit is only slightly less disgusting.) I'm just like, hey, dishes are dishes, whether you're eating off them, or someone else. Yeah, it gets nasty, but after sweating in the popoverpit all day, it's almost refreshing to move into the dishpit where the constant wetness keeps you relatively cool. I'll even do silverware if I have to. Besides, the guys in the dishpit are really cool. (Not to mention HILARIOUSLY funny.)

Here's the jist of this whole entry, I impress Barb enough so that she decided I would make an excellent expediter. Let me explain, on the line there's hotside and coldside. On hotside there's usually two people. However, when the going gets tough, they need a third person in the middle. The expediter. That person only does some simple things: stew and chowder, veggies, and starches, and putting the order up. The over all job though, is pretty important. The expediter keeps the workspace clear of food that is all prepared and ready to go up, therefore allowing the cooks to keep going. They're in charge of not letting the servers take their food before it's ALL up in the window. They're in charge of knowing who gets what food when. It's a fast job, but a lot of fun. Again, it's boiling hot, but not too bad. Overall, I love it. I also like knowing that Barb feels like she can trust me to keep up with her. (We'll see.) Not to mention I get a TOTALLY AWESOME title: the expediter! I mean, seriously, can anyone compete with that?!

"Following the Special Musical Number, We'll Hear From Brad Dalton"

Okay, so I'm sitting on the stand filling in for Sister Boothe as the conducter (a whole 'nother story let me tell ya!) and Brad Dalton is just starting his talk on living a joyful life. He makes a good point when he quotes someone-or-other in saying that living a joyful life is probably the commandment we neglect the most. He goes on to say that we let the worries of the world interfere our thoughts too much. At school, or at work, or even at home we are always worrying. He works at the YMCA, with little kids. He quickly explains this and says, (and I quote): "Ya know, we worry about everything. We think to ourselves, 'we can't lose a kid, or let them get sunburned.'"

I see through the heads Julia Conti sitting next to her mom. She sees me. I have a clear shot. I'm taking it.

"Lose a kid?" I mouth slightly while making a face reminiscent of Levi's 'You said what?' expression. Julia covers her face with her hands, but I can see her body is shaking with laughter.

The talk continues. It's good. Really good. I listen, and get a lot out of it. I feel pretty safe and secure right now, but then another attack is made available - oh, so available.

Brad says something about how joy may be seen externally, but it's "not an external emotion. It's not, like, a nosebleed."

WHAT?! This is too good to be true! I know I shouldn't have done it, but could you have kept from chuckling just a little bit? NO! I didn't make any noise above an Uncle Steve laugh. (For those of you that don't know, that's just breathing quietly but rapidly through your nose.) I did get a bit of a grin on my face though, and again, Julia saw me, though she tried to avoid my silent, ever-ready, cursed wit.

"Nosebleed?" I jiggled.

Really, it was a great talk, and I told him so afterwards. But in all seriousness, who likens joy in ANY WAY to a nosebleed?!

My First Talk of the Summer

Okay, so last week Brother Dalton (okay, let's just call him Greg. Brother Dalton's a little too formal for our relationship. Especially since I'm no longer in Church right now.) asked if I would speak this week on Matthew 6:33. I thought I might just put my notes up here. That's a good Sunday activity.

[It is also important to read Matt. 6:20-21]

"Wherefore seek ye first the kingdom of God..." Or, as the JST puts it: "Wherefore, seek ye first to build up the kingdom of God..."

Both translations are important and should be practiced.

Building up the kingdom of God:

[Missionary work] *Full time missions. *Ward/Branch missionaries. *Couple missionaries. *Every member a missionary. > A very important key to this is to make sure that people are aware that they are welcome to learn about the Church and the Gospel. I find many people just don't realize that we are more than welcoming.

[Raising families in the Gospel] *Sister Mindy Nesbit from the Stake women's conference in May gave a class on The Family: A Proclaimation to the World. This is what she said, "It is important to bring topics of the Gospel into open conversation with out kids." Another good proverb: "Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." (Just a little trivial fact: I call this the kitchen proverb because it's on a little plaque behind the sink in every house we've lived in that I remember doing dishes in. I didn't know until I was about 10 or 11 that it was actually a scripture!)


-Seeking to obtain the kingdom of God:

*We should be in the world, not of it. *Colossians 3:2. *Submit our wills to His. > Seeking to obtain the kingdom is closely related to the call to Come unto Christ. Sister Heidi Swinton spoke at a devotional at BYU-Idaho this last semester, and she said this about submission: "Our personal submission of will is the only possession we have the true right to give." *Obedience to His commandments. > Mosiah 2:41


I know that God will take care of us. We should plan, but what we should wear, eat, drink, or live should not consume our thoughts to the point of distraction from what is most important; namely Christ and His kingdom. I also know that it is not only our duty, but in our best interests to seek and to build the Kingdom of God.

