Neglect

If it helps anyone feel better, whilst I have been neglecting my blog I have been reading about people that neglect their children. I'm glad blogs aren't necessarily like those web animals, that you kill if you ignore for too long.

Really, the past few weeks since I last blogged have gone by so quickly, I'm not even sure if anything exciting has happened. I'm in the business of trading my limited stats knowledge and not-completely-limited computer knowledge for new door handles for my little car. I think Jake was really worried I wouldn't be able to get out of my car this winter, and he was looking for help with stats anyhow. I found out during a break between classes that one of the guys in my program served his mission in the Carlsbad mission. We were talking about how Utah isn't exactly multicultural, and he boastingly stated that he had served his mission in an area that people jokingly called "Manila Mesa," because there were so many people from the Philippines that lived there. Hey...that's where I grew up!! I told him so, and asked if he remembered any families in the area. We started naming a few people off, and it was kind of fun. I showed him a picture of my family to see if he knew them, and he remembered Mike because he'd gotten into a car accident not too long before, and when Mike left to go on visits with the Elders, my Dad had told him to take it easy on his ankle (which he'd shattered in the accident). Funny how we remember those little things.

I really didn't have a Halloween costume today. Last night at about 1:30am I decided to be Bedtime Bear, and made a little moon with a star hanging off it to pin on my tummy. It was very cute. I didn't get much of a chance to wear it though. Still, I'm going to hang it in my room. I even wore turquoise, to make sure I was the same color as Bedtime Bear.

I've got to go to bed, but I just have to say that Aggie basketball is CRAZY. The crowd really is one of the most formidable, and the team is pretty much amazing. They won their game tonight against NNU, 73-46. Pretty great, huh?

They mentioned ceramics on the Office, and now I want to go throw a pot. Not throw a pot, but sit at the wheel and throw one. You know what I mean. I haven't done that in a while...I wonder if they'll let me use the one on campus. I'll have to do a little investigating tomorrow.





Bedtime Bear, signing off.

Sometimes people can get out of their cars...

And then there's me.

If you know me well, you know that my experiences with cars has been...well, we'll call it "rocky." Let's review, for those of us who haven't heard the stories.

Car #1: Got smashed up and undriveable when a lady ran a flashing red light going 40 mph. She hit me, and then pushed my car into another guys'. He didn't have insurance. Sad day for him, and for my little Honda.

Car #2: My Dad's car. The engine burned out on Thanksgiving day, with my Grandpa and little brother in the back seat. I delayed Thanksgiving dinner 2 hours. Whoops.

Car #3: This is the most beautiful story ever. My little Dodge Omni was smoking. I determined not to drive it until I could get the problem checked out. It was Christmas vacation, and one of the ladies that had a newspaper route was going out of town to see her kids for the holiday. She couldn't find a substitute. I told her I absolutely couldn't, my car wasn't working well. She begged me and begged me and...well, it was Christmas!! What was I supposed to do? I said yes, rationalizing that I'd use the money to fix my car. I was driving the route, up one side of the street; then, as I came down the other side of the street, I parked the car to review the route list. I looked out the driver's side window and saw a little flame on the other side of the road. "That's weird," I thought, and got out of my car to look at it. As I bent over to blow it out, I thought "I wonder why I didn't see it when I drove up this side of the road." Then I turned and looked at my car. And the underside of it was glowing. I ran and grabbed my wallet and anything else that I could, then I crossed the street again to a nearby house. There was a brief moment when I considered grabbing their hose to put out my car on my own, but I decided that the hose probably wasn't long enough to reach my car. I ran up to the front door and knocked, cringing at the idea of waking up this family at 6am. A little girl in a soccer uniform answered the door. "Umm...is your Mom awake?" She nodded. "Could you get her for me please?" The little girl walked away, and a woman came to the door with a questioning look on her face. "Hi," I said, "Can-I-borrow-your-phone-my-car-is-on-fire." She grabbed her phone and rushed out of the house after me. Before she could dial 911, her neighbor, standing on his walkway in his pajamas, waved to us and said "Don't worry. I've got it." It was, we'll say, a learning experience.

