Cleanliness is Next to Godliness

There are so, so many problems with the way BYU does student housing. For example, their policy that all students have to live in "BYU aproved housing" or the fact that they charge us by room.

But I think the worst housing policy is the cleaning checks.

Since coming to BYU in 2009, I have lived in four different apartment complexes, each with their own version of cleaning checks.

Some were great and acted more as a routine maintenance check.

Some just sucked (ahem... Bountiful Court).

This month's cleaning check at the Riviera was the most ridiculous yet. When we got back from break, we found a notice on our door saying that cleaning checks were going to be super strict from now on and "Happy New Year!"

Last week we got our cleaning check forms in the mail. We were scheduled for checks on Tuesday between 8 and 9 p.m. At 8 o'clock sharp, we were ready. The apartment was immaculate. We waited until 9 to touch anything.

We didn't eat. We didn't shower. We didn't go to sleep.

9 o'clock came... and went... so did 10... and 11.

Finally we all just called it a night and went to bed. Before I fell asleep I put my cleaning check form on my desk.

At 9 a.m. the next morning, I woke up. My first conscious thought was, "I wonder what's going to happen with cleaning checks?" Automatically, I looked over at my form.

It wasn't there.

I didn't think too much of this. Grabbing my computer, I proceeded to check my Facebook, Twitter, email, etc. That's when I saw my roommate's status:

Waking up to a strange lady in your room. Creepy! Can I say, cleaning check lady, your're almost 8 hours late!!!!! And we are all sleeping!!!!!! Gosh! I had more time to sleep! This was not ok. .... Not ok at all.

Slowly, it began to dawn on me. About two hours before I woke up there had been a complete stranger in my bedroom poking around for signs of dust and dirt.

NOT OKAY.

A few of my roommates and I went over to the office to discuss our concerns. They apologized profusely and swore it wouldn't happen again.

Still- there's got to be a better way, BYU.

Carpe the Hell Out of This Diem

Yesterday, at about 5 PM, I was walking out of the Harold B. Lee Library and walking to my Doctrine and Covenants class. I had just finished a 5 page research paper on Lucy Mack Smith that I had only started that morning at about 10. I had achieved this, while still maintaining perfect attendance for the day, taking a Spanish Exam (which I got an 85% on), and going to work for 4 hours. As an added bonus, I had my gym clothes packed in my bag, so there was a very high chance I was actually going to work out later that day. As I made my way to the Joseph Smith building this image came to mind:

Thank you, Pinterest. I think I just did.

I was feeling pretty invincible. I got my phone out so that I could tweet my awesomeness to the world.

That's when I caught sight of my reflection in the window of the building I was walking past. And then I remembered, I looked like a hot mess.

My hair was in a nasty ponytail that was somehow both greasy and frizzy at the same time, which went well with the previous day's makeup. I was wearing an old pair of jeans, vans, and possibly the most unflattering sweater in my closet. Why the ugly clothes? I hadn't done laundry in a couple of weeks. My mind didn't stop there. I contemplated how my breakfast and lunch consisted of a single can of Pringles, and how I was on my way to grab some pretzels out of the vending machine to go with my diet Dr. Pepper. Dinner of champions.

In that moment, I was reminded of my own mortality, or Liz Lemon-ness if you will. Life is a great exchange, and you can't have everything. Yesterday, I guess I chose grades over beauty.

But, since I didn't run into anyone important and I did make it to the gym, I'm still going to call yesterday a success.

Tie a Yellow Ribbon 'Round the Ole Oak Tree

Have you seen the Google today? I ran across it at work and I teared up a little.


Almost 5 years ago my mom, my siblings, and I spent a Saturday morning tying yellow ribbon in the four trees on our front lawn.

We filled every tree, using a ladder to reach the highest branches.

We did this because later in the week, dad was finally coming home from Iraq!

A year before, we were getting ready to say goodbye. My mom remembers...

