BEST WEEKEND EVER! Part 1

I am now a full-grown, bonified adult. If I broke your nose, I would be cell mates with convicted murderers and the 911 masterminds.

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I took a THREE HOUR trip up to Roy, first by bus, then by rickety scary trainbus, then by really cold awesome train. It was quite the adventure. Once I finally reached the Roy train station I was greeted by this wonderful sight:

This is a giant shovel. Michelle claims that they're everywhere, but I don't buy it.

Michelle came shortly after I took the shovel picture, and we headed back to her beloved abode. After settling in (which consisted of throwing my stuff in the corner, removal of shoes, and cranking of the black girl music), we made cookies. And by "made cookies," I mean we recreated what must have been mannah from heaven.

This is what I decided to do with the little bit of dough we had left. It started as a smily face, but as I continued to admire my handiwork, it morphed into a bikini. MAJOR disappointment.

After a brutal Skip-Bo tournament, we decided it was time to pick up Nate from work and head over to the party that the all the editors were thowing. This party was at the COOLEST park ever. It was huge. And it had a splash pad, which is an awesome thing that squirts water while you run around. Of course, I couldn't find my camera to document it until we got back in the car to leave. Just trust me on this one.

We took a small detour on the way home because Michelle saw a girl on the sidewalk eating a dipped ice cream cone and vowed to locate the source of her bounty. I got an Oreo Cheesequake blizzard that should probably be illegal because it is so tasty. Nate got a slushy drink think that made him moan for hours afterward from discomfort. Addison hit puberty REEEALLY early.

We got back home soon after, and because Michelle and I are such excellent planner-aheaders, we commenced with the preparation of the Macaroni Salad (capitalized out of respect) while Nate deejayed our black music. Finally, after four episodes of House, we fell asleep. My last night of being seventeen was basically spectacular.

Next morning: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Addison came down the stairs around 8, so we didn't waste any time with frivolous sleep. We ate birthday breakfast of Cheerios with fresh strawberries from Shell and Nate's thriving garden. Since they were so delicious, we got to go out and pick more (to replace the eight dozen I consumed with my cereal)!

Finally, Doug, Shauna, and Juliann showed up. PARTY TIME!!!

PRESENTS!!!

After the spectacular festivities, we only added to the grandeur of the day. Shell and Nate, me, Shauna, Juliann, Brynny, and Addison (that's THREE car seats) piled into the car and took a quick ride over to the Roy Aquatic Center. It was INCREDIBLE. They had huge slides, high diving boards, toys, fire hydrants that you could spray strangers with, and basically any other component of water fun that's feasible to the human mind. I got good and sunburned and me and Shell got huge wedgies from going down The Water Slide of Absolute Death. Nate and I went down again and had a contest to see who could skip across the water the furthest. I won.

But wait folks! It's not over yet! More birthday adventures to come in "BEST WEEKEND EVER!!! Part 2." Stay tuned!

Caught in the Act

This is Rachel. That is all I have to say.

That, folks, is NINE scarves. NINE.

Kum Ba Yah, Anyone?

In the time that I've spent here at BYU, I've experienced a bit of culture shock. Basically, somethin's not right... A few choice examples:

Jumping pictures. Everyone here has a pretty predictable tendency to say, "Hey! Let's do a jump-een one!" And so we do.

Another peculiar tradition concerns the use of MANY eating utensils. EVERYONE uses knives here. It's not a special occasion sort of thing for them - it's a way of life. I was slapped in the face by this custom yesterday as I was sawing away at my chicken-fried steak with the side of my fork when a boy I call Awkward Michael asked, "WHAT are you doing?" I looked around confused to notice all the others in attendance daintily slicing small bite-sized cubes of steak with a knife and spearing them into their mouths. I quickly wiped my hands on my pants, blew my nose on the tablecloth, and picked up my knife.

The last custom in question is referred to, appropriately, as "tunnel singing." Pretty self-explanatory. Every Sunday night at ten o' clock, a BUCKETLOAD of people gather in the large and spacious Marriot Tunnel and commence singing hymns. It is weird, but in a nice kind of way. During "Nearer My God to Thee," groups were making circles, putting their arms around each other, and swaying to the tune. I drove the Spirit away by immediately starting up with an original arrangement of the popular spiritual, "Kum Ba Ya." It was a hit.

