Posted by Braden
Checkouts . . . *sigh* . . . what a long, long week. It started out alright—only a few checkouts per night, mostly over the phone, not too much junk in the lobbies or overflowing from the dumpsters. Friday, though, was madness.
Of 13 boys' rooms, only two were ready for their final checkout walk-through at the time they scheduled. While I waited for the next room to be ready (as I was on duty and couldn't really leave my building to do anything else), I built architectural wonders out of the turned-in mattress pads. :) What did I care though that the boys were all late? I was on duty all day (with the exception of a few hours in the middle of the day for quick meal), and the rooms all needed to be done that night; I'd just do them all right in a row. And did. And it was painful.
For five hours I did deep-cleaning checks, recording the things that needed to be completed, the jobs that needed redoing, and the charges for boys who had already left, etc. You know that black mold that shows up on top of shower-curtain rods and seems to come by the pint? No? Well, neither did most of the boys in my hall. I usually had to get some on my finger first from checking it before telling them that the rod would need a quick scrubbing. And splashboards—oh, how I hate checking the splashboards!
Finally, Friday night at 10 p.m., the last of the walk-throughs were done. By 10 a.m. the next day, all of the boys were out of the building, and I had the rest of the day (until 6:30 p.m., when I finished) to prep the building for the next event for which housing was required: Women's Conference (talk about a tough crowd to satisfy in terms of cleanliness)! I put a blanket, mattress pad, and pillow on each bed, closed all the blinds, turned off all the lights, locked all the doors, filled out final work-order requests, collected all the things that boys forgot about or didn't realize that they'd forgotten (six boxes full of everything from posters to magnets to socks to pots). Lobby trash cans were emptied, leftover cleaning supplies taken to the central building, smoke alarms tested, and fire extinguishers checked. At last, at 6:30 p.m., I finished. FREEDOM!
In all sincerity, the RA job has been a blast all semester! I've loved the chances I've had to help my boys, plan programs, be involved, and learn people-management skills; but man, way to end with a bang . . . a somewhat painful, but relatively brief, bang.
Showing posts with label Braden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Braden. Show all posts
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Left Behind
Posted by Braden
The vast majority of the boys in my hall are going on missions this summer, and a lot of them live far from Provo. With no need for leftover spices, core ingredients, or kitchenware in the near future, many of them opted for the "I'll-just-give-it-to-DI-and-buy-more-when-I-get-back" option.
The result? Because I love my older sister, who agreed to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to drive me to the Salt Lake City airport for my flight home, I collected. A few pots, a few pans, a pie plate, a billion spatulas, wooden spoons, silverware, tupperware of every shape and size, a toaster, a nice track jacket, two sleeping bags, a new pillow, a laptop case—these are just a few of the things boys gave me as they were leaving, or things they left for me to pick up after they left. And then there was the food—from my apartment alone, my sister got roughly $250 of nonperishable foodstuffs: cans of vegetables, boxes of crackers, packs of hot pockets, jars of peanut butter, bags of marshmallows, stacks of ramen noodles, etc.
The advantage of leaving early? You don't have to throw away the stuff that nobody wanted, and cleaning jobs are a bit easier.
The advantage of leaving late? Lots and lots of free stuff.
The vast majority of the boys in my hall are going on missions this summer, and a lot of them live far from Provo. With no need for leftover spices, core ingredients, or kitchenware in the near future, many of them opted for the "I'll-just-give-it-to-DI-and-buy-more-when-I-get-back" option.
The result? Because I love my older sister, who agreed to wake up at 4:30 in the morning to drive me to the Salt Lake City airport for my flight home, I collected. A few pots, a few pans, a pie plate, a billion spatulas, wooden spoons, silverware, tupperware of every shape and size, a toaster, a nice track jacket, two sleeping bags, a new pillow, a laptop case—these are just a few of the things boys gave me as they were leaving, or things they left for me to pick up after they left. And then there was the food—from my apartment alone, my sister got roughly $250 of nonperishable foodstuffs: cans of vegetables, boxes of crackers, packs of hot pockets, jars of peanut butter, bags of marshmallows, stacks of ramen noodles, etc.
The advantage of leaving early? You don't have to throw away the stuff that nobody wanted, and cleaning jobs are a bit easier.
The advantage of leaving late? Lots and lots of free stuff.
Sleep Data Comparisons
Posted by Braden
I've got the stats on my winter sleep patterns! By themselves, the stats aren't too astounding. The comparison with fall semester is rather amusing, however.
The trend lines are the most interesting to me. Whereas fall semester saw bedtime gradually getting later and later throughout pretty much the entire year, winter semester remained fairly constant. And what's even more intriguing: both semesters had the same average bedtime (1 a.m.-ish) over the course of the semester! At the start of fall semester I was going to bed early, then I realized that I could stay out later and later until my average bedtime was around 2 a.m. By winter semester I knew approximately what I could handle, and I stayed nearer to that bedtime pretty much all semester.
