Posted by Braden
It's February, and love is in the air!
The number of couples in my ward has easily doubled since first semester.
There's talk of engagements among the freshmen girls.
I've heard a lot of plans for Valentine's Day this weekend, from both official couples and non-official couples!
The other night, one boy in the apartment that shares a corner with mine was giving his roommate kissing lessons:
"Now, when she starts fiddling with her keys, that's a good thing. She won't stick them in the lock yet; she's hinting that she wants you to make a move. Take a half-step forward so that she gets the idea that you catch her hint. Then you go in 90 percent and wait for her to come in the last 10 percent. However, you'll want to save the first kiss for your date next weekend on Valentine's Day. I know it's painful to wait, but it'll be worth it, trust me. So on your date this weekend, you should just give her a hug."
"Can't I at least give her a kiss on the cheek?"
"No, that'll confuse her. If you start moving in and she doesn't know whether you're aiming for the lips or the cheek, she won't know what to do, and a very awkward collision of faces could occur. Go for a hug."
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
etc.
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Friday, February 12, 2010
Two Little Words
Posted by Braden
Two little words—two very painful little words—ruined my day today: "RAM deleted."
Before you feel too bad for me, it wasn't my computer. It was just my calculator. It still hurts, however; especially when you consider how many hours I've spent building myself the most beautiful assortment of homemade programs any student could want! I spent my first two classes this morning adding to my glorious collection, this time with programs for calculating dot products, cross products, and orthogonal projections for linear algebra. I tested each program, and they all worked!
I then decided to clean up the code a little bit, for the sake of having pride in my work, so I started to combine two of my programs. Then something went terribly wrong. The screen of my poor TI-83 Plus made a picture that looked like each pixel had been randomly selected as "on" or "off." I pushed 2nd, then Quit. Nothing happened. I tried "Clear." Nothing happened. I turned off the calculator. I turned it back on, and something happened: the screen went black, then white, then up popped those two terrible little words—RAM Deleted—and all my pretty little programs disappeared. I imagine that's what it would be like to watch your dog being put to sleep right before your eyes. *Sigh.*
Tomorrow I'll start rebuilding.
Two little words—two very painful little words—ruined my day today: "RAM deleted."
Before you feel too bad for me, it wasn't my computer. It was just my calculator. It still hurts, however; especially when you consider how many hours I've spent building myself the most beautiful assortment of homemade programs any student could want! I spent my first two classes this morning adding to my glorious collection, this time with programs for calculating dot products, cross products, and orthogonal projections for linear algebra. I tested each program, and they all worked!
I then decided to clean up the code a little bit, for the sake of having pride in my work, so I started to combine two of my programs. Then something went terribly wrong. The screen of my poor TI-83 Plus made a picture that looked like each pixel had been randomly selected as "on" or "off." I pushed 2nd, then Quit. Nothing happened. I tried "Clear." Nothing happened. I turned off the calculator. I turned it back on, and something happened: the screen went black, then white, then up popped those two terrible little words—RAM Deleted—and all my pretty little programs disappeared. I imagine that's what it would be like to watch your dog being put to sleep right before your eyes. *Sigh.*
Tomorrow I'll start rebuilding.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Writer's Cramp
Posted by Trevor
One big contrast between college life and life in high school has been the absence of writing papers. I have never been inclined to pursue the field of English in any form. Attending college was a dream come true when I found out that I didn't have to take an English course every semester. I've found that I'm perfectly content to fill my schedule with math and science courses, where there is no writing of any kind required.
However, this lack of paper-writing also has its drawbacks. Because I'm not required to write papers on a regular basis, the task of writing anything has become much harder to complete. On the rare occasion that I am required to write, I can literally spend an hour or so trying to find a way to phrase a certain idea to my liking. Hopefully I can get myself back into the habit of efficient writing, but in the meantime, I'm content with the lack of writing in my schedule.
One big contrast between college life and life in high school has been the absence of writing papers. I have never been inclined to pursue the field of English in any form. Attending college was a dream come true when I found out that I didn't have to take an English course every semester. I've found that I'm perfectly content to fill my schedule with math and science courses, where there is no writing of any kind required.
However, this lack of paper-writing also has its drawbacks. Because I'm not required to write papers on a regular basis, the task of writing anything has become much harder to complete. On the rare occasion that I am required to write, I can literally spend an hour or so trying to find a way to phrase a certain idea to my liking. Hopefully I can get myself back into the habit of efficient writing, but in the meantime, I'm content with the lack of writing in my schedule.