The gang. Rather, A gang.

Saturday Night and Baby...

This weekend has been quite the ball. It all started with me getting out of bed at twelve (yes, I mean NOON), and basically doing nothing all day. Attending my first ward activity was really all I had planned. We were going to hike Y mountain to watch the sunset and eat Duplex Cremes. I was pretty pumped. (Me and a bunch of girls hiked the Y last week too, so I'm now considered a seasoned pro at this particular activity.)

Rachel, Miriam, Me

We were off! With hair braided and band-aids applied to the heels, we were totally prepared. We piled into our high counselor's fifteen seat party van and drove to the base of the hike.

Andrea Olortegui, Rachel, Me, Miriam, Megan Pond, Rebecka Bischoff

Megan, Me, Miriam, Rachel

For those of you who have never hiked the Y, let me tell you it is ridiculous. It's not a very long hike at all, but it's pretty steep. I think it's the best leg workout ever created by the hand of God. So, needless, to say, we made it to the top panting, sweating, and exhausted. (Plus, there is no air in Utah. The oxygen count is about six molecules per square yard.) Totally worth it. The sunset was great, the people friendly, and the Duplex Cremes exceptionally tasty.

Andrea, Me

Kirsten Page, Kirk, Jennifer Taylor, Me

Explanation: These were two crazy guys climbing on a huge scary rock overlooking the valley. It was really intense, so I started taking pictures of them. They saw me. So Allison McCoy and I took the liberty of getting a real, hopefully less weird snapshot. (Surprisingly, orange shirt boy was the best smelling organism I've ever had the pleasure of exercising my olfactory receptors on.)

After the climb down, some new friends and I decided to go do a ridiculous thing entitled Watch a Terrifying Movie in the Abandoned Tanner Building. So we split up with the intent of regrouping after the necessities (blankets, popcorn, Ring Pops) were acquired. Those of us without assignments got a little bored...

Justin Smith with abandoned sun glasses. [Note: I have never met a kid who's worse at smiling for pictures. This is the best one EVER.]

Me and Katrina Leo, pre-terrifying movie

On a side note, I'd just like to let you all know that I am a very highly cultured individual. Justin, pictured above, is half Korean. Katrina is from Indonesia, and Andrea is from Peru. Megan Pond lived in Peru and is going to Romania this fall. Because I know all of them, I am REALLY COOL by association.

This is Daniel Jones. Because he is from Georgia, and because he is Black, we were friends. That was until he called me after the movie, from an unfamiliar number, I answered, and he only breathed into the phone. It was a brief relationship.

The movie selected was When a Stranger Calls. NEVER, I repeat, NEVER watch this movie. You will be scarred for life in every interpretation possible. Because of this horrendous experience, I will never answer a telephone again. In addition, the Tanner Building shuts down at midnight, meaning, if you are in there, the lights start going out, and if you happen to be using a projector it powers down without warning. At the most intense horrifying part, this happened, and I wet my pants. (Just kidding.)

We walked to the Marriot Center and finished watching on Barbie's laptop. I've never seen a computer this teensy. Anyway, it was four billion times scarier because we were outside, in the dark, in the howling wind, and Daniel kept being scary.

Megan Pond, me, and Katrina, post-terrifying movie. Apparently, my nostrils flare when I am frightened. Megan just cries.

As we were walking home, all of the girls had linked elbows and were walking together in attempt to ward off any monsters that were most assuredly lurking in the bushes. We took up more than the sidewalk. In the darkest part of the walk back, some STINKPOT BOYS drove by in a silent car and screamed "BLAAAARGH!" at us. We all screamed and dropped to the ground from terror, begging the end to come quickly. The guys in our group probably wet their pants from laughing so hard at us.

It was so stinkin fun. All of us girls slept in Miriam's room and watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants so that we would feel better. It worked. We stayed up until four in the morning, which justified the three and a half hour naps we all took the following day.

If it was these guys that screamed at us, I might be able to scrounge up some forgiveness.