Looking at the day-by-day comparison, in fall semester, my bedtime gradually got later each night from Monday up to the weekend. In winter semester, I started out the week going to bed late, then got more sleep each night during the week until the weekend came, at which time I went to bed as late as I did fall semester.
I've got the stats on my winter sleep patterns! By themselves, the stats aren't too astounding. The comparison with fall semester is rather amusing, however.
The trend lines are the most interesting to me. Whereas fall semester saw bedtime gradually getting later and later throughout pretty much the entire year, winter semester remained fairly constant. And what's even more intriguing: both semesters had the same average bedtime (1 a.m.-ish) over the course of the semester! At the start of fall semester I was going to bed early, then I realized that I could stay out later and later until my average bedtime was around 2 a.m. By winter semester I knew approximately what I could handle, and I stayed nearer to that bedtime pretty much all semester.
Looking at the day-by-day comparison, in fall semester, my bedtime gradually got later each night from Monday up to the weekend. In winter semester, I started out the week going to bed late, then got more sleep each night during the week until the weekend came, at which time I went to bed as late as I did fall semester.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Final Food Showdown
Posted by Braden
With checkouts around the corner and lots of leftover food in our cupboards, our ward decided to organize a potluck Thursday night before a lot of students went home for the summer. I was expecting stale, half-opened bags of chips and straggling Hot Pockets. I forgot to consider that these same students also had meal plan money that needed using up, so instead of a "junk-food, leftovers" meal, we had a smorgasbord! Smoked salmon, funeral potatoes, lasagna, garlic bread, macaroni and cheese, a 3-gallon tub of ice cream, sloppy joes, etc! What a delicious meal! I think that meal had more variety than any other I've had all freshman year, except, perhaps, for when I ate at the Cannon Center, but it would certainly be a close call.
With checkouts around the corner and lots of leftover food in our cupboards, our ward decided to organize a potluck Thursday night before a lot of students went home for the summer. I was expecting stale, half-opened bags of chips and straggling Hot Pockets. I forgot to consider that these same students also had meal plan money that needed using up, so instead of a "junk-food, leftovers" meal, we had a smorgasbord! Smoked salmon, funeral potatoes, lasagna, garlic bread, macaroni and cheese, a 3-gallon tub of ice cream, sloppy joes, etc! What a delicious meal! I think that meal had more variety than any other I've had all freshman year, except, perhaps, for when I ate at the Cannon Center, but it would certainly be a close call.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Camping Indoors
Posted by Braden
My friends and I have really enjoyed going to Divine Comedy shows this year. Divne Comedy's amazingly huge popularity makes getting front-row seats rather difficult, however. How did we remedy this problem? With a tent. And pizza. And cards. And gummy worms. and marshmallows. And a lot of spare time.
We showed up just before 5 p.m. for the 7 p.m. show and set up camp. The time really flew by after that, and we were first in line! I think my friend Tom summed it up best:
Renting a tent: $7
Ordering two pizzas and having them delivered to the JSB lobby: $12
Buying a Divine Comedy ticket: $5
The look we just got from that kid over there: Priceless
My friends and I have really enjoyed going to Divine Comedy shows this year. Divne Comedy's amazingly huge popularity makes getting front-row seats rather difficult, however. How did we remedy this problem? With a tent. And pizza. And cards. And gummy worms. and marshmallows. And a lot of spare time.
We showed up just before 5 p.m. for the 7 p.m. show and set up camp. The time really flew by after that, and we were first in line! I think my friend Tom summed it up best:
Renting a tent: $7
Ordering two pizzas and having them delivered to the JSB lobby: $12
Buying a Divine Comedy ticket: $5
The look we just got from that kid over there: Priceless
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Allergic to Goodbyes
Posted by Braden
Goodbyes are in the air, and it's making me nauseous. Really, I can't go anywhere or do anything these days without somebody making a comment like:
"This is the last time we'll ever do this!"
"I wonder if all of us will ever be in the same place again. . ."
"Man, I'm going to really miss this class."
"Do you remember that time we [insert nostalgic moment here]?"
Sure, anybody/everybody is allowed to be a little bit sad that things are going to change in the very near future, but do they really have to? All the crying and tender moments . . . there haven't been TOO many instances yet, but I'm sure it'll get worse as the week goes on and people start leaving.
Cold and heartless as this sounds, I really kind of wish the semester could just end and we would all go home. If you haven't said something important to a particular someone yet, then why in the world should they believe you when you say it right before you leave them for a few months or a couple years? And then there's that awkwardness about how to say goodbye: Do you give everyone a hug? What if you don't know them very well? Do you give them a handshake? No, that's awkward and lame. Do you give them a high five? What if they think you're going in for a hug after all and then it turns into one of those awkward, sort-of-caught-me-by-surprise hugs? And must we really hear all of those old yearbook signature messages again?! "Have a great summer!" "I'm glad I met you!" "Don't change!" OK, so people don't ACTUALLY say stuff like that very much anymore, but you can almost taste the forced goodbye awkwardness in the air sometimes.