Upgraded
Posted by Brittany Karford Rogers (BA ’07), Associate Editor
In January Kory Katseanes, director of orchestras, called Sini to announce he was moving her up to Chamber Orchestra, BYU’s elite touring orchestra. But that’s not all. That same night she got an e-mail from him: “It just said, ‘P.S. I moved you to Phil.’”
Phil, short for BYU’s Philharmonic Orchestra, was Sini’s first-semester dream—and she didn’t even have to audition. “I was so happy, I was jumping around. I was the only violinist to get moved up. . . . I guess I’m good,” she smiles broadly. She still had to audition for chair position in February, but she was in.
In January Kory Katseanes, director of orchestras, called Sini to announce he was moving her up to Chamber Orchestra, BYU’s elite touring orchestra. But that’s not all. That same night she got an e-mail from him: “It just said, ‘P.S. I moved you to Phil.’”
Phil, short for BYU’s Philharmonic Orchestra, was Sini’s first-semester dream—and she didn’t even have to audition. “I was so happy, I was jumping around. I was the only violinist to get moved up. . . . I guess I’m good,” she smiles broadly. She still had to audition for chair position in February, but she was in.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
How the Stock Market Crashed
Posted by Braden
I was in the hallway of the Testing Center a few days ago, doing one last review before going up the stairs to grab my test. I heard a commotion by the main stairwell, so I took a look. All of a sudden, the line to pick up your test was going down the stairs and growing every second! I, like everybody else, picked up my stuff and hurried to get in line—I didn't want to be waiting forever to get my test! In a matter of 60 seconds, the line went from nonexistent to wrapping all the way around on the second floor, down the steps, and then down the hallway on the first floor.
How did it happen? Like this:
An accounting class of 300 kids had to take their test by 4 p.m. that day, and it had a one-hour time limit. The vast majority of them waited until the last day, coming with just enough time to study for a wee bit before taking the test. A group of friends walked in the door and got in line. Those who were studying accounting saw that the line was getting full and knew they needed to jump in line to get their full hour! Those not in the accounting class didn't want to be stuck in line forever, perhaps rationalizing, "I want time to study, but I don't need THAT much time," so they all rushed to get in line. The slightly slower accounting kids saw the rapidly growing line and panicked and ran to the line. Other kids saw those kids running, so they ran too.
It was all very exciting. And now I know how the stock market crashed.
I was in the hallway of the Testing Center a few days ago, doing one last review before going up the stairs to grab my test. I heard a commotion by the main stairwell, so I took a look. All of a sudden, the line to pick up your test was going down the stairs and growing every second! I, like everybody else, picked up my stuff and hurried to get in line—I didn't want to be waiting forever to get my test! In a matter of 60 seconds, the line went from nonexistent to wrapping all the way around on the second floor, down the steps, and then down the hallway on the first floor.
How did it happen? Like this:
An accounting class of 300 kids had to take their test by 4 p.m. that day, and it had a one-hour time limit. The vast majority of them waited until the last day, coming with just enough time to study for a wee bit before taking the test. A group of friends walked in the door and got in line. Those who were studying accounting saw that the line was getting full and knew they needed to jump in line to get their full hour! Those not in the accounting class didn't want to be stuck in line forever, perhaps rationalizing, "I want time to study, but I don't need THAT much time," so they all rushed to get in line. The slightly slower accounting kids saw the rapidly growing line and panicked and ran to the line. Other kids saw those kids running, so they ran too.
It was all very exciting. And now I know how the stock market crashed.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Livin' on the Street (In a Box)
Posted by Ashley
One question seems to be on everyone's mind: Where to live next year? Three of my roommates and I have decided to live together again, and we've spent the past four Friday afternoons looking at apartments. We were about to give up and just live in a box on the street because we couldn't agree on a place: it was either too expensive, too "ghetto," too far away, too ugly, or unlivable due to some other reason one of us came up with. We were getting sick of looking.
Finally, last Friday, we agreed to make a final decision after checking out one more place. We got there and unanimously agreed we would not live there, but we decided to check out another place right next door. That place was better, but still not perfect. My roommate had a prompting to ask one of the tenants where she lived before. She seemed to really like her last place, so we decided to go check it out. The building was pink; we felt like we were in Mexico by the look of it. We practically had to drag one of our roommates closer to check it out. We knocked on a door and were welcomed inside, and the apartment was great.
