Redecorating

So today I redecorated my boss’s office. I’m such a good assistant. Kelly hates pink and purple. Voilà.
He’ll miss it when I leave.
Also, I’m pretty much exploding with excitement for my trip. Thankfully, that exploding happiness is overtaking the exploding anger feeling I have about the car accident I was in 2 months ago. Remember? The guy that tried to pull around me but didn’t quite make it and ended up scraping my car? Yeah, he said I made a fast lane change in front of him, so he had to take “evasive action” in order to avoid hitting me. Yep. I’m THAT talented that I can make a fast lane change when my car isn’t moving. I should teach lessons on how to defy the laws of physics. So basically, what this whole thing translates into in financial talk is this: I pay $500.

An Epiphany

Sometimes I have these epiphanies. Usually the message is the same. In short, this is what these epiphanies tell me:

The world does not revolve around you.

Then, feeling betrayed, I say, “World, is this true?”  And then the world doesn’t respond. Why? Because the world isn’t listening to me. And then I have to sit down because it feels like I’m revolving around the world.

Scrooge, Vampires, and Torture

On Friday I decorated my boss Kelly’s office. He hates holidays. So I printed out a bunch of Halloween stuff and taped it all over his office. That made me feel better. Our office is full of trixters, and I feel like I haven’t done my part. I’ve definitely been slacking on that. Guess I’ll have to make up for it in this last month and a half.
So Sarah came home over the weekend. Since I stayed home on Friday, I started reading a Georgette Heyer. Addiction number one. Then Sarah insisted that Anna and I see the series The Vampire Diaries. Reluctant addiction number two. My life shuts down when I’m reading a book, so having another addiction on top of that should be interesting. Especially since it’s another embarrassing one. Georgette Heyer books are only embarrassing if people SEE me reading them. Trashy covers, great content. I don’t have that salve for my conscience in this case. Really, Martha? Vampires? The even more depressing part is that watching this show (as ridiculous as it is) has made me realize what trash Twilight is. Indeed, any credit I had mentally given Stephanie Meyer for her books is now completely void and null. Badly done, Steph.
Anyway, basically I’m bursting at the seams with excitement for my trip next week. Which means that time slows down to approximately 1/52 of its normal speed. And then when I get on the airplane, it slows to 1/8532 of its normal speed. Why? Because airplane rides when you’re flying alone are pure and uninterrupted torture. Yes, they have videos to watch. I get it. That may provide mental distraction. But nothing provides distraction from the physical discomfort of a plane ride. Bathroom? Better think twice or thrice about stepping over all those people. Sleep? Forget about it. That’s for first class.
Alright, back to work it is. Until December 8th—my official last day :)

Picture Story Time!

This is what 2000 East looks like right now :)
Now I’d like to tell the story of our family’s cat. She recently disappeared and then returned like this:

Sad, right? Personally, I think she got attacked by Ricky Raccoon. Anyway, I actually wanted to show some of the varied ways she sleeps. Always on my bed, but check this out:

This is one of the more mellow ones. We’ll call it “au naturel.”

This one, I like to call “dead spider” since she curls her legs up like that.

This one, her foot reminds me of Thumper, so we’ll call it “the Thumper.
Another eye-opened sleep—partially on my lap. Blood’s rushing to her head, almost looks like she’s hanging upside down. We’ll call it “the bat.”

Another more natural position.
I’m running out of names. But this next one is my personal favorite:

I’d like to call this one “ill-mannered kitty.” Not very lady-like, is she?
Yesterday Emily and I sang in Emily’s ward. As I was sitting, thinking about what we were about to do, I thought, “What if I tripped on my way up?” Then I laughed to myself, because, come on! I would never do that. Oh, but I would. And I did. Lovely. Everyone needs some nice humble pie every once in awhile.
Last night I slept at 8. Like a baby. Until 7 this morning.
Then when I woke up this morning, I grabbed my dirty laundry in my arms and took it down to the laundry room. I dropped it on the ground and….a big, FAT spider crawled out. Never again—I will always use my laundry bag for my clothes now.
We had a bomb threat in the office on Friday. You wouldn’t think that a construction worker writing on the side of a porta potty would necessitate the evacuation of thousands of lawyers and stock brokers. And yet it did. We were notified in the management office around 1:15. When I told my boss Kelly that he needed to call all our tenants and notify them, he said, “Okay,” and then proceeded to ask the engineers for help on his math homework. As things turned out, I was the only one left in the office at 1:30 when the bomb was supposed to detonate. As my brother Brian said, “What REALLY happened was probably that construction worker wrote on the side of the porta potty, ‘I dropped a bomb in here today.’”

18 Days and counting…
Today I bought 3 pairs of boots on eBay. $9 a pair. Woohoo! Now just cross your fingers that I actually receive them in the mail. Perhaps I just enriched a scammer by $28? The seller had 100% positive feedback. From 1 person. Possibly the seller him/herself. So I guess it’s just my fault if is a scam. Or perhaps I’ll get them and they’ll be much too small. The possibilities are pretty exciting.
Last night I tucked myself into bed at 8:45. That was the nicest thing I’ve done for myself in a long time. Until I bought myself sketchy boots on eBay today. Gotta take care of yourself, right? Right?
Before tucking myself in at an hour where even most toddlers are awake, I put away my laundry. Another gift to myself (and to Dad). SOMEBODY is stealing hangers from my closet. It’s like everytime I hang my laundry, there are a few too few hangers. So what do I do? Sometimes I get rid of clothes. Yeah, that’s a stupid solution. And yet the next time I run into the same problem? Mathematically it doesn’t make sense.
So tonight, here’s what I’d like to do:
1. Sleep.
That’s all.

MishMash

So yesterday I had a cool experience. It starts back earlier than yesterday, though. Conference Saturday, Janella and I saw Sister Lautaha at Temple Square. She asked me for referrals. She had me go through my phonebook. I somewhat grudgingly gave the name of a friend I knew from my exchange in France—6 years ago. I’ve had very limited contact with her since, and my memories of the girls I was friends with in France are spotted with their criticism of the Church. “C’est nul ta religion!” I remember that phrase specifically. Didn’t seem too promising to me.
Yesterday I got a call from Soeur Seube at Temple Square. She told me that she had called my friend yesterday morning. I held my breath for the negative reaction I was sure she received. Soeur Seube said, “Elle était hyper contente!” Not what I expected. My friend was so happy that I had given her name, and she accepted to read the Book of Mormon and have the missionaries over. I was sooo surprised! What an awesome outcome :) Last night I remembered her in my prayers, praying that her heart will be opened to the message she will hear and read. That experience is a testament to the fact that you just NEVER KNOW. Regardless of what happens next, at the very least, she will have some exposure to the gospel.
I’ve sometimes wondered for what purpose I had that experience as an exchange student. Such a negative experience overall. It’s often felt to me as if it only served to make me feel like I'm the type of person who gives up when things are tough. But yesterday helped me to see that there are other results of my experience there (including my resultant studies in French!). That was a great phone call for me. It got me in that missionary spirit :)
In other news, I love fries. But I think that’s changing. The last couple of times I’ve had fries, I’ve been somewhat disgusted. I’ve had McDonald’s fries a couple of times as well as fries from Sonic. It seems to be a recent trend that those fries just taste ALL WRONG to me. Almost fishy or something—the worst possible taste you could add to anything I like. I hate raw fish smell and taste. So I guess this means I’m becoming a fries snob—add that to my snob list (cheese, bread, chocolate). Somehow, though, “fries snob” just seems ridiculous, doesn’t it? That’s like saying, “I’m a frozen dinner snob.” If you’re going to stoop to fast food for nourishment, I don’t think you’re allowed to be a snob. But I’m going to be one anyway. The fries that DO sound good to me right now are curly fries from Arby’s, cheese fries from Dee’s, and the chip-style fries from Red Robin. I’ll take one of each, thanks.
Also, my immune system has given up, I think. Perhaps it has to do with my fries consumption? I guess I should treat my body a bit better if I want it to fight off sickness. Perhaps some exercise? A vegetable or two? I’ll think about it.
This morning I got to work and my space heater was still on. Oops. That’s about the 54th time I’ve done that. I can just picture it: I arrive at work and ask one of the firemen, “What happened?” He says, “Someone on the 7th floor left on their space heater.” He shakes his head and makes disapproving clicking noises with his tongue. My office-mates all look at me and glare.

