Surprise Guest

One morning as I was heading off to school, I noticed that our next-door neighbors had left a full garbage bag outside their door. Not that this is unusual (nobody likes to take the trash to the dumpster when it's below 20 degrees outside). What caught my attention on this particular occasion was the small trail of trash leading from a fist-sized hole in the bottom of the bag towards the stairs. I soon forgot about the incident, however, as I skipped my way down the stairs and speed-walked to the bus stop.

When I returned from work that night, the mysterious trash bag had been removed and the stray litter picked up. Again, I gave it little thought as I began tallying up all the homework that would be facing me once I walked through my front door.

Later that night, I sat on the kitchen counter as roommate Ali was leaving to hang out with her friend Greg. I honestly don't remember what she was saying over her shoulder as she opened the door, because at that moment I saw a small dark shape skitter away from our neighbors' front door.

"Kitty!" I squealed.

Ali turned and immediately began yelling incomprehensibly. Carly and Kylee screamed before they'd even seen the feline and ran to the door. All three of them ran to the edge of the landing, squawking like hens, pointing after the poor thing as it ran down the stairs.

I still sat bemused on the counter, thinking, Geez, it's just a cat.

Ali ran back inside. "IT WAS A RACCOON!" she shouted.

That explains it, I thought.

Then all four of us collapsed in a fit of giggles.

We are currently trying to decide on a name for our rabid friend. Any suggestions?

A New Year

Forgive me, friends, for I have sinned against Blogdom. It has been almost two whole months...woops. And apparently some people would actually like to hear more about the strange experience that is my life.

Well. All I can say is that I fell off the bandwagon somewhere...probably right about the time I was up to my armpits in homework and finals...and now I must redeem myself.

So, the holidays have passed all too quickly and I find myself once again steeped in textbooks and papers and quizzes and all other assignments and duties which are, sometimes, the quagmire of school. It's not all bad, of course. My roommates and I seem to find a way to make things interesting, though it usually involves lying on the floor, kicking our legs in the air, and laughing until we snort. Not to mention squealing as we chase raccoons away from our front door, or as we discover unrecognizable food items hiding in the dark recesses of our fridge, or as we wax each others' armpits.

I got a job. Well, a new one. I was working from 9pm to 12:30am Monday through Friday in the campus library as a custodian. Inexplicably, I would find myself sleeping through my alarm in the morning or struggling to concentrate in class. Go figure. So, after a year and a half of scrubbing toilets, I set off into the world to find a new way—relatively speaking. BYU is rather a world of its own. And what do you know! There is a whole plethora of other custodial jobs out there, free for the taking! I now work with a cool guy named Brad in several of the buildings in the southwest corner of campus. It is definitely the easiest job I have ever had. If I'm not careful, I'll be left with no work ethic whatsoever. Our duties include:

-making sure the relatively few restrooms have toilet paper and paper towels

-picking up little pieces of paper left by students who don't seem to be able to read the directions on the paper towel dispensor and pull with two hands, thereby ripping off little pieces of towel and leaving them lovingly on the floor by the tens and hundreds for custodians like myself to pick up. These were affectionately called "chunkies" by us custodians at the library

-going back to Milt's office and chatting for half and hour while we eat cheetohs and Farley's fruit snacks (Milt is our supervisor)

-twiddling our thumbs while we think of what else we can do for the next two hours

-maybe wiping down some windows or cleaning drinking fountains

-vacuuming a couple hallways in the Joseph Smith building...maybe

-and I'm not sure what else...I've only had the job for a week. A couple nights ago we spent about 45 minutes torturing Milt with riddles

I work from 4-8pm, Monday through Friday, leaving plenty of time to study or chase raccoons with my roommates before going to bed.

I. Love. It.

And now for school. I'm taking six classes if you include the lab:

BIO 220A + lab (animal diversity—my lecture professor speaks like he's half asleep, and my lab teacher speaks like he's Chinese, which he is)
BIO 270 (animal restraint—we get to wrestle with pigs and cows and I know not what—SO excited)
PWS 270 (animal husbandry—I don't know what I was expecting, but we basically learn how to become ranchers)
German 201 (one semester of German left after this—ach, fröhlicher Tag!)
REL C327 (Pearl of Great Price—a book of scripture for those of you not familiar with it)

So that is Holly's Life 2009 so far. How quickly it will pass.

Jetzt muss ich meine Hausaufgaben machen, oder die Klasse Montags meinen Hintern kicken werden (now I must do my homework, or Monday's class will kick my butt).

Auf Wiedersehen!

Early Snow, Mountains Revisited

I refuse to title this post "Update", although, as requested (forcefully) by my younger sister, that's essentially what I'm doing. I'd like to apologize for my disappearance the last couple weeks. Midterms and research papers can do that to a person.