After each place we visit, we have a team meeting. This was the first team meeting where we all felt good about an apartment. We submitted our applications that night and returned on Saturday to pay our deposit. Now we just have to wait to hear if we were accepted. It was just amazing that we were guided to that place; by the look of the exterior, we never would have checked it out on our own. So that goes to show you: never judge a book by its cover.
One question seems to be on everyone's mind: Where to live next year? Three of my roommates and I have decided to live together again, and we've spent the past four Friday afternoons looking at apartments. We were about to give up and just live in a box on the street because we couldn't agree on a place: it was either too expensive, too "ghetto," too far away, too ugly, or unlivable due to some other reason one of us came up with. We were getting sick of looking.
Finally, last Friday, we agreed to make a final decision after checking out one more place. We got there and unanimously agreed we would not live there, but we decided to check out another place right next door. That place was better, but still not perfect. My roommate had a prompting to ask one of the tenants where she lived before. She seemed to really like her last place, so we decided to go check it out. The building was pink; we felt like we were in Mexico by the look of it. We practically had to drag one of our roommates closer to check it out. We knocked on a door and were welcomed inside, and the apartment was great.
After each place we visit, we have a team meeting. This was the first team meeting where we all felt good about an apartment. We submitted our applications that night and returned on Saturday to pay our deposit. Now we just have to wait to hear if we were accepted. It was just amazing that we were guided to that place; by the look of the exterior, we never would have checked it out on our own. So that goes to show you: never judge a book by its cover.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Housing! AAAAHHH!!!!
Posted by Elise
We barely started winter semester and we’re already scrambling to find housing for next year. It’s a little bit ridiculous. In the process of looking for housing, we realized that many housing complexes have a stigma or stereotype. Of course, the stigmas aren’t important enough to sway our decision, but I think they are so interesting. I wonder how those stigmas started. They seem like self-fulfilling prophecies to me. For example, if a certain complex has X reputation, it will attract X kind of people.
I think stigmas are ridiculous and I’m baffled by how prevalent they are. My roommate and I were thinking of living in a complex that apparently has a “partier” stigma attached to it. Here’s the conversation we had with probably five different friends on five separate occasions:
We barely started winter semester and we’re already scrambling to find housing for next year. It’s a little bit ridiculous. In the process of looking for housing, we realized that many housing complexes have a stigma or stereotype. Of course, the stigmas aren’t important enough to sway our decision, but I think they are so interesting. I wonder how those stigmas started. They seem like self-fulfilling prophecies to me. For example, if a certain complex has X reputation, it will attract X kind of people.
I think stigmas are ridiculous and I’m baffled by how prevalent they are. My roommate and I were thinking of living in a complex that apparently has a “partier” stigma attached to it. Here’s the conversation we had with probably five different friends on five separate occasions:
- Us: We’re thinking of living at ___.
Them:(Raised eyebrow.)
Us:What? What’s wrong?
Them:Oh it’s nothing. . . . I was just gonna say . . . but it’s not a big deal.
Us:C’mon.
Them:Well I just heard that __________. But it’s not a big deal. It’s not like people actually believe that. Just forget I mentioned it. (Friend is squirmy and apologetic.)
Us:(Laughing on the inside).
Friday, February 5, 2010
Another Way to Test
Posted by Trevor
Today I had my first exam inside the Testing Center. That's not to say this was my first test or quiz, it's just that in all of my other classes, the exams were administered either online or in class. Now that I think about it, I really prefer them to be that way.
When tests are online, I tend to feel a lot more relaxed. I can take the test in the comfort of my apartment. And when exams are taken during class hours, there is a set time limit and the test is made to be taken within a set amount of time. As I took my test in the Testing Center today, neither of these comforts was offered.
The Testing Center is a house of fear, fear so pungent you don't need to be a dog to smell it. As the semester continues, I pray for more tests taken outside of the Testing Center where there aren't so many bad vibes reverberating off of the walls.
Today I had my first exam inside the Testing Center. That's not to say this was my first test or quiz, it's just that in all of my other classes, the exams were administered either online or in class. Now that I think about it, I really prefer them to be that way.
When tests are online, I tend to feel a lot more relaxed. I can take the test in the comfort of my apartment. And when exams are taken during class hours, there is a set time limit and the test is made to be taken within a set amount of time. As I took my test in the Testing Center today, neither of these comforts was offered.