A difficult brother

So, Tim gets home a month from today. Or so we think. It’s possible that he’s decided to extend and has told us nothing of the fact. Perhaps he’s decided to move permanently to Paris. Pretty much anything is possible, considering the amount of information he’s given us. That information is as follows: “Ok, my release date is the 11 of November.  So, that’s the plan.” Since then, I’ve asked him twice for his flight information. IGNORED. Guess it’s time to call the mission president lol.
In other news, I stayed home sick the whole weekend. Actually, that’s an exaggeration. I went to Provo to go to Sister Missionary Mall. A supreme waste of gas and time. Their sizes are whack. It really is a delight shopping for this:
1. 3 weeks in the dead of Utah winter: 20 degrees and snowy
2. 6 weeks in blahhh Lima weather: 65 degrees and cloudy
3. 17 months in Santa Cruz weather: 95 degrees and 50-90% humidity
Let the awkward shopping begin. Because shopping for summer church clothes in October and November is ALSO a grand delight.

Dreams, exploding heads, and Last Days

So last night I had a dream that Tim came home a couple weeks early as a surprise. I was so excited, but at the same time, I was like, “But I’m going to pick you up in Paris!” I was kind of annoyed even though I was happy to have him home. Then, he was having a hard time adjusting back to non-mission life. I just sat there and thought, “Everyone’s being so unfeeling!” And then I, being just SO much better than everyone else at understanding readjusting returned missionaries, asked Tim if he wanted to study Preach My Gospel in French together. What a genius, right? lol I'm so cool in my dreams.
That was my delightful dream. I stayed home from work yesterday. I feel kind of like someone has overstuffed the area around my brain, and my head is about to explode. It’s lovely. Luckily I’m feeling much better today. My head still feels that way, but the throat and nose situation is much better :)
Last night there was a protest at the COB—people protesting President Packer’s “hate speech” aka his address in General Conference. Ironically, as I heard President Packer speak, I felt like he was coming off much more warmly than he normally does. But, as Liz’s Eric pointed out, “The wicked taketh the truth to be hard, for it cutteth them to the very center.” Noone likes being told that they’re not doing right. President Packer is taking a lot of heat for it, but I’m grateful to him for speaking out on such an unpopular subject that the church could easily have kept quiet on. And this is only going to get worse. Last days talk

Mission Thoughts

So…I leave to the MTC 3 months from yesterday. How do we feel about this? Well, it’s dependent upon my mood. I wake up in the morning (probably not the best time to gauge my feelings on any subject), and I feel anxious and almost repelled by the thought of leaving—leaving the comforts of home, family, and all that’s familiar to me. I go to General Conference and think of Mom’s heart attack while Sarah was gone, and I get a horrible pit in my stomach with the thought of anything happening to Mom, Dad, or any of my siblings/family while I’m gone. It terrifies me. I sit at conference and feel the Spirit and a desire to share it with others. I talk to Sister Jackie Lautaha and feel inspired by her love of her mission. I read Preach My Gospel—the chapter on finding—and I feel excited to serve people in order to spread the gospel. I read Preach My Gospel about all the documentation and planning involved in missionary work, and I feel down. I look at pictures of sisters who served in Peru and Bolivia, and I feel excited. I talk to Janella who didn’t love her mission experience, and I feel anxious.
People always always ask me, “Are you excited?” I wish I could just say, “YES! Sooo excited!” But I’d be lying. People always say, “You’re going to be a great missionary!” And I think, what gives this them idea? What about me do they think makes for a great missionary? Doesn’t everyone say that same thing to every departing missionary? I wonder, do they know how my attitude is less than desirable in many situations? Do they know how selfish I am? How I get upset when things don’t go my way? How I’m not a very hard-worker? Do they realize that I’m not a very tolerant person? That I tend to be more letter-of-the-law and less spirit-of-the-law? That I’m terrible at disagreeing amicably? That I always have to be right?
I do love the gospel. It affects every single aspect of my life. I’d be completely lost without it. But I don’t know that my current personality and state translates into me being a great missionary.
That being said, I know that a mission will challenge me in precisely the areas where I am weak and need to grow and struggle. The thought of that makes me shake, though.