To be quite honest, the babble of homework in my brain makes it difficult for me to remember what I've done since I last wrote. People are always asking me, "So what did you do for the weekend?" When I can't answer, they cock an eyebrow and say something along the lines of, "That fun, eh?" So I turned to my camera for inspiration, hoping to find something to jog my memory.

Bingo.

I don't know if you can tell from the picture, but—IT SNOWED a couple weeks ago. It only lasted the morning, but as I set out for school there was still enough to give me the holiday shivers.

I also went early on a Friday morning to the Provo Temple. It sits at the top of the foothills, offering an awesome view of the valley, the lake, and the mountains on the other side. It was a beautiful morning. I don't know if you've ever really paid attention to clouds before, but the clouds that morning were spectacular. They hung very low over the mountains. There's something about clouds hanging over mountain tops. Every once in a while they'd move just enough to give you a glimpse of the peaks, frosted with newly-fallen snow, before closing like curtains, hiding their handiwork.

I love the statue of Moroni on top of the Temple. I know it's the exact same one on top of every temple, but I love it every time I see it. I like the way his chest lifts towards the sky and his robes billow slightly behind him, as though he's leaning against the wind.

When I came out of the Temple I fully intended to go home, but I kept gazing up at the clouds and the snow on Mount Timponogos, and soon found myself driving past the Temple, further up into the mountains. I stopped to snap a picture, but I couldn't capture the image I was seeing with a photo, no matter how many I took. I wasn't high enough. Then I saw that I could go higher, so I did and found a big boulder to stand on. Better. Then another road appeared, venturing even higher. I followed it. When I arrived at the highest spot I could reach without continuing on foot, I took more photos. I was still dissatisfied, but it was the best I could do. I mostly tried to get an unobstructed view, but I actually kind of like the effect of these wires descending into the valley. I suddenly really wished I could ride them like Kevin in Home Alone. What a rush that would be!



Here's Timponogos. I wish I could show you what it looked like when the clouds parted ever so sheepishly to show the peak, but it was as though they knew I had a camera. So, I took a few more pictures, still hoping vainly to capture the feeling I had while looking down from the mountain.

That collection of slightly taller buildings comprises the approximate center of BYU campus. It was weird being able to see it in its entirety when just walking from one end to the other seems endless.

That fuzzy little white building with the pointy thing on top is the Mount Timponogos Temple. It's actually quite a distance from Provo. I was proud of my poor little lens.

There are a couple more things I've done recently which I'll have to relate later—at the moment I need to pack. In two days I'll be winging my way to California for Thanksgiving! I could do a jig I'm so excited. For now I'll leave you with the following:

Before I forget I must testify to the fact that coasting down a mountain in my tiny little car has to be one of the scariest and funnest things anyone could do.

Halloween

Friday was the perfect Halloween day. The sky was overcast and dark, and there was a chilly breeze. The dark clouds behind the mountains made the perfect backdrop for a spooky night.


One great thing about BYU is that most of the students really get into the holiday. I pranced around campus like a ninny with a silly grin slapped on my face most of the day. There was something about seeing all these funny characters reading textbooks and hurrying to class with backpacks slung over their shoulders that made me giggle. The atmosphere felt light-hearted, more relaxed. It was nice to have a day when everyone wasn't absorbed with academic worries.


I was particularly entertained by this fellow. I loved the way his crown was tipped back on his head, and his grin as he walked along with a bounce in his step and one hand slung in his pocket. He looks like he'd make a good king.

I felt a little bashful as I took these pictures, like a wannabe photographer. Real photographers have chunky black cameras with foot-long lenses and a tripod. No one minds if one of them is sitting on a wall, taking pictures of people as they walk by. In fact, some might secretly hope to be snapped in a photo (laughing casually with a friend, or studiously pondering a book).

But I probably just looked like a creep.


This guy was certainly giving me funny looks.


So I snuck up to the balcony on the fourth floor of the Joseph Fielding Smith Building. The view of the mountains from up there is almost imposing. They have a way of feeling very close to you, like they're watching your every move.


I felt a little guilty spying on everyone from up there, but in a good way, the way I felt as a child when I had come up with a new secret code or established a secret hiding place to read my books and hide my treasures.

This girl caught my eye pretty quickly. I like her ears, and the fact that she's wearing orange.

I like orange.


I don't know what this guy is supposed to be, but his hat is sure funny.


I didn't realize until I'd zoomed in that this young woman isn't wearing a costume. Oops.

I think I had a class with her once...


These two were adorable. As the marriage capital of all universities, it is not uncommon to see children on campus, and they were everywhere Halloween night.


This guy reminds me of a cross between a superhero and a nerd.


I love his cape. It's yellow.


Then there were these two.


I knew immediately that I was about to witness the funniest thing I may have ever seen. Two twenty-something-year-old ninjas actually trying to act like ninjas. It was too good that I had just happened upon them, that I was witnessing it all from that balcony, and they had no idea!