The worst part of Paul's deployment to Iraq was the weeks leading up to him leaving.  I started clenching my jaw.  I could hardly open my mouth which turned out to be convenient because I wasn't hungry.  It was terrifying to me to try and plan for every possible eventuality.    "What if I need a new car?" "What is the plan if I am hurt or killed while Paul is gone?"  "What is the plan if . . .?"  It was too much.   In a way it was a relief the day he left.  Finally!  We can get on with this and get it over with!  I dropped him off at the 4th Infantry Division Building, drove home and slept for four hours.  
 
It was about a week before dad was leaving, maybe it was just a few days.  Paul and I drove to Ft. Hood.  We were running errands and taking care of last minute things.  I think that day we needed to update a power of attorney or something like that.  Anyway, we were at the intersection just before the train tracks on South Ft. Hood Street and Business 1-90.  Before the light turned green the railroad crossing bars came down and we knew we were going to be sitting there awhile.  On the radio the DJ announced that the next song was "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas".  Bing Crosby sang and we were sad.  What we were enduring didn't feel little or merry.  Then he sang the words.  "A year from now our troubles will be out of sight."  It is a powerful but unhappy memory. 

I remember the train and the song and the pressure and crying into my hands, praying that Paul and I would be up to the tasks we were facing.  

That year we decorated our house in blue and silver for Christmas, instead of red and gold, and had a Blue Christmas. It was a rough year, but it ended with the safe return of our soldier.

So, on Veteran's Day, I think about those who have fought and who are fighting. But I also think of the wives and children who are eagerly counting down the days, those who are saying their goodbyes, and those who are in between, just praying not to hear bad news today.

But mostly, I think of my dad.

Tubthumping

This is Paul.

Paul is my little brother. I beat him to Earth by 1 year, 1 month, and 1 day. He has tried to defeat me at every other race since he was born.
He usually wins.
Paul is also my best friend. He left in June to serve a 2-year mission for the LDS church. He's now in Mexico City. We get an email from him every Monday, but that's all the communication we get. The day he left, I took work off and skipped class. I came home from dropping him off at the MTC, curled up in my bed, and fell asleep watching his favorite movie: Scott Pilgrim vs The World. It was better than crying to sleep, I guess. I miss him a lot.


This is Jen.

Jen was my neighbor all last year. She and I became really good friends, and I can honestly say she's the closest friend I've had (outside of my family) for a very long time. I couldn't tell you when our friendship began. She was friends with the girls I was rooming with, so we all hung out a lot. But by Christmas she knew everything about me and I knew that I could trust her with anything. By knowing her, I've grown into what I consider a better person. In July, she left for a mission, like Paul. She's in Oklahoma City now. I have less contact with her than I do with Paul because she isn't family.

This is Stephanie.

Stephanie is three years older than me. When I was a freshman in high school, she was a senior and that's when we became friends. We were part of a very small youth group at this time, so we were thrown together before school started. We remained friends throughout the school year, and we are still friends six years later, despite the fact that we've only seen each other a few times since she graduated. I've always looked up to her as a hero. Steph just returned from a mission in Argentina in April. This past weekend we were reunited and spent Saturday catching up and revisiting old friends. She left for Virginia the next day. She'll be returning to Idaho for school in the fall. Who knows when we'll meet next?


Growing up in the military, I'm used to fleeting friendships and many goodbyes. Things change, and I like to think I'm a fairly adaptable human being. But there is something so much harder about saying goodbye, when you're not going anywhere. Right now, I feel like I'm being left behind. These three people are the most major examples of why I feel this way, but there's more. A wave of roommates and friends who are graduating, leaving on missions, or getting married has hit me hard. It's the reason that I moved to an apartment complex where I didn't know anybody. Everyone I cared about had plans that couldn't involve me. And now, I'm moving out of this ward and complex that I have grown to love over the past five months. My new friends are staying, and though I'm only moving one mile away, I know it's not likely that I will find time to visit once fall starts. Move-out day is this Saturday, and despite years of learning to say goodbye, I still find myself knocked down and depressed by this fact.


This is Marissa.

