A Good Day

I've had a lot of good days in my life, but yesterday was definitely one of the better. Let's just put it this way — I started it in the same room as these people:



Spent an hour in the same room as this man:



And finished it with four of my favorite people in the world.



(Note: That picture wasn't taken yesterday.)

All members of BYU stakes were invited to the Marriot Center for Regional Conference, and President Uchtdorf, Elder Packer, Elder Marlin K. Jensen (my brother's mission president and current member of the Seventy) and Ann M. Dibb spoke to us. Elder Holland spoke at the CES fireside for young adults, and because I'm in Provo I jumped at the chance to actually be there, not just watching a broadcast.

And I went to Kendall's and played with those four awesome people for an hour or so before going to bed. Kendall and Roxanne went to a wedding and I went over to make sure Scotty and Ty got showers and Devin and Kalli made it to school.

It was a good day.

What a difference five years can make

Today while I sat at Sonic Drive-in waiting for my $3 order of cheddar bites, I found myself thumbing through my wallet. It's fun to do sometimes — I'm a bit of a pack rat.

I found my Dependent I-Card from when I was 16. I found my MHS Activity Card from senior year. I found an old iTunes gift card and a new one I haven't redeemed yet. But somewhere between my Delta SkyMiles Card and a Paul Mitchell business card, I found a small slip of paper that said this in faded ink:

Beehive Federal Credit Union
Date: 12/14/03
Time: 12:11
Location: 65 South Center
Rexburg, ID
Withdrawl: $60.00
From Savings
Current Balance: $120.58

I laughed a little when I saw "$120.58." I am a poor, starving college student. But — I strained to remember — was there really a time that I was that poor?

That got me thinking. Dec. 14, 2003, was only five years ago. I was just starting high school. I was sophomore class president and worried about putting together an awesome dance. I couldn't wait to be old enough to date, and it felt like 16 was decades away. I didn't worry about money or time or what I was going to cook for dinner.

Another five years before that, I was 10. My parents were building a house and I didn't want to move to Rexburg. I was afraid the other kids would be mean to me or that I'd get a bad teacher. I was trying to learn how to do my own hair — and failing.

Now that I'm older, I move at least twice a year. I've done my own hair thousands of times and I can hardly remember what it was like to not be able to date. But I worry about having enough money or good enough grades. I worry about where I'll live next semester. I worry about choosing a good man.

How much, then, will I change in the next five years? Ten? Twenty? Where do I see myself? Sonic was particularly busy today, so I had a lot of time to think about it. I have a plan, but if there's one thing I've learned in the last five years it's that life rarely follows even the best laid-out plan. I do know a couple things, though. I see a few specific things coming:


Internships ...


... graduation ...

... the Temple ...

... a family.

I think the best is yet to come.

High pain tolerance? I call it "insanity"

I started my internship at Utah Valley Magazine today, and it went really well, considering it's my first day at a new job in a new city. I'm basically just transcribing an interview for Jeanette. It's important work, albeit terribly boring and tedious. But I guess that's the life of an intern.

The really crazy thing was the phone call I got after work. My friend Ryan had a doctor's appointment to check on his leg ... OK, it's time for a little back story:

Last Wednesday, Ryan and his friends were playing Ultimate Frisbee for the championship (have you seen the RM? Ryan from Rigby ... likes to play Frisbee!) and it was a really intense game. They were up by two with just a few seconds left in the game and Ryan jumped to block a pass that would have been a touchdown for the other team. As his feet left the ground, he says, he heard a pop. Not when he landed — when he jumped.

He iced it and took some ibuprofen, but he walked on it for days and it didn't discolor or swell enough to worry about. We went to Lagoon and rode roller coasters last Saturday. He just thought he'd better get it checked today to make sure it was all right before he leaves on a 25-day excursion to the east coast. The doctor said it was probably just a sprain but did an X-ray just in case. And you'll never guess what they found:



Yep. It's a compound fracture. He broke it in two places. It looks like it's about a quarter inch from slipping and sticking out of his skin. Gross.