Terwilliger knew what was going on!

My uncle ordered popovers
from the restaurant's bill of fare.
And, when they were served,
he regarded them
with a penetrating stare...
Then he spoke great Words of Wisdom
as he sat there on that chair:
"To eat these things," said my uncle,
"you must exercise great care.
You may swallow down what's solid...
BUT... you must spit out the air!"

And... as you partake of the world's
bill of fare,
that's darned good advice to follow.
Do a lot of spitting out the hot air.
And be careful what you swallow.

-My Uncle Terwilliger on the Art of Eating Popovers
By Doctor Seuss

Truer words have never been spoken.

Dancing Queens

Sarah and I got home from work on Friday at about 9:30. (I've started working the night shift at the gift shop so I can get a few more hours in while they're short on people for the next couple of weeks.) She was hot and nasty smelling, so upon entering the common area of our pod, she said,

"Hey, are you gonna take a shower?"
"Uhhh, no I took one between making popovers and the gift shop. Why?"
"Well, I'm gonna take a shower, and then why don't we dance?"
"Yeah, all right. That sounds like fun."

So, while Sarah was in the shower, I was picking some things up off the floor so we'd have a little more room. You see, Sarah and I were ditched earlier tonight. Some friends of ours came looking for us and asked us if we wanted to go to Seasons, Acadia Corps' new restaurant in Bar Harbor. Kyle could go, but I was still working, and so was Sarah. You can imagine we were feeling kind of sorry for ourselves... kind of. Sarah's suggestion to dance was just the thing we needed to have our own little party.

Sarah came in from her shower, put on a shirt, I tossed her a lava lava (meant for any kind of dancing, really. It just makes you feel so ... movable) and we cranked up the tunes. We danced for a good little while by ourselves, then our friend Yulia walked by, and we grabbed her and gave her a lava lava. Yulia was showing us some belly dancing moves, and I taught them a few Tahitian moves, but overall, we were following little Miss Thang Sarah on the free-style. We heard a whistle out the window, so we pulled the blinds. Yulia left, and Amy, Kyle, Brigitte, and Kim got home... holding a camera. Amy and Kim joined us, and I tossed them a couple of lavalava's. The last one I had went to Nicole, who joined us a little later. We danced til almost 11. It was so much fun.

The next morning it was unanimous: we're definitely doing it again sometime.

Back to Work

I love working for the Acadia Corporation. They really treat you well, and you get to know a ton of people from all over the world. Right now things are pretty slow. The tourist season hasn't really started yet. It wont be full-blown until about July, then it just gets crazy in August, and starts to ever so slowly peeter off in September and October.

I still work at the Jordan Pond House Restaurant and Gift Shop. The corporation has a few shops and a new restaurant in Bar Harbor as well, but JPH is out on the Park Loop road, about 15 minutes away from that town. Last year I worked days as a Information/Parking Lot Attendant. I also worked in the bar when things got nasty in there. Nights were spent working as a waitress in the restaurant and clerk in the gift shop. I ended the season working as a busser/setter. This year I'm in the kitchen.

The kitchen is awesome. First of all, I get to work with some really cool people. Not that the servers aren't cool, but in the kitchen we get to "fool around" a little bit more. (Not dangerously, but we can talk more.) When you're out front, you have to always be paying attention to the needs of some person you have never met before in you life. Don't get me wrong, I loved working out front. I've had people offer me places to stay if I was ever in there neck of the woods. One lady actually gave me her address in New York and said that if I ever wanted to tour the city, she'd house me and take me around for a couple of days. But I'm glad I work in the kitchen now. It's something new, and I've done almost every other type of job they've had to offer. I'd like to work as a hotline cook since they kind of rule the kitchen, but I'm a humble popover maker. (At least I'm in charge of that.) Maybe someday I'll be on the hotline. Who knows.

For right now, my legs ache, my feet ache, I have bruises on my wrists from pouring mixer bowls that could kill small dogs, I'm covered in egg, and I smell like popovers. I'm going to go shoot some ball before anyone gets home, and then take a nice, hot shower.

Misinterpretations!

From the song "Tiny Dancer" by Elton John:
**REAL LYRICS** "Hold me closer, tiny dancer"
**ANGELA'S FRIEND THOUGH IT WAS...*** "Hold me closer, Tony Danza"

From the song "Swing Swing" by All American Rejects:
**REAL LYRICS** "Emotions are stirred"
**ANGELA THOUGHT IT WAS...*** "She motions, she's scerd (scared)"