Car #4: One word. Possessed. I inherited this car from my sister when I first came up to BYU. At the time, it was functioning perfectly well. As soon as I started driving it, it would randomly decide not to start. You know, just whenever it felt like it. It especially thought it was funny to not-start for a good while, and then when the tow truck would arrive, it would start just fine. That was it's favorite game. Eventually, small plastic pieces would start to fall onto my lap from somewhere inside the steering wheel whenever I would turn a corner; but the best was when it would randomly start honking on it's own. Oh, and there was the time that my siblings and I were returning from the beach. We were in the Taco Bell drive through when flames came up out of the parking brake region. No explanation there, either. Let's just say, it's probably in a much safer place now, settled in with all the rest of the demonic things that people toss out, like broken toasters and mismatched socks.

Car #5: Up to this point, you have to realize that I have become emotionally traumatized by all the car "experiences" that I've had. I decided to be extra careful and get my little car looked at just before I made the drive down with my Dad from Provo to San Diego, a month before I left on my mission. Everything was great. They changed the oil, I was good and ready to go. Yeah. The car gave up the ghost a mile south of Beaver, Utah. Good thing I have relatives that live in Beaver, huh? Have you ever had to cram two cars worth of stuff into one car? I had to decide then and there what stuff I needed for my mission, and what could be left behind in my Uncle and Aunt's garage, for my parents to pick up and put in our garage after they dropped me off at the MTC. It's actually an effective way to pack, kind of like those old shows where people run through the grocery store and grab all the groceries that they can fit into their carts in a certain amount of time.

Car #6: As could be expected, I've been nervous about cars since returning home from my mission. When my Dad suggested that I take his Prism my last year at BYU, because my schedule would be really hectic and I'd "need" it, I really hesitated. Needless to say, I've been a little overprotective of my car since then. It gets regular check ups and oil changes and tire rotations; and I'm pretty sure the guys at Goodyear laugh at me everytime I come in to get another electrical problem fixed. I've put a lot of effort into this little car. There are just two things that I haven't had the time, or been able to afford, to fix yet. They are replacing the container that the windshield wiper fluid goes in, and getting the door handles in the driver's side and passenger side doors fixed. You currently have to roll (I fixed it just for you, Darryl=]) the windows down and open the car door from the outside. Which brings me to the entire point of this blog post.

On Friday I reached out my window to open my car door when the front panel of the outer door handle came off in my hand.

I guess those door handles are made of two parts. The back part is the mechanical part that actually pulls the door open. The front panel of said door handle is not just for decoration, but functions as a place to put your fingers in order to pull the mechanical part up. I now do not have a place to put my fingers in order to open my car door.

I laughed for five minutes straight, ending my laughter with a rather vehement "Seriously?!?" Then I managed to pry the mechanical part up with my keys, and got out of my car.

So, in case you were wondering, I think the talk that most applied to this situation in todays session of General Conference was Elder Wirthlin's.

Come away, and love it. I embrace my car troubles. I laugh in the face of fire, electrical problems, and tires that explode on the side of the road. I've been through too many of them to even have it affect me any more.

(Sorry my blog posts are so long...but hey, when there's a story to tell...it's got to be done.=])

An Icy Blast from the Past

By special request, I have been asked to share a story from my past with you today. Oh, that I were as vigilant in keeping a journal back then as I am now! I'm sure there would be so many, many more details to share!

Of course, we must start at the beginning. Once upon a time, two carefree and young San Diegan women moved up to Provo, Utah to attend school at Brigham Young University. Not being able to reserve rooms at the same apartment complex as some kind friends of theirs, their lot fell to a backup apartment complex--the Glenwood. Little did they know the insanity that awaited them at the unhallowed halls of their future apartment! It was a bittersweet day, indeed, when these well-intentioned girls finally realized that their two new roommates were, in fact, viciously unstable. Craving to escape the dungeon that was their "home", and desperately seeking to fulfill their need to gain friends, they traversed their ward, their classes, and even the sports events that they loved, in order to gain some sense of normality...

