Five Months in Five Minutes

Hopefully my few faithful readers were filled with glee when this long-overdue blog post popped up at the top of that RSS feed list (or so I will imagine so). Yes, I suspect that you have all put aside exactly five minutes to see what I've been up to for the last five months. And if you don't even think the condensed version is worth an immediate read...I will dismiss you from the next five months (ie five minutes following the next five months) of my life. Don't let the parenthetical interruptions dissuade you, I really do want you reading (I'm desperate to regain your love!). Correction: this may take a bit more than five minutes. (Regaining your love?) Quiet brain!

Um, moving on...

For those of you that don't know that I was scheduled to student teach at Northwest Middle School in Salt Lake during the fall, and that I decided not to, you may be wondering how I felt about this decision, or how I feel about it in retrospect. Or you had no idea that such a decision took place, but that is okay. In answer, I felt good about it then, and I feel great about it now.

As relieved as I was to leave Logan and resolve that I was finally moving on with my life, I felt a greater sense of relief and peace when I decided to come back. Funny how that worked out. I decided that I wanted some time to relax and be social, and enjoy myself before the call for crunch time, graduation and career search and destroy loomed its ominous...dog whistle.

And so I settled back into Cache Valley, not to return to my job as a distance education facilitator, and not with plans to, honestly, accomplish much of anything except a chance at gaining perspective, peace of mind, and hope.

It's been a wonderful choice and experience, but I won't pretend to lay tribute to a bunch of minor aspects to it. I'll give all the credit to John. You have helped me gain the hope and confidence I need to be happy and successful in all that I do. I love you, my Pope! Thank you for being there for me every day since I've been back, and for showing me so much love!

Intra-ward Dating

Wow, I found this cover pretty audacious and disturbing. I'm sure that it is supposed to be funny. It reminds me of the times when I heard people referring to the directory as the "menu," and getting a bit unnerved. It makes me really not want to date anyone in my current ward. I'm actually going on a date tomorrow night with this guy in my ward, and I honestly have no idea where he got my number (as the directory has apartment numbers and not cell phone numbers). However, he is the ward clerk, so maybe he looked at my membership record or something. Um...haha, isn't there a disclaimer that says: "For church use only" on those things? It's cool, only light-hearted paranoia here. He's a nice guy, it will be fun. Plus, he's the sort that genuinely likes getting to know people, so I won't feel guilty that I'm not interested in more than that. And I shouldn't ever be, because that is good enough.

In the only conversation I can remember having with him he totally dismissed one of my passions, and didn't realize it. He asked me what my major was, and I said it was Biology. He then responded that he didn't think that Biology was a science. What?! It's like those people that don't think Mormons are Christians. It was ridiculous! Ah well, as long as he doesn't say that again, I'm sure I'll enjoy the date.

Of course, on the last date I went on I ended up crying...so, I'm sure a lot of future dates will go better than that. Although, I do cry a lot lately. Almost every other movie I watch makes me start to cry. Even First Contact. You know, the part where Captain Piccard goes back to save Data when the borg have taken over the ship, and everyone is evacuating? Data isn't even human, but he values their friendship. It was cute. And I cried three times during Les Miserables yesterday, in the first half hour alone. And I've seen it many times, and rarely done that. Although, that is "good crying"...which is a different emotion entirely.

Ah, I need a vacation. Spring break, hurra!