“As you and I observe the valiant cope successfully with severe and relentless trials, we applaud and celebrate their emerging strength and goodness. Yet the rest of us tremble at the tuition required for the shaping of such sterling character, while hoping we would not falter should similar circumstances come to us!”

In pondering and pursuing consecration, understandably we tremble inwardly at what may be required. Yet the Lord has said consolingly, “My grace is sufficient for you” (D&C 17:8). Do we really believe Him? He has also promised to make weak things strong (see Ether 12:27). Are we really willing to submit to that process? Yet if we desire fulness, we cannot hold back part! —Grandpa Neal

I know that in the past, I haven’t dealt well with homesick. When something gets hard, I want to give up. I have the worst endurance possible. So, why, you may ask, am I going to a developing country for 18 months to work 16-hour days among a different culture in a different language? Doesn’t really sound like the best idea, does it? Well, truth is, I WANT to be the kind of person who takes a challenge head-on, who endures difficult times, who doesn’t give up when it’s tough. I don’t want to shrink from a difficult taske. And really, the only way to change that is to DO it. And the best way to do that, I think, is to do so with the Lord fully behind me. I’ve sure got a lot to learn and become, and the sacrifices entailed in that are going to be worth it. It’s my decision how I confront and take those on. I’m just praying that I have the strength to handle them the right way when they do come.

I think that I have the opportunity to make my mission a completely wonderful experience. Like President Monson said, it takes an attitude of gratitude. I guess I’m going into the mission experience with (I think) a vivid realization and knowledge that, for me, this is going to be one heck of an experience. It’s hard for me to understand those who feel nothing but excitement when leaving for or contemplating a mission. I understand that the spiritual highs you achieve on a mission are unparalleled in many cases. But conversely, I also understand that the lows you feel on a mission may be equally unparalleled. I just need to keep in mind the fact that these will not only balance eachother out, but the highs will outweigh the lows.

Happy Birthday, Les :)

 Last night the girls went to Chili’s for Les’s 21st birthday. Good times. Our waiter was pretty much terrible. Not a people person. Perhaps he chose the wrong career path? Says the person who graduated in the oh-so-useful field of French Studies.

The Beginning

Guess this is my debut into the world of blogging…Here goes nothin’, right?
So, today I came to work even though I’m sick. I don’t really do that normally. Normally when I’m sick (or even not very sick), I stay home and waste the day away. But today I’m here, stuffing my nose with tissues so that I can earn money for Paris. How magnanimous of me, right?
But really, the countdown for Paris is at 27 days, I believe. So I’m currently trying to find out how I can squeeze approximately 500 activities into a bit over a week of time there. I hate choosing…
Also, my boss is pretty much driving me crazy lately. Here’s how my day goes: 1. I start working on the heap of charges, insurance, and budgets Kelly has given me to do. 2. In the middle of that, Kelly says, “Miss May? I have a project for you?” 3. I go into his office, and he proceeds to give me a fat load of things to do. 4. In the middle of that project, he walks over to my desk and says, “I need you to fax this for me to this number.” And in my head, I think, “It took you just as long to come over and ask me to do that as it would have taken to do it yourself.” 5. Repeat process. I DO like my job, though. I promise. Usually.