He blamed his lack of previous concern on a "high pain tolerance," and that's just not human. But he's going into surgery in the morning, and I was extra careful during my Ultimate Frisbee game tonight — which we won. It's good to know things always work out.

Top ten reasons this was the best summer ever — hands down.

I don't care how awesome any other summer has ever been in the history of the world — ever. This one tops it. Except maybe the summer when we became a country. Or when, you know, the Civil War ended or something. But I digress.

Seriously though, I've had the time of my life these last few months (as demonstrated by the lack of any recent posts — I haven't sat at a computer for longer than a half hour all summer). A lot of things made it great, but for simplicity's and brevity's sake, I've narrowed it down to the Top Ten Coolest Things That Happened This Summer.

#1: I Wanna Rock 'n' Roll All Night
Any time you start your summer break (which, of course, happens to be five months long) with a Jimmy Eat World/Paramore Concert, you're one lucky girl. Or guy, if you happen to be a guy. I went with my friend David Packard, and Hayley Williams winked at him. I'm not kidding. And Mitch Porter smiled at me, and Jeremy Davis gave me a nod. I'll take it. Cool things like that happen when you have floor tickets and the guts to push your way to the front. I got a lot of sweat on me and most of it wasn't mine, but the front-row spot was totally worth it.

#2: On An Island in the Sun ...
I went straight from the concert in Pocatello to Salt Lake City, where my family and I boarded a plane for Maui. I went with my parents; my brother Matt; his wife, Jeanette; and his two oldest kids, Nathan and Hailey. The kids liked jumping into the ocean — in swimsuit or in normal clothes — and letting the tide push them back to shore. Mom and Dad liked the weather. I liked the snorkeling best, and I didn't even get sunburned! It was a summer miracle.

#3: You and Me, We's Pals!
LeaDawn and I, of course, had our adventures. Even though I wasn't her roommate anymore, we still went to Shoshone Falls and hiked the R Mountain. I just love her.
I think Daniel might love her, too, which I guess I'm OK with. He's a pretty cool guy.

#4: Ain't No Party Like an EFY Party!
For five weeks this summer, I basked in the fabulous LDS-youth infested bubble known as EFY (for those not hip to the LDS-acronym jive, that's "Especially For Youth." And by "LDS," I meant "Latter-day Saint"). I loved being a counselor there. I loved the girls I was over, I loved teaching them about the gospel and I loved bearing my testimony so often — several times a day. And I'll never again hear anyone say, "All right, all right ..." without getting ready to clap. If you've been to EFY, you know what I'm talking about.

#5: Glad Tidings from Cumorah
I had a little break in EFY sessions in June, and I once again headed to Salt Lake and boarded a plane. This time, though, I headed east to Palmyra, New York to be in The Hill Cumorah Pageant. Of all the amazing things I did this summer, this sticks out to me the most. I played the role of a harlot, which was hilarious, and was one of the wicked people to cast the prophet Lehi out of Jerusalem. I hope they weren't type-casting.

But my favorite part was proselyting before each performance. We went out into the audience each night, and I've never felt such a sense of purpose before. Nothing else I've ever done has felt so important, so urgent, so fulfilling, so worthwhile or so rewarding. Bearing testimony of the Savior, the Prophet Joseph and the Book of Mormon strengthened me, and I didn't feel like I could do it enough. I had to do it, and I had to look people in the eye when I did, because I was THAT sure. And the best part is, when you give of yourself like that, you get a lot more than you give.

#6: "I Retired to a Grove of Trees Near My Home..."
While I was in Palmyra, I went to the Sacred Grove three times. There's a unique spirit there, and you can feel that something important happened there. It feels almost like the dirt, the trees and even the air can remember when God the Father and Jesus Christ appeared to Joseph Smith. That story sounds crazy, and I realized that when I told it to people. But when you really listen, it's very sacred, very true, and that feeling is wonderful.

#7: Slug Bug! Silver ...
When I came home, I knew a sad, sad day had come — it was time to say goodbye to the blue Geo Metro I'd driven since I got my license. I was going to buy my dream car — the one I'd wanted since it was introduced in 2000. My parents and I drove to Murray, Utah where we picked up my new silver Volkswagen Beetle. I bought my first car, and now I'm officially in debt. It's totally worth two years of payments, though, because it's pretty much the coolest car ever.