And what's worse—I'm not leaving until the very, very end of the week, so I'm going to have to bear the full brunt of this somewhat painful experience! Maybe if I lock myself in my room as soon as I finish finals and only come out to use the microwave and the restroom, I can avoid it all!
In all actuality, I'll probably just have to tough it out, day by painstakingly sappy, goodbye-full day. *sigh* Wish me luck.
Goodbyes are in the air, and it's making me nauseous. Really, I can't go anywhere or do anything these days without somebody making a comment like:
"This is the last time we'll ever do this!"
"I wonder if all of us will ever be in the same place again. . ."
"Man, I'm going to really miss this class."
"Do you remember that time we [insert nostalgic moment here]?"
Sure, anybody/everybody is allowed to be a little bit sad that things are going to change in the very near future, but do they really have to? All the crying and tender moments . . . there haven't been TOO many instances yet, but I'm sure it'll get worse as the week goes on and people start leaving.
Cold and heartless as this sounds, I really kind of wish the semester could just end and we would all go home. If you haven't said something important to a particular someone yet, then why in the world should they believe you when you say it right before you leave them for a few months or a couple years? And then there's that awkwardness about how to say goodbye: Do you give everyone a hug? What if you don't know them very well? Do you give them a handshake? No, that's awkward and lame. Do you give them a high five? What if they think you're going in for a hug after all and then it turns into one of those awkward, sort-of-caught-me-by-surprise hugs? And must we really hear all of those old yearbook signature messages again?! "Have a great summer!" "I'm glad I met you!" "Don't change!" OK, so people don't ACTUALLY say stuff like that very much anymore, but you can almost taste the forced goodbye awkwardness in the air sometimes.
And what's worse—I'm not leaving until the very, very end of the week, so I'm going to have to bear the full brunt of this somewhat painful experience! Maybe if I lock myself in my room as soon as I finish finals and only come out to use the microwave and the restroom, I can avoid it all!
In all actuality, I'll probably just have to tough it out, day by painstakingly sappy, goodbye-full day. *sigh* Wish me luck.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Delinquent Party
Posted by Braden
On Saturday we had our last big get-together with everyone before people start heading for home, missions, summer jobs, the rest of their lives, etc. And at this party we did whatever sounded fun while still being legal and safe-ish. We ate lots of junk food. We massacred a pinata. We launched a Reeses cup 60 yards at DT field. And we made sugar bombs. :)
Sugar bombs are wonderful things. You stick a boatload of powdered sugar in your mouth, somebody lights a match, and you blow. Pretty pictures result. And honestly, what else could we have done with all of our leftover powdered sugar? It was fun seeing everybody one last time. We'll probably most definitely never all be together again. At least we each have our own picture of spewing fire to remember the night by.
On Saturday we had our last big get-together with everyone before people start heading for home, missions, summer jobs, the rest of their lives, etc. And at this party we did whatever sounded fun while still being legal and safe-ish. We ate lots of junk food. We massacred a pinata. We launched a Reeses cup 60 yards at DT field. And we made sugar bombs. :)
Sugar bombs are wonderful things. You stick a boatload of powdered sugar in your mouth, somebody lights a match, and you blow. Pretty pictures result. And honestly, what else could we have done with all of our leftover powdered sugar? It was fun seeing everybody one last time. We'll probably most definitely never all be together again. At least we each have our own picture of spewing fire to remember the night by.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Only in a BYU Ward
Posted by Braden
On Sunday everyone in my ward stood up, raised their right hands to thank everybody for their service, then sat back down without callings. It was kind of fun! Of course, the bishop made a disclaimer: "This is not how it's normally done and not how it normally should be done, but our special circumstances make it necessary and we've been approved to do it this way."
Looking back, a lot of things about the way this ward has been run have been like that! We don't have a primary. For the first two or three weeks, nobody under the age of 40 in the ward had callings. There is not a single widow in the ward for whom the nonexistent scout troop can rake leaves or the imaginary young women can bring cookies. Excluding the bishopric, it takes two minutes to walk from one end of our ward boundaries to the other (assuming you start and end on the third floor of the respective buildings). Ward budget comes by the semester rather than by the year. Ward prayer is, of course, something that's not done in a regular ward. Every once in a while, on a weekend where not very many people are expected to be around (Thanksgiving, Christmas, beginning and ending of semesters, etc.), we have church as a stake instead of a ward, even though it's not time for a stake conference.
It's been fun being in a temporary ward made up of a specific demographic (18- and 19-year-old college students). Thank goodness I get to do it three more times at least!
On Sunday everyone in my ward stood up, raised their right hands to thank everybody for their service, then sat back down without callings. It was kind of fun! Of course, the bishop made a disclaimer: "This is not how it's normally done and not how it normally should be done, but our special circumstances make it necessary and we've been approved to do it this way."
