a tale of two parking spots

The following vignette illustrates how my day is going.

But first, some key background facts:

1. I am kind of really anal about parking straight. It MUST be done. 

2. I am a fairly recent convert to backing in instead of pulling in when parking. My backing in skills were pretty much nonexistent until a few months ago, because I'd just really never bothered to hone them. I now consider myself more-than-competent at backing in. 

So there I was, casually driving to work and minding my own business. The fact that I was on my way to work at all was a miracle because I was grumpy and tired and just wanted to stay in bed all day. The knowledge that we have quite the impressive stash of Reese's Cups at the office was really the only thing that motivated me to get ready and go. (And the whole I-need-money-and-I-like-this-job thing. But it was mostly the Reese's Cups.) And on top of my I-don't-want-to-move attitude, I had to search for my keys for a frustratingly long time. (They had somehow fallen behind my bed. Don't ask.) 

When I pulled into the parking lot, I thought that things were looking up. I found a primo spot, and was quick to back in lest any other parking spot searcher zoom in and take it. So I backed in. And I was crooked. So I straightened out. And I was still crooked. So I straightened out again. And again. And again. AND I WAS STILL CROOKED. 

At this point, I was exceptionally frustrated. I NEEDED to be parked straight, and I knew that I wasn't that incompetent when it comes to parking. Just as I was about to attempt once again to straighten out I glanced over and actually looked at the line instead of the car next to me, which I'd been using as an anchor point. 

And that's when I realized that the car next to me was parked crooked. And since that was the only point of reference I'd been using, every time I pulled in straight, I thought I was crooked. But I wasn't.

And then I just took a minute to sit in my car and balk in my ridiculousness before gathering my things, getting out of the car, and going in to work. 

letters

Today I wrote five letters. 

One to an influential elementary school teacher who—aside from my parents—was the most beneficial and appreciated guide in my road to loving the written word—both reading it and creating it. It was a letter of thanks, of reflection, of exploration. It was a letter that I hoped would express even just a portion of the gratitude I have for her dedication to teaching students to love learning and to be confident in themselves and their abilities. It was a letter that told her that her work does not go unnoticed nor unappreciated.

Past

One to my dear Sister Aase—it was a letter I've been sporadically adding scrawled sentences and paragraphs to over the course of a week and a half or so, but kept forgetting to send. I put the final touches on the letter, sealed in in an envelope with Hedwig sitting serenely in the top right corner, and slipped it in the mailbox to be picked up on Monday. It was a letter laced with obscure Harry Potter trivia and random thoughts that deserved being labeled with #onlymaddieunderstands. It said I miss you, I'm proud of you, and gee, doesn't time fly?

Present

The last three to faceless HR employees and internship directors whose offices are situated somewhere on the East Coast. These were sent electronically, and unlike the other letters I hand wrote today, they are already in somebody's inbox waiting to be read or ignored. I like to think that the recipients will slide into their office chairs on Monday, boot up their computers, and be delighted to find my cover letter and résumé patiently waiting to be opened and read. These letters attempt to show my knowledge of the company. They explain why I want the job and why I think I'm a good fit. (These letters are the hardest to write.) But realistically I know that a quick fifteen-second glance before going into the recycle bin is the most these three letters are likely to get. (But don't worry, I'll be writing more of these and distributing them across states and cities. I'm nowhere near ready to throw in the towel.)

Future

Today I wrote five letters. 

past

present

future

from the mouth of a four-year-old

Today while I was at work, a fellow BYUB employee stopped by to help fix an issue on my coworker's computer. Normally this wouldn't be a blog worthy event, but he happened to have his adorable four-year-old in tow, and she took quite the liking to me. The opening line of our friendship was a hearty "That's my dad!" while pointing to her father. I knew after that moment that our brief friendship would be worth recording.

On Disneyland and Education
Four-year-old: We're going to Disneyland!
Me: Wow, that sounds fun. I've never been to Disneyland.
FYO: You should come with us!
Me: Well I have to go to school.
FYO: [in a "oh, you silly person" tone of voice] Well we're not going today! We're going in four days!
Me: I still have school then.
FYO: Oh. That's a lot of school.

On Carpet Colors
[looking at the carpet] We have carpet too! It's rainbow colored. Except not upstairs. We didn't paint it rainbow there. Upstairs it's the color of skin.

On Foliage
FYO: [looking at a fish tank on a nearby desk] Is there a fish in there?
Me: I don't know. Why don't you go check.
FYO: [after inspecting the fish tank more closely] No fish. Just trees.

On the Wonders of Fast Food
FYO: Have you ever been to McDonald's?
Me: Yeah, I have.
FYO: Have you been to the new McDonald's?
Me: ....yes?
FYO: It's by grandma and grandpa's house. It has a play place!
Me: I'm too big to go to the play place.
FYO: Oh, that's sad. Have you ever been to the WAY new McDonald's?

On Cereal Varieties
[very excited] I didn't know they had Fruit Loops like those ones! We only have regular Fruit Loops! These ones have special pieces. They're like the ones in Crunch Berries, but in Crunch Berries they're yellow and don't have cherry stuff in them.
(We have a box of Fruit Loop Treasures on the counter)

On Acquaintances
FYO: Do you know Bronson and Mara?
Me: Nope.
FYO:  [disappointed] Oh. They're my aunt and uncle.

On Spelling
FYO: Do you know how to spell Brianna?
Me: Yeah, I do. Is that your name?
FYO: [looking at me like I'm the dumbest person on the planet] No.
(I never did figure out why she wanted to know if I can spell Brianna.)

baby steps to graduation

Remember how I freaked out about graduation a few days ago?