The Testing Center is a house of fear, fear so pungent you don't need to be a dog to smell it. As the semester continues, I pray for more tests taken outside of the Testing Center where there aren't so many bad vibes reverberating off of the walls.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
My Mission Call
Posted by Braden
It happened! It finally happened! My call came! It finally came! And I cannot stop smiling!
Before I say where I'm going and when, there are a few things you have to know:
1) My brother gets home from his mission in Taiwan on May 25. As soon as my brother and I were old enough to do the math, we figured that we might just barely miss each other between our two missions. We corresponded about availability dates throughout this past year, trying to figure out what would be perfect. I didn't want to have to wait too long to leave, but I wanted to see my brother. There are typically a few weeks between your availability date and your report date, but it's not always the same length of time.
Finally, we decided (via e-mail) that a May 14 availability date would be perfect. It was most likely that I wouldn't have to report for at least a few weeks after that, and we'd be able to see each other, but it wouldn't be too far into the summer. Then over Christmas break, when I was filling out my papers, I made a comment like, "I'm so anxious to go!" to which one of my parents replied, "Well, you are 19. You can set your availability date for whenever you want." And then I was like, "You know, why not? I'm dying to go soon. I'm setting my date for May 1, and if Travis and I don't get to see each other, I won't like it, but I'll survive."
I didn't mention the change in plans to him, but then he asked, so I had to tell him about the switch. I really considered moving the date back a week or so, closer to May 14—what's one more week before reporting compared to having the whole family together for one week in four years? But May 1 just felt right. I thought about it a lot, prayed about it a lot, and it just felt right, so I kept it.
2) Every pre-missionary responds to the inevitable question, "So where would you like to go on your mission?" at least once in his life with, "Wherever the Lord needs me." And it's true, that's where I wanted to go. But I suspect that every one of those boys and girls also thinks in his or her head at least once, "I'll go wherever, but wouldn't it be especially fun to go to _____."
Well, I had one of those places. For as long as I can remember, when people said, "I know that you're not supposed to pick favorites, but IF you did get to pick where you would like to go, what would you choose?" I always responded with this country. When my uncle came home from a mission to this country a number of years ago, I remember thinking, "Wow—that'd be perfect! I hope I go somewhere like that!" When everybody in my family wrote down where they thought I'd go, I secretly made my own guess, and it was this place.
This summer I found out that due to visa troubles, this mission was being closed to North American missionaries. I groaned just a little bit on the inside, but I knew that I was going to get called to wherever I was supposed to go anyway. Then last week, after my papers were already in, I heard from an RM that the mission had recently opened back up again to missionaries from North America.
I was so excited! I went home and sent my parents an email with the title, "______ is open again!" since they've always known that I have a sweet spot for it. "I don't expect to go there, of course," I told them, "but it is nice that it's an option again, at least!"
A week ago my key chain broke, so I told myself that I'd just buy a new one in a week or two of the flag of whatever country I'm going to (United States included). Two days ago, when I was in the Bookstore, I took a look at all the flags, and naturally my eyes searched first for this country's flag. After I found it, I mentally slapped my wrist for showing preference, and went on to my next class.
3) I asked anybody with mission-call experience about when they thought I should expect to receive mine. There were just too many opinions for me to know anything for sure, but I was pretty positive that my call would show up sometime in the middle of the week, most likely on a Wednesday. This past Wednesday, a boy who sent in his papers a week before me received his call. I figured that meant I still had at least a week to go, so I stopped thinking about it. Then this morning I found out from my grandparents, who have a contact in the Missionary Department, that my call was mailed out yesterday! All of my focus disappeared instantly.
I came home from classes at 1:30 p.m., hoping to find the call, but no. I went to the temple for an hour and a half and came back expecting to find my call, since our mail usually comes by 2:30 p.m., but no. The mail had come, but it wasn't there. I went to my 4 p.m. class, content to wait until tomorrow to begin checking compulsively again. I got two phone calls during class that I didn't answer; I checked my voice mail as soon as class ended, and one of the messages was from the Helaman Halls Central Building. They said they had my mission call there! I was rather confused, since I live in Heritage Halls, but they had my call and I wanted it!