I wish that I'd had a camcorder. They were leaping over things and rolling across the lawn and doing somersaults off of benches like their mission depended on it.


And let me just say, for those of you who don't know, that it is extremely difficult to find two quickly moving, leaping, rolling, somersaulting objects when your lens is zoomed all the way in...or out...or...whatever the correct term is.


I really wish I knew what those two were up to, but it was about this time that a little red battery symbol began blinking in the corner of my display screen, and the bell tower began to chime, and I began to reconcile myself to the fact that I have a job, and it is not to spy on Halloween-happy BYU students.

More on that later.

One last look at the mountains, then.

Football

Here we are at LaVell Edward's Stadium in Provo, Utah, September 13, 2008. It was clear and warm—the perfect day for a football game. UCLA had come to battle against the Cougars.

And they didn't come alone. My grandma, Nanny, came all the way from California to support the Bruins. Dad and Eamers remain loyal. Mom cheered for both sides.

We tried this photo three times before letting Mom put on her shades. The strange lady looking on in the background is Nanny. ;)

Though Eamers appears to be much taller than me in this photo, I'm certain that she was standing on the bleachers.

It was an intense game. The poor Bruins struggled quite a bit.


This was the final score.

Here I am with Nanny. She took the Bruins' loss like a champ. I was sorry that she came all that way for them to be slaughtered, but I was sure glad she came. As she's told me since I was little, I love her "heart and soul and body and soul"!

Potterpotterpotterpotterpotter

I am a major Harry Potter freak. Forgive me.

Shortcuts

I sometimes like to think that one can learn something from my experiences. I flatter myself that there is some moral to be gleaned even from the simplest details of my little life. It makes me feel better at moments when the only result I can see from my latest blunder is embarrassment.

For example, I can tell you from first-hand experience NEVER to wear flip-flops and a heavy backpack. On a rainy day.

The second week or so of school, I was still getting used to my new schedule and was running late one morning. I live farther from campus this year, so I take the bus to school every morning. Well. I had already missed the bus a couple times since the start of school and was determined not to do it again, especially in the same week. Remember the poised, sophisticated, no-nonsense university student? She's still lingering a bit. So, in my rush I grabbed my old Wal-mart flip-flops instead of my sneakers, inhaled a granola bar, and headed out the door, a satisfied bounce in my step. My apartment complex has a beautiful park setting in the center, complete with a stony creek, park benches, and shady trees, and the morning was especially beautiful. It was a little cloudy still from the rain we'd had the day before, and it was cool.

Still nervous about missing the bus, I cut through the grassy area on my way to the stop, following a well-worn dirt path that many a running-late student has taken in an effort to shave a few seconds off the walk to the street. Walking briskly, I followed the path down a slight hill. A mere two steps away, I spotted a dip in the ground where rainwater had collected, creating a miniature bog. I planted my feet, screeching to a halt, relieved that I had seen the puddle before stepping right into it.

But I was wearing old Wal-mart flip-flops with zero traction. And a thirty-plus-pound backpack. My feet proceeded immediately to fly out from underneath me, landing me flat on my back in the middle of the quagmire.

Amazingly, the first wild thought that ran through my mind was, "Get up! Get up! You're going to miss the bus!" My feet slipped beneath me as I struggled to stand, my eyes darting frantically to the street. Then the wetness—and the cold—sank in, and I looked down.

Not only was my pant leg soaked in mud up to the knee, but my left foot had slid into the mud as I fell. I had a momentary flashback of the many hours Liz and I spent playing in the mud when we were little, and how I had enjoyed squishing it between my toes. I was not enjoying it now. I remembered that I had landed on my backside, and I twisted to examine the damage.

Only now did it dawn on me. There was no way in Hades that I was going to catch the bus. Perhaps that sophisticated student wouldn't have fallen in the mud in the first place, but she most certainly would not dream of attempting to go to class in this condition. A single giggle escaped me—then I realized there might be witnesses. Still standing in the middle of a mud puddle, I almost lost my balance again as I spun about to check behind me.

Not a soul.

Now I was laughing in earnest. What luck! I squished gingerly back to my apartment and spent a few minutes laughing at myself as I stood on one foot, alone in the middle of the livingroom. I almost wished that someone had been there to see my performance.

The philosopher in me wants very badly to turn my clumsiness into a life-lesson. The simple explanation that mud, flip-flops, and a heavy back-pack make a bad combination seems lacking. Perhaps the moral here is that, in my attempt to make up for bad time-management, I took a shortcut, and ended up on my behind in a mud puddle. There are no shortcuts for poor organization.

Ha! My proverb sounds more pathetic the more I think about it. Well. If my life cannot be inspiring, it can be entertaining. Here's to the entertainers of the world! Perhaps I should have been an actor, or a comedian?

If that is the case, I am truly sorry that there was no one to witness this:

It might have done some poor depressed soul a great deal of good.