Yeah, me neither.

But I'm officially on track to transition from student to alumnus. Alum?  Alumni? Aluminum? Latin is hard. I should have been paying better attention to Gilmore Girls the other day when Rory explained the difference to Lorelai.

ANYWAY, here's all the graduation preparation stuff I did this week:

> I called the Humanities Advisement Center to make sure that all my German classes for the foreign language requirement actually are in the system. They were on my transcript, but on MyMap, the requirement wasn't labeled complete. When I realized this, I freaked out, thinking I'd somehow not taken the right number of credits. Even after counting and recounting how many credits I'd taken many times, I was still convinced that I wasn't going to be able to graduate without more German classes. I was all "BUT I HAVEN'T TAKEN GERMAN IN OVER A YEAR, AND THE RMs IN MY LAST GERMAN CLASS TREATED ME LIKE I WAS STUPID EVEN THOUGH I WAS DOING BETTER IN THE CLASS THAN THEY WERE NONONONONONO!" Needless to say, I overreacted a tad bit. Shocker. But the nice lady at the advisement center not only confirmed that my foreign language credit was actually complete, but she also was kind enough to double check all my other requirements to ensure that I'm in tip-top shape for gradumicate. (I am! Yay!)

> I registered for my last semester of classes! Weird. I have two final classes for my major (one of which I've been dreading my entire college career...) and two classes all about children's literature! One is Children's Publishing, which is a class in my department that talks about all aspects of publishing in the world of kids' lit (everything from writing to illustrating to editing) and the other is a straight up children's literature class from the Elementary Education department. It only took a billion years to get in touch with them so that I could get an add code, but whatevs. I'm pumped. I'm also toying with the idea of taking a yoga or pilates class or something. I've avoided exercise classes for three and a half years now because group exercise makes me uncomfortable. But as I told my roommate the other day, I'm very, very good at staying in my comfort zone, so maybe its time for me to try breaking out of it a little. She agreed.

> I applied for graduation! It was much less dramatic than I was expecting, so I was a tiny bit disappointed. I was kind of hoping for some balloons or confetti or at least an 'atta girl! Instead they charged me 15 bucks. Lame.

It'd be a lie to say I'm not excited to be done with school. It's also a lie to say that I feel completely prepared to face life after I leave BYU. But it's okay. I'll figure it out. Somehow I will find my way.

And it'll be great.

ode to lissa and a road trip report

The day I moved into my freshman dorm, I met Lissa. And I didn't know it at the time, but she was about to change my life.

There isn't a specific incident or experience I could relate to you that would even begin to explain how she altered my world. Rather, it was a year and a half of example, testimony, and pure Lissa that made the difference. People who haven't met her can't begin to understand the incredible gentleness, kindness, and pure goodness that she embodies. I would try to explain it to you now, but I'm convinced that I couldn't do her any semblance of justice. 

Freshman year, Lissa and I spent a few quiet evenings together cooking dinner in dimmed lighting and silently doing homework side by side. It was rare that just the two of us were home, so I cherished those moments. Her presence is calming and comforting, and with her around, the most mundane tasks can become a cleansing experience. 

Then sophomore year, Lissa and I were roommates again, and that was when I truly realized what a blessing she was in my life. She has this way of making you think about yourself and about life. She asks hard questions that require deep introspection and insight and gives the most sincere, heartfelt compliments of any person I've ever met. And she is hysterical. Almost two years ago, I wrote about one of the most hilarious moments of my life. You may not think it was that funny, but I promise it was. I can think of very few times that I've laughed harder and longer than I did that night. 

A few weeks after I wrote that post, Lissa and I sat quietly in our bedroom in the late afternoon. The blinds were open, and the sun was warming Lissa's bed. She asked me to come over and in the sun with her, and she told me that she had decided to serve a mission as soon as possible. I remember being simultaneously overjoyed for her and sad that I'd be losing such an amazing roommate and friend. Eighteen months wasn't forever, but it was a long time to be without the person who left sweet notes on my bed and was impossibly patient with me and helped me find the good in situations I was convinced were terrible, horrible, no good, and very bad. 

But I decided to focus on the overyjoyed part, and I was even more excited when her mission call came and she found out she'd be off to the Philippines. 

And while she's been gone, she's continued to change my life. I'm a hoarder of cards and notes and such, and several times since she's left, I've come across several of the aforementioned notes that have perked me right up. Just last week I came across one that was particularly meaningful to me at the time, but more so now. It reminded me of the light and joy that I felt during a time that sometimes only looks bleak and painful when I look back on it. And even when I wasn't rereading her words to me, I would often remember a fun memory or a deeply insightful statement she'd once made, and I couldn't help but smile. 

And now I have even more reason to smile, because Lissa dear is home. 

So excited to see her !

Reunited and it feels so good! 

We (we being the the two guys we came up with [Paul and Marcel], Mellie, and me) had a lot of fun surprising Lissa. When we arrived in Meridian, she was at a family function, so we drove around aimlessly (exactly what you want to do after a six hour drive), had random dance parties in the street (which I didn't take part in), and visited the local grocery store. We were in contact with her siblings, though, so that we could arrive at the opportune moment. She had no idea we were coming, and the look on her face when she saw us standing in her doorway was absolutely priceless.

There are other things I could say, but this has already turned out much longer than I anticipated, and I like the idea of leaving things right there in Lissa's doorway, us giddy that our surprise was finally coming to fruition, and Lissa standing barefoot in the foyer holding a bowl of cereal.

So I will leave it just like that.