Movie Night

Last night, there was a big to-do in Nottingham. BYU was hosting an outdoor movie night, complete with games, free t-shirts, and ice cream. Since me and my rommie, Rachel, are such crazy party animals, we had plans to go.

I was pretty lost on the actual "getting there" part (no pun intended), so I grabbed one of my pals from across the way, Justin Smith, and headed over with him as our guide. We were met by a girl from down the hall, Rebeckah Bischoff, who is also in my psychology class and a frequent lunch companion. Basically, we had the ultimate set up for a fantastic evening.

We arrived at Helamen Fields and staked out a spot right in the back with the maximum number of heads blocking our view of the screen and sat for a while, just taking in the sights, sounds, and smells of fellow collegians playing frisbee, diving for t-shirts, and trying to scare us out of our golden spot by laying their blankets down REEEEALLY close to ours.

Finally, the movie started. About thirty minutes into Planet 51, my compadres and I began to notice HUGE lightning forks flashing across the sky at about three minute intervals. And then the rain began. [NOTE: I have been hoping and wishing and praying for rain for the last two weeks. OH THE IRONY!!]


So the movie was taken down, much to my disappointment, and we began sprinting back to our building, dodging the falling icicles as we ran. We got back just in time for the rain to subside. Heh.

This is what we were greeted with.

Rebeckah, Justin, me, Rachel (pre-downpour)

After we had partly dried, Rachel and I called for our weekly movie companion, Miriam Bennett, to come entertain us with her substantial movie collection. We stayed up until one in the morning watching Never Been Kissed with Drew Barrymore. It was a BLAST. [NOTE: This is the dumbest movie I have ever seen. I do not recommend it.]

Rachel, Miriam, Me

Welcome, Explanation, and Embarrassing Story

Hello! I am now an official part of the "blogosphere." That small fact makes me experience many emotions, some of which include:

Nausea
Excitement

Maturity

And whatever it is that REEEEALLY old people feel all the time.

Despite these mixed feelings of mine, I'm glad that you are all hear to share them with me. Welcome.

EXPLANATION: I have a blog for one reason: my mom wanted me to. Done.

Now to the bit everyone came for - the Embarrassing Story.

I am the pianist for my ward, and as such I try to get to church about fifteen minutes early find a hymnbook, play prelude, scope out the olda boys, etc. This past week, my plan was know different. I set my alarm for 8:30, and trusted it to go off then. [NOTE: This would have worked better had I not been up til about 1 o' clock the night before.]

So my alarm rings, I get up, and I jump in the shower. After said sh0wer, I wrap myself securely in a large towel and patter down the hall back to my room, only to discover that I've left my key on my desk. IN MY ROOM.

"No problem," I think while knocking on the door. "Rachel will just get the door for me." As I stood knocking, a strange gnawing began in my stomach. She wasn't answering. I screamed down the hall for a time update, and was greeted with "Fifty-three. NINE fifty-three."

Panic and confusion coursed through my veins as I realized I had SEVEN minutes to get to church, and I would probably have to go naked.

Fortunately, a nice girl I had never really met before realized my predicament and offered to let me wear her clothes, make-up, deodorant, and the like. However, she couldn't allow me to wear her contacts, so I would still have to be totally blind. Meanwhile, I had at least three people sprinting to church to find my RA and tell her of my predicament so she could save me.

Once dressed in the stranger girl's garb, my RA came bolting down the hall, holding my room key aloft. I stuck my contacts in, and then together, my RA and I sprinted to church.

We sat down nonchalantly in the back while testimonies were being borne. As the closing hymn approached, my kind bishop got up to thank everyone for there testimonies. "Thank you," he said. "It would appear that our PREVIOUSLY STRANDED pianist, MEGAN MINGLEDORFF, has arrived now. We'd like to invite her UP TO THE FRONT to play our closing hymn."

I think my face was purple with shame and humiliation. It also could have been because I had uttered a very audible gasp of astonishment, and in the process, pumped three liters of saliva down my windpipe. As a staggered to the piano, I could feel all the accusing eyes my back, staring at the clothes that weren't mine.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Roommates are not dependable EVER and if you do something dumb, you should blame it on anyone other than yourself.