Looking back, a lot of things about the way this ward has been run have been like that! We don't have a primary. For the first two or three weeks, nobody under the age of 40 in the ward had callings. There is not a single widow in the ward for whom the nonexistent scout troop can rake leaves or the imaginary young women can bring cookies. Excluding the bishopric, it takes two minutes to walk from one end of our ward boundaries to the other (assuming you start and end on the third floor of the respective buildings). Ward budget comes by the semester rather than by the year. Ward prayer is, of course, something that's not done in a regular ward. Every once in a while, on a weekend where not very many people are expected to be around (Thanksgiving, Christmas, beginning and ending of semesters, etc.), we have church as a stake instead of a ward, even though it's not time for a stake conference.
It's been fun being in a temporary ward made up of a specific demographic (18- and 19-year-old college students). Thank goodness I get to do it three more times at least!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Bonuses
Posted by Braden
So today I went to the bookstore to sell back some of my textbooks, not really expecting any of them to be taken. One of my professors had said he was almost done with a new edition of the book, and that class only has one section available in spring term, so I figured that if the book was returnable, the quota would fill really quickly. Another professor told me that this was his last semester using our current book, and I knew that one of the other two professors who teach that course was already using a different book, so I didn't think the Bookstore would be accepting it. On top of that, I bought this book online, and it showed up in pretty bad condition. With a few well-placed pieces of packing tape, I had it looking much neater, but still, I didn't think I'd be able to return it. But then, surprise! I left the Wilkinson Center with $133 of cold cash in my pocket. It was like finding a quarter on the sidewalk, or reaching into the pocket of a jacket you haven't worn for a while and finding a dollar bill . . . only like 532x or 133x better! Better yet—I bought both of those books used, one for $20 before selling it back for $50 today, and the other for $55, which I sold back for $83! What a wonderful, beautiful thing. :)
So today I went to the bookstore to sell back some of my textbooks, not really expecting any of them to be taken. One of my professors had said he was almost done with a new edition of the book, and that class only has one section available in spring term, so I figured that if the book was returnable, the quota would fill really quickly. Another professor told me that this was his last semester using our current book, and I knew that one of the other two professors who teach that course was already using a different book, so I didn't think the Bookstore would be accepting it. On top of that, I bought this book online, and it showed up in pretty bad condition. With a few well-placed pieces of packing tape, I had it looking much neater, but still, I didn't think I'd be able to return it. But then, surprise! I left the Wilkinson Center with $133 of cold cash in my pocket. It was like finding a quarter on the sidewalk, or reaching into the pocket of a jacket you haven't worn for a while and finding a dollar bill . . . only like 532x or 133x better! Better yet—I bought both of those books used, one for $20 before selling it back for $50 today, and the other for $55, which I sold back for $83! What a wonderful, beautiful thing. :)
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Boy Band
Posted by Braden
My ward had another talent show as part of our final activity for the year. My old roommates, whom I sang with at the last talent show, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to perform again, so we prepared and performed "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. Now, performing "boy band" music at a ward talent show is not an original idea. I've seen it done before plenty. But the boys never actually sing—they lip sync. We sang—in four-part a cappella sweetness—and the girls absolutely loved it, naturally. :)
The funniest part was seeing some of the boys dressed up for it. I have one roommate who is the farthest thing from punk possible. Thus, when he wore a sideways cap with a pink tie and a black shirt with a skull on it, a lot of people were quite surprised. He said a total of seven people came up and told him that they hardly even recognized him at first when he got on stage with us! And now that we've got our songs prepared, we're going to go lighten a few burnt-out peoples' days on Thursday by visiting them in their lobbies all "punked" out and ready to sing songs by their favorite group from middle school.
My ward had another talent show as part of our final activity for the year. My old roommates, whom I sang with at the last talent show, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to perform again, so we prepared and performed "I Want It That Way" by the Backstreet Boys. Now, performing "boy band" music at a ward talent show is not an original idea. I've seen it done before plenty. But the boys never actually sing—they lip sync. We sang—in four-part a cappella sweetness—and the girls absolutely loved it, naturally. :)
The funniest part was seeing some of the boys dressed up for it. I have one roommate who is the farthest thing from punk possible. Thus, when he wore a sideways cap with a pink tie and a black shirt with a skull on it, a lot of people were quite surprised. He said a total of seven people came up and told him that they hardly even recognized him at first when he got on stage with us! And now that we've got our songs prepared, we're going to go lighten a few burnt-out peoples' days on Thursday by visiting them in their lobbies all "punked" out and ready to sing songs by their favorite group from middle school.