Marissa was one of my roommates during my freshman year of college. She and I bonded instantly after an incident involving Asian Aerobics and some salsa. We've remained pretty close ever since. She and I will be moving in together in fall. She is so much fun and I love her like crazy. I can't wait to be her roommate again! There will be much partying and watching of Modern Family.


This is Alex.

She has been my roommate this Spring and Summer. I adore this girl. Though we'll only be roommates for a few more weeks, we've planned many adventures to cram into our limited time frame.


This is Janelle.

She is another dear friend of mine from last year. She did a study abroad program in Europe this summer. She got back in June, but she's been living it up in Idaho since then. She is moving into the complex that I am moving out of in Fall. I'm super jealous, but I know that the mile distance won't stop us from partying. I'm way excited to see her again.


This is the Stanley family.

Salem is my mom's youngest brother and one of my favorite uncles. He is my favorite, mostly because he married Megan- one of the coolest people I have ever met. They just moved their family to Provo so that Salem could do the MBA program at BYU. Megan is super athletic. We have plans to hike Timpanogas and run the Man vs Mud race in September. I'm so excited to have them so close.

Everything is going to be great.

Falling Without Much Style

I have lived in Utah Valley for two years now. I have been on a grand total of seven hikes during that time. Not too shabby, right? Except that four of those hikes have been to the BYU's Y mountain. Does that seem a little pathetic to anyone else? Hike five was up to the Timpanogas Caves and hike six was to Stuart Falls. Neither of these are very grueling. Each is made up of a nice, slowly sloping path leading to some picturesque view. But hike number seven was what I've wanted out of a hike since I moved to Provo, Utah.

It was Pioneer Day weekend (a three-day weekend in Utah) and my roommate Alex and I decided it was time to get off our butts and go do something. We decided a morning hike would be lovely. After surfing the web for good Utah Valley hikes we decided on Bridal Falls. We convinced our other roommate, Celia, and our friends Kevin and Cameron to come with us. The website said that the hike's difficulty was "medium". The website was probably right, but I don't think we took the right path. We kind of just found our way up to the falls. This included a lot of climbing and precarious balancing, but it wasn't that bad and the falls were beautiful!

Of course, we had to come down eventually. The first problem with this is that we couldn't quite remember what our path was coming up. The second was that our climbing and scaling wasn't all that hard going up. Going down was a problem. After wandering and backtracking around the mountain, we found ourselves sliding/ scaling down a long and steep slope of loose shale rock.

Let me note that, before this point in the hike, Alex and I had both nearly fallen to our deaths.

Alex was behind me and we were walking across a ledge that was pretty solid at the top, but created a dirt slope down to a rocky cliff. As we carefully went across, I heard Alex lose her footing. I turned and saw her clawing at the dirt to stop her slip off the edge. She did, but as she slipped, I watched knowing that there was nothing I could do to save her. Scratched and bruised, Alex got back to the solid part of the path, and we continued our search for the way down.

If that didn't shake me up enough, my near-death experience took care of the problem. Some minutes later we found ourselves on a different ledge with lots of loose rock and no slope before the drop-off. Somewhere in the middle, the rock shifted below my feet and I lost all balance. There was a crack in the wall we were walking against and I managed to grab this before I fell. It felt like my shoulder had been pulled out of the socket. It took me a few seconds before I could move it again- I think this was just because I was so shaken. But I was back on my feet, so we kept moving.

As we all shimmied down the loose shale rock, we separated into three groups. Alex and Cameron were the fastest in getting down. Celia and Kevin brought up the rear, working together to find the best way down. I was flying solo, somewhere in between. This was pretty scary. Each step was a gamble and if you weren't holding on to something secure, you pretty much just had to hope that your foot would find something secure, or that you would find anything to hold on to before you slid too far.

We all made it down, scratched up and bruised. As the last of us stepped off of the mountain and on to the road back to the car, we all looked at each other and just laughed. We knew that we just did something stupid. We knew that our parents would freak if they knew. We knew that we shouldn't let this make us think we're invincible.

But that didn't stop Alex and I from making plans to go paragliding.