#8: Splish, Splash
In between trips, I managed to get my friends to take me wakeboarding twice this summer. I successfully got up once. My first time, actually. And I'm satisfied with that, because Ryan's mom got a picture of it and I got a lot of good snacks between tries.

#9: Just Keep Climbing ...
Toward the end of the summer, I climbed Mount Borah. I don't know why. It seemed like a good idea when we started, and I guess it's cool to say I climbed the tallest mountain in Idaho, but it hurt. For days.

#10: My Brothas and Sistas and Me
Overall, I got to spend a lot more time with my family this summer than usual. That made everything better. I have the coolest brothers and sisters and cutest nieces and nephews in the universe.

Sorry, Jim Halpert

There's a new man in town — I've fallen in love with David Cook (and, I promise, I'm still a good Mormon).

That place in my heart used to be strictly reserved for The Office, but since the writer's strike, American Idol has completely taken over. Sorry, Jim, I'm all about David now.

I fell for David Cook the first time I heard him sing "Music of the Night" — and I even kind of think Phantom music is overplayed. His version of "Hungry Like the Wolves" was even better. Dad had to "mop me off the floor" that night, to quote my mom. Last night, I was totally crazy for that "Sharp-Dressed Man." I'm even willing to overlook the ridiculous cowboy boots as long as he's holding that left-handed guitar.

Seriously. Look at that face. How can you not just love him?

I told Hannah I was going to marry him. She believed me. And as soon as David Archuleta gets on the ball and baptizes him, I'm totally going to make it happen.

So, congratulations to David Cook. I can't wait for the CD.

Breaking the ice? Well, apparently, it was already broken.

Jenny and I saw this really hot guy at Subway in Kaysville. I did the quick neckline/ring finger check (I mastered it at BYU-Idaho) and saw within seconds that he was, indeed, an unmarried returned missionary. Jackpot.

We both started talking to this guy in a feeble attempt to get him to notice me in the approximate minute and a half that it took to order a sandwhich. I was holding Molly, not Sadie, in hopes that he would realize the child WASN'T mine.

"What's that?" Molly asked, pointing to a mystery meat. I saw that opportunity and jumped on it.

"I don't know, Molly, let's ask," I said, and turned to the gorgeousness himself. "She wants to know what meat that is."

"It's salami," he said, and I nodded as though it interested me. Molly kept asking questions.

"What's that?" This time she pointed at something that, to me, looked like some sort of cooked black bean. It was black and liquidy and had little bits of something in it. I'm a big fan of black beans, but even I couldn't imagine someone wanting them on a sandwhich. I was curious about that one.

"And what's that?" I asked again, pointing and smiling what I hoped was a wry smile.

"That's ... water," he said, not looking up.

I think I might have said "Oh," but if I did it was barely audible. Had I seriously just failed to correctly identify water in a black container? I tried to say something like, "Of course it is!" or "Yes, Molly, I was right, it really IS water. You should have believed me" but, unfortunately, I'm not that quick on my feet. I just kind of stared at it, perplexed, while Jenn tried to cover for me.

"What's ... it ... for?" she asked, stifling a laugh while I still just looked horrified.

"To wash the tuna off the scoop."

Now we know. And I think I can honestly say that's the first time someone has been uninterested in me because I wasn't smart enough.

Answer: She's Been Domesticated

I knew it when I saw the baked potatoes.

It happens to all of us eventually, I suppose. But when I moved in to an apartment with LeaDawn at the beginning of Fall Semester 2006, she was so independent and unattached. I didn't think the day would come this soon. But come it did.

I went to visit LeaDawn after I got finished at the temple the other day. Daniel was going on a retreat for Sports Activities that night and needed to bake some potatoes to take up to Victor for dinner. LeaDawn wanted to help him. While Daniel was in class, LeaDawn was working on some floor plans on her laptop. Many people wouldn't see anything out of the ordinary. But I know LeaDawn, and I saw something big happening.

She was working from home and cooking dinner for a boy. Do you know what that means? Answer: See Title.