Monday, April 12, 2010
The Best Two Weeks
Posted by Braden
The best part of every semester is the last two weeks, when all of your projects are turned in, teachers have stopped assigning homework, classes slow down or stop altogether, and you've got nothing left but a few finals to worry about! Some people fret and squirm and say finals are terrible, but the way I see it, we've been taking exams all year—it's just that this time, they actually give us time to study for them! LOTS of time! Two reading days would be enough for me to do all of my studying, since I make sure to review past material all semester. That leaves five days of finals where I have no commitments whatsoever with the exception of maybe a two- or three-hour chunk of time when I have an exam. What a lot of playtime! I never feel bad for not being more productive either, because I can't possibly work ahead in any of my classes. I can't go home either—not until all of my exams are over. So I take my one exam for the day, then hang out with friends, pack stuff, go for a walk, go to the temple, read a book, or do whatever else I feel like with no guilt or reservations that I'm not accomplishing anything for school. What a wonderful couple of weeks these are going to be!
The best part of every semester is the last two weeks, when all of your projects are turned in, teachers have stopped assigning homework, classes slow down or stop altogether, and you've got nothing left but a few finals to worry about! Some people fret and squirm and say finals are terrible, but the way I see it, we've been taking exams all year—it's just that this time, they actually give us time to study for them! LOTS of time! Two reading days would be enough for me to do all of my studying, since I make sure to review past material all semester. That leaves five days of finals where I have no commitments whatsoever with the exception of maybe a two- or three-hour chunk of time when I have an exam. What a lot of playtime! I never feel bad for not being more productive either, because I can't possibly work ahead in any of my classes. I can't go home either—not until all of my exams are over. So I take my one exam for the day, then hang out with friends, pack stuff, go for a walk, go to the temple, read a book, or do whatever else I feel like with no guilt or reservations that I'm not accomplishing anything for school. What a wonderful couple of weeks these are going to be!
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The Map
Posted by Braden
In our main lobby, posted above the fireplace in the center of the room, is THE MAP. This is the map that you check periodically to make sure that you haven't missed anybody opening their call. This is the map that you can't help but take a closer look at when you walk by, marveling at just how many places around the world the boys from our ward are being sent to. This is the map onto which I post a sticky note with your name on it when you get your mission call. This is THE MAP—our favorite hall decoration.
In our main lobby, posted above the fireplace in the center of the room, is THE MAP. This is the map that you check periodically to make sure that you haven't missed anybody opening their call. This is the map that you can't help but take a closer look at when you walk by, marveling at just how many places around the world the boys from our ward are being sent to. This is the map onto which I post a sticky note with your name on it when you get your mission call. This is THE MAP—our favorite hall decoration.
Friday, April 9, 2010
Waiting Impatiently
Posted by Braden
So getting a mission call is great! Waiting for your report date is terrible! Everybody said it was going to be so hard to focus on school after I got my call. It hasn't been too rough for me to stay focused . . . it's school—we've been in school for 14 years now. It's just going to kill me to have to wait two more months! I don't want to study baroque composers; I want to go sit in on a Russian class! I don't want to be designing fan parts on CAD systems; I want to be memorizing scriptures and discussions! I don't want to be in mission prep; I . . . oh wait, that class DOES feel relevant to my next two years! (It really is a rather wonderful class.) But man, am I excited to do nothing for 12 weeks but study Russian and the discussions! How fun! (I know you can't hear the lack of sarcasm in my voice just now, but really, I'm so stoked!)
Along those same lines, though, today at the temple, I walked by a district of missionaries on their way out, and they looked young! How in the world are these boys old enough or prepared enough to go out and teach for two years on their own with no adult supervision?! And some of them really ARE younger than me, since I had my 19th birthday a few months ago. Missionaries are going to look only younger and younger to me until the day I die. It's like how I remember being in second grade, looking up (literally) to the sixth graders. When I was finally a sixth grader, I didn't feel that big. Same thing happened in high school, looking at how much farther along in life/school seniors were than I. When I was finally a senior, I still felt young and not all that ready to go be "completely independent" (thank goodness I still don't really have to be). And now I'm in college, a soon-to-be missionary, and yep, I still feel young.
I wonder at what age I'll finally feel OLD?
So getting a mission call is great! Waiting for your report date is terrible! Everybody said it was going to be so hard to focus on school after I got my call. It hasn't been too rough for me to stay focused . . . it's school—we've been in school for 14 years now. It's just going to kill me to have to wait two more months! I don't want to study baroque composers; I want to go sit in on a Russian class! I don't want to be designing fan parts on CAD systems; I want to be memorizing scriptures and discussions! I don't want to be in mission prep; I . . . oh wait, that class DOES feel relevant to my next two years! (It really is a rather wonderful class.) But man, am I excited to do nothing for 12 weeks but study Russian and the discussions! How fun! (I know you can't hear the lack of sarcasm in my voice just now, but really, I'm so stoked!)
Along those same lines, though, today at the temple, I walked by a district of missionaries on their way out, and they looked young! How in the world are these boys old enough or prepared enough to go out and teach for two years on their own with no adult supervision?! And some of them really ARE younger than me, since I had my 19th birthday a few months ago. Missionaries are going to look only younger and younger to me until the day I die. It's like how I remember being in second grade, looking up (literally) to the sixth graders. When I was finally a sixth grader, I didn't feel that big. Same thing happened in high school, looking at how much farther along in life/school seniors were than I. When I was finally a senior, I still felt young and not all that ready to go be "completely independent" (thank goodness I still don't really have to be). And now I'm in college, a soon-to-be missionary, and yep, I still feel young.