Okay, I can only write like that for so long. Needless to say, Susie and I were, in fact, desperate for any sense of normalcy at this point in our lives. Susie was (and still is =]) a big sports fan, and, though I've never been completely immersed in the culture, I really like watching sports. So we bought our season ticket packets from BYU (please note that at USU, students get in to all sports events for free...) and attended the games.

October 21st, 2000. Yes, I did look up the date. It was BYU's homecoming game, and Susie and I were especially excited because BYU was playing San Diego State; not only a pretty good rival at the time, but also one of the largest and most popular universities in the city we grew up in. I, being the dork that I am, thought it would be pretty hilarious to wear my SDSU sweatshirt to the game. I'd gotten it from some former co-workers of mine, who had all gone to SDSU, as my going away present when I left for college (to BYU. They had great senses of humor). I can't quite remember whether anyone got to see it though, because all I can remember is that it was cold. It was very very very cold and windy. I would even characterize it as "blistery." (Unfortunately, I was unsuccessful at looking up the exact temperature on said day. I tried for about 10 minutes, then gave up. I'm sure it can be done, but let's face it--weather people don't know how to organize a website).

We walked to the stadium, as it was only kitty-corner from our apartment complex, and I distinctly remember being grateful for the walk, mostly because I think it was probably the only thing that kept my blood from literally freezing in my veins. But we were determined. Nothing would stop us from seeing the homecoming game! Susie and I found our seats and started to watch the game. Now, when I say we "found our seats," I don't want to deceive you all into thinking we actually sat down on them. I'm pretty sure we were standing for most of the whole game, partially because it was homecoming and everyone was excited, partially because it helped to keep us warm, and partially because the bleachers were already sopping wet from the snow and covered with (as Susie mentioned in her comment) floating ice glaciers that, I have to admit, were pretty uncomfortable to sit on.


Imagine this as us, but cuter and possibly a little more freezing




The game, for me, is a bit of a blur. The stats say that it turned out to be a very field-goal oriented game (apparently touchdowns are overrated when the temperature is below freezing). At one point JR Tolver, our past high school quarterback and now SDSU's second string wide receiver, came out onto the field. Susie and I cheered for him. Then he made a really great play, catching the ball for SDSU and making a first down. We both screamed and cheered "YEA!!!! GO J.R.!!!!" Then, over the loudspeaker came the announcer, clear as day--"That was JR Tolver from San Diego State...blah blah blah..." Please remember that we were sitting right in the middle of screaming, cheering BYU fans, desperate to win their homecoming game. EVERYONE within earshot turned to glare at us. We smiled a little sheepishly and said "He went to our High School." They all nodded, as if to say "Oh...I suppose that's acceptable." So the lesson here is, if you ever think you're going to get beat up by a bunch of crazed fans, just claim the guy you're cheering for is your brother-in-law or something, and all will be forgiven.

It was probably during half time or so that Susie and I decided to hit the snack bar to help warm ourselves up. Susie got some nachos, and I'm pretty sure we both got hot chocolate as well. The hot chocolate helped a bit, but what really kept us both alive at this point was the nacho cheese. I'm so glad they heated it up so hot, or else I'm pretty sure that we would've suffered frostbite. I would never have played the piano, as poorly as I do, ever again! And what about Susie, you ask? How could she be expected to hit a volleyball without thumbs? Yes, it was the cheese sauce that saved us.

Eventually we were so frozen that, after the third quarter or so, we felt that we had fulfilled our obligation to the school and to JR, and decided to head back to our apartment to watch the rest of the game on TV. We never did get to see the end of the game, however, (which wasn't bad for us in the end, since BYU lost 15-16) because this was also the day that, when we got home to warm up and watch the game, certain events that unfolded in our apartment made it so we finally had had enough with our insane roommate and walked out on her.

Wheel of Morality: The Lesson We Should Learn

(Animaniacs, anyone?)

If you ever think you're going to be pushed to the limit, just stick your fingers in hot nacho cheese sauce and repeat to yourself: "I'm just glad that I do not have frostbite!"

I better start stocking up...Logan is colder than Provo!!! Or, at least, so everyone keeps telling me.