I wonder at what age I'll finally feel OLD?
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Drinking from a Fire Hydrant
Posted by Braden
Today in mission prep, we got fried. The topic was "The Second Coming," and Brother Bott explained that he once gave a thorough lesson on it at Education Week, for which he was given three hours and was only able to present a tenth of the material he prepared; so today he had essentially 30 hours of information to give us in 50 minutes. He said it would be like drinking from a fire hydrant, so just try to survive and don't forget to gasp for a breath of air every once in a while. Well, I'd heard that sort of comment before—"We've got a lot to cover, so pay close attention because we're going to move fast." Bott is an extremely good teacher, and the subject material is particularly interesting, so I knew it'd be a good class.
Fifty minutes later, we finished, and we all just kind of sat there, fried. He finished with a comment like, "I'm sorry, that's probably the lousiest overview of the Second Coming you've ever had; we had to skip over so much!" And I left thinking, "Dang . . . that's probably the most thorough lesson on the Second Coming I've ever had." Talking to one girl after class, she said, "I had to sort of zone out there at the end to protect my finite little brain from exploding." And to think I get college credit for this fire-hydrant drink.
I feel so blessed to be at a college where I can have awesome religious classes like this from awesome religion professors like him every semester!
Today in mission prep, we got fried. The topic was "The Second Coming," and Brother Bott explained that he once gave a thorough lesson on it at Education Week, for which he was given three hours and was only able to present a tenth of the material he prepared; so today he had essentially 30 hours of information to give us in 50 minutes. He said it would be like drinking from a fire hydrant, so just try to survive and don't forget to gasp for a breath of air every once in a while. Well, I'd heard that sort of comment before—"We've got a lot to cover, so pay close attention because we're going to move fast." Bott is an extremely good teacher, and the subject material is particularly interesting, so I knew it'd be a good class.
Fifty minutes later, we finished, and we all just kind of sat there, fried. He finished with a comment like, "I'm sorry, that's probably the lousiest overview of the Second Coming you've ever had; we had to skip over so much!" And I left thinking, "Dang . . . that's probably the most thorough lesson on the Second Coming I've ever had." Talking to one girl after class, she said, "I had to sort of zone out there at the end to protect my finite little brain from exploding." And to think I get college credit for this fire-hydrant drink.
I feel so blessed to be at a college where I can have awesome religious classes like this from awesome religion professors like him every semester!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Surving April Fools'
Posted by Braden
Nothing strikes fear into the heart of a male RA like April Fools' Day! (Well, maybe there are a few things, but April 1 is definitely up there on the list.) Because boys like pranks. Boys feel extra prankish when away from home. College is designated as the "wild" time of one's life, when one does crazy, stupid things because one can. So I was pretty wary of the holiday designated for such endeavors. The night before and day of, I locked my door . . . and our front door . . . and the side door that we always leave unlocked. Consequently, I wasn't too worried about my own safety, just about the work that might come should any boys decide to do something in one of the lobbies or dorms that resulted in a mess that would need addressing or an incident report filled out. My saving grace proved to be the fact that we have a girls dorm across the way, and girls are more fun to prank than boys.
Mattresses were stolen, signs posted, beds relocated, food dyed funny colors, etc. But all in the girls' hall. *Sigh of relief.*
Nothing strikes fear into the heart of a male RA like April Fools' Day! (Well, maybe there are a few things, but April 1 is definitely up there on the list.) Because boys like pranks. Boys feel extra prankish when away from home. College is designated as the "wild" time of one's life, when one does crazy, stupid things because one can. So I was pretty wary of the holiday designated for such endeavors. The night before and day of, I locked my door . . . and our front door . . . and the side door that we always leave unlocked. Consequently, I wasn't too worried about my own safety, just about the work that might come should any boys decide to do something in one of the lobbies or dorms that resulted in a mess that would need addressing or an incident report filled out. My saving grace proved to be the fact that we have a girls dorm across the way, and girls are more fun to prank than boys.
Mattresses were stolen, signs posted, beds relocated, food dyed funny colors, etc. But all in the girls' hall. *Sigh of relief.*
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
The Unstuffing
Posted by Braden
And now for the unloading of the 34 boys after we'd shut the door. It took substantially less time and is vaguely (or perhaps not too vaguely) reminiscent of clowns getting out of a car at the circus:
And now for the unloading of the 34 boys after we'd shut the door. It took substantially less time and is vaguely (or perhaps not too vaguely) reminiscent of clowns getting out of a car at the circus:
The Stuffing
Posted by Braden
I don't know if this will work (I just copied and pasted the code for "embed this video" from Facebook), but this is what I've been up to lately: 5,534 lbs in a 5-cubic-yard room. Amazing!
I don't know if this will work (I just copied and pasted the code for "embed this video" from Facebook), but this is what I've been up to lately: 5,534 lbs in a 5-cubic-yard room. Amazing!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Living in a Pigsty
Posted by Braden
My apartment is not often very clean. My room is spotless; our kitchen is filthy. My roommates care less than I do about keeping everything in it's place and washing dishes immediately after they've been used—and one of them sleeps on the couch in the kitchen more often than he sleeps in his bed (literally; four of the past five nights he's been asleep in the kitchen when I come in for breakfast in the morning). Normally, living in dirtiness like that would drive me crazy! But it just doesn't seem worth it to try to change four other boys' living styles to accommodate my own, so I changed mine—I just never spend time in the kitchen. If I'm home, I'm in my room. When it IS mealtime, I go in, heat up my food, find a chair, scrape off a few square feet of the table to use, eat, put my food away, wash my dishes, put them back in my cupboard (I always use the same plate, bowl, cup, fork, knife, and spoon), and go back to my room. During that brief amount of time that I am in the kitchen, I try very hard to not pay attention to how filthy the kitchen is. Likewise with the fridge and freezer—I use one little corner on the bottom shelf of the fridge, and I keep my burritos in the back right corner of the freezer. Our fridge started to smell terribly from all of the old food the boys had left in it from previous meals, so one day they decided to clean it out. They found five Tupperware containers full of rotting food hidden throughout the fridge. Not starting-to-go-bad food—food already fuzzy and blueish-green.
Like I said, normally, living in such a way would drive me absolutely crazy. Instead, I retreat to my isolationist attitude of letting them live the way the four of them prefer to and finding my own little space to use that I keep separate (little pockets in the fridge, my own dishes, my own clean room, etc.) It's not the ideal way to live, but knowing that this is a temporary arrangement makes it all better. If these guys were my family or more-permanent roommates, that would not be so good, and we'd have to find a way to reach a long-term solution. I'm just really banking on the fact that my wife is going to be as compulsive about keeping a tidy house as I am!
My apartment is not often very clean. My room is spotless; our kitchen is filthy. My roommates care less than I do about keeping everything in it's place and washing dishes immediately after they've been used—and one of them sleeps on the couch in the kitchen more often than he sleeps in his bed (literally; four of the past five nights he's been asleep in the kitchen when I come in for breakfast in the morning). Normally, living in dirtiness like that would drive me crazy! But it just doesn't seem worth it to try to change four other boys' living styles to accommodate my own, so I changed mine—I just never spend time in the kitchen. If I'm home, I'm in my room. When it IS mealtime, I go in, heat up my food, find a chair, scrape off a few square feet of the table to use, eat, put my food away, wash my dishes, put them back in my cupboard (I always use the same plate, bowl, cup, fork, knife, and spoon), and go back to my room. During that brief amount of time that I am in the kitchen, I try very hard to not pay attention to how filthy the kitchen is. Likewise with the fridge and freezer—I use one little corner on the bottom shelf of the fridge, and I keep my burritos in the back right corner of the freezer. Our fridge started to smell terribly from all of the old food the boys had left in it from previous meals, so one day they decided to clean it out. They found five Tupperware containers full of rotting food hidden throughout the fridge. Not starting-to-go-bad food—food already fuzzy and blueish-green.
Like I said, normally, living in such a way would drive me absolutely crazy. Instead, I retreat to my isolationist attitude of letting them live the way the four of them prefer to and finding my own little space to use that I keep separate (little pockets in the fridge, my own dishes, my own clean room, etc.) It's not the ideal way to live, but knowing that this is a temporary arrangement makes it all better. If these guys were my family or more-permanent roommates, that would not be so good, and we'd have to find a way to reach a long-term solution. I'm just really banking on the fact that my wife is going to be as compulsive about keeping a tidy house as I am!
Monday, March 22, 2010
How Many Freshmen Can You Fit in a Closet-Size Room?
Posted by Braden
Yesterday, we fit these 28 manly men and one woman . . .
. . . into this 1 x 2 x 2.5–yard entryway between two apartments:
Why did we do it? Because we could. Because it was there. Because we got to talking one day--when five of us got in each other's way as we were walking in and out at the same time--and somebody thought out loud, "I wonder how many boys we could fit in here if we really tried?"
So Saturday night I collected a bunch of boys and we really tried. First we made two rows of boys and loaded them in. Then we tossed a boy on top. Then we loaded another couple rows of boys. We tossed another boy on top. We shoved some more boys in the entryway. Then we shoved a third and fourth boy on top. Then we found a way to fit a boy in under the legs of the other boys. Then we ran out of boys, so we grabbed a girl and stuffed her in there as well. Then we shut the door, for closure's sake.
We all climbed out, and the couple-dozen girls in the hallway, who'd been watching and taking pictures, counted as we came out of the room like clowns out of a clown car: "1, 2, 3, . . . 27, 28, 29!"
My, what a beautiful thing! It was tight, for sure. In fact, I couldn't move until after 12 of the boys were already out. And it got pretty hot in there. But think about what we were able to do! We had 5.8 boys per cubic yard! And these weren't little boys either—we had a lot of rather big boys in there!
Here are a few photos of the loading process:
The sign on the door of that last picture was absolutely true: "Warning: Contents may be very hot and extremely habit forming." (It's a phrase from a Blackjack pizza box.)
Much fun was had by all . . . but we're not satisfied yet. We think we can fit at least 33 if we pack a little more intelligently, fit a few more between the boys' legs, and save our littlest people for on top. So we're currently working on plans for an encore performance: bigger, better, and even more manly than the first extravaganza!
Yesterday, we fit these 28 manly men and one woman . . .
. . . into this 1 x 2 x 2.5–yard entryway between two apartments:
Why did we do it? Because we could. Because it was there. Because we got to talking one day--when five of us got in each other's way as we were walking in and out at the same time--and somebody thought out loud, "I wonder how many boys we could fit in here if we really tried?"
So Saturday night I collected a bunch of boys and we really tried. First we made two rows of boys and loaded them in. Then we tossed a boy on top. Then we loaded another couple rows of boys. We tossed another boy on top. We shoved some more boys in the entryway. Then we shoved a third and fourth boy on top. Then we found a way to fit a boy in under the legs of the other boys. Then we ran out of boys, so we grabbed a girl and stuffed her in there as well. Then we shut the door, for closure's sake.
We all climbed out, and the couple-dozen girls in the hallway, who'd been watching and taking pictures, counted as we came out of the room like clowns out of a clown car: "1, 2, 3, . . . 27, 28, 29!"
My, what a beautiful thing! It was tight, for sure. In fact, I couldn't move until after 12 of the boys were already out. And it got pretty hot in there. But think about what we were able to do! We had 5.8 boys per cubic yard! And these weren't little boys either—we had a lot of rather big boys in there!
Here are a few photos of the loading process:
The sign on the door of that last picture was absolutely true: "Warning: Contents may be very hot and extremely habit forming." (It's a phrase from a Blackjack pizza box.)
Much fun was had by all . . . but we're not satisfied yet. We think we can fit at least 33 if we pack a little more intelligently, fit a few more between the boys' legs, and save our littlest people for on top. So we're currently working on plans for an encore performance: bigger, better, and even more manly than the first extravaganza!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Theoretical vs Tangible
Posted by Braden
I was asking my math professor a question today during his office hours, and we got to talking. He was really surprised to find out that this is my first math class since high school (partly because it's Math 343, and partly because I've been doing so well in the class). Then I got a letter this week inviting me to the Mathematics Undergraduate Recognition Dinner, "based on the recommendation of [my] professor." (I'm excited for it—they're going to have free food and a "mathemagics" show!)
My professor said that I should definitely get a math minor, like I'm planning on doing, and maybe even a math major, since it comes so easily for me. I don't think I will (I just need a degree; experience and results in the places I work will be what actually get me places), but it was nice to hear. And it's true that I do prefer the computational part of science. I find the manipulation of numbers to be really satisfying. Studying inferential statistics in my high-school AP statistics class was really exciting, too.
While optimization in mechanical engineering requires number-manipulation out the wazoo, I find actually working with physical parts to be frustrating—everything is so inexact and variable! It makes me wonder every once in a while if I'm really in the right major, but I think I am. I'll just select a job or branch of mechanical engineering that deals more with computer models and simulations and have somebody else go through the pain of actually creating the tangible representations of my models. Unfortunately, to get my undergraduate degree, I need to go through those pains myself as I take all the classes on manufacturing and machining—gross!
I was asking my math professor a question today during his office hours, and we got to talking. He was really surprised to find out that this is my first math class since high school (partly because it's Math 343, and partly because I've been doing so well in the class). Then I got a letter this week inviting me to the Mathematics Undergraduate Recognition Dinner, "based on the recommendation of [my] professor." (I'm excited for it—they're going to have free food and a "mathemagics" show!)
My professor said that I should definitely get a math minor, like I'm planning on doing, and maybe even a math major, since it comes so easily for me. I don't think I will (I just need a degree; experience and results in the places I work will be what actually get me places), but it was nice to hear. And it's true that I do prefer the computational part of science. I find the manipulation of numbers to be really satisfying. Studying inferential statistics in my high-school AP statistics class was really exciting, too.
While optimization in mechanical engineering requires number-manipulation out the wazoo, I find actually working with physical parts to be frustrating—everything is so inexact and variable! It makes me wonder every once in a while if I'm really in the right major, but I think I am. I'll just select a job or branch of mechanical engineering that deals more with computer models and simulations and have somebody else go through the pain of actually creating the tangible representations of my models. Unfortunately, to get my undergraduate degree, I need to go through those pains myself as I take all the classes on manufacturing and machining—gross!
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