Unfortunately, I was already on my way to meet up with somebody for dinner, and we were supposed to meet up in five minutes! I rushed to dinner; we ate and talked for about an hour. I had to fight so hard to keep myself from jumping up and sprinting to the central building. And then I got the letter; it was about 6 p.m. by this time.
I tried really hard not to look at the postage; I've heard varying stories on what it means, and I didn't want to speculate. I wanted to open my call with my ward, but I also needed to pick a time when all of my family back home could be on the phone, so I chose 8:30 p.m. I texted all the people whom I'd promised to tell when I got my letter and passed the word around the ward.
Then I tried, failing miserably, to study for my test tomorrow. I couldn't concentrate for more than maybe 30 seconds at a time. "Two hours left . . . 1.5 hours . . . 1.3 hours . . . 1.15 hours . . . 1.12 hours . . . 1.11 hours . . . is time moving at all?!"
Another boy in the ward was scheduled to open his call at 8 p.m. The ward showed up, and he read that he was going to Brazil, and his report date was May 24! That scared me a little: if he put his papers in on the same day as me, and he's reporting on May 24, odds are pretty good that I'll report on the same day, and I'll miss my brother by one day!"
The last 30 minutes were by far the longest. I went for a walk to burn the time. And then 8:30 p.m. finally came.
I called up my family back home, hushed everyone down, my sister started recording, and I opened up the letter:
Then everybody clapped and cheered and congratulated me and I couldn't do anything but smile, thank them, smile, reread the letter, smile, and find where Samara is in Russia, and smile some more.
I'm not going to get any more studying done tonight. All I want to do is look up Russia, Samara, the Russian language, my application for a U.S. passport, my mission boundaries, stories from people who went to my mission, the list of supplies I'm going to need, etc. WOW, what a rush! It turns out that it is the exact same mission where my uncle went! I can't wait to hear stories, see pictures, and start learning all about where I'm going to be living and serving for the next two years!
I know that I would have been thrilled no matter where I was called. It's still so amazing to me that we 19-year-old boys are allowed to be called to such important roles in the grand scheme of everything! And I cannot wait to share the gospel with all of the good people in Russia! It's made me so happy! If I can just help them see how much they have to gain, how much easier and happier their lives will be with the gospel, they'll know that it's worth it. And even if you told me that not a single person I talk to will join the Church in all 24 months that I'm there, I'd still go in a heartbeat! This is going to be a wonderful two years!
And wow—to be called to the place I've always wanted to go AND see my brother before I leave AND not have to wait any longer to get my call—I'm certainly on cloud nine right now, and I'm not coming down anytime soon!
It happened! It finally happened! My call came! It finally came! And I cannot stop smiling!
Before I say where I'm going and when, there are a few things you have to know:
1) My brother gets home from his mission in Taiwan on May 25. As soon as my brother and I were old enough to do the math, we figured that we might just barely miss each other between our two missions. We corresponded about availability dates throughout this past year, trying to figure out what would be perfect. I didn't want to have to wait too long to leave, but I wanted to see my brother. There are typically a few weeks between your availability date and your report date, but it's not always the same length of time.
Finally, we decided (via e-mail) that a May 14 availability date would be perfect. It was most likely that I wouldn't have to report for at least a few weeks after that, and we'd be able to see each other, but it wouldn't be too far into the summer. Then over Christmas break, when I was filling out my papers, I made a comment like, "I'm so anxious to go!" to which one of my parents replied, "Well, you are 19. You can set your availability date for whenever you want." And then I was like, "You know, why not? I'm dying to go soon. I'm setting my date for May 1, and if Travis and I don't get to see each other, I won't like it, but I'll survive."
I didn't mention the change in plans to him, but then he asked, so I had to tell him about the switch. I really considered moving the date back a week or so, closer to May 14—what's one more week before reporting compared to having the whole family together for one week in four years? But May 1 just felt right. I thought about it a lot, prayed about it a lot, and it just felt right, so I kept it.
2) Every pre-missionary responds to the inevitable question, "So where would you like to go on your mission?" at least once in his life with, "Wherever the Lord needs me." And it's true, that's where I wanted to go. But I suspect that every one of those boys and girls also thinks in his or her head at least once, "I'll go wherever, but wouldn't it be especially fun to go to _____."
Well, I had one of those places. For as long as I can remember, when people said, "I know that you're not supposed to pick favorites, but IF you did get to pick where you would like to go, what would you choose?" I always responded with this country. When my uncle came home from a mission to this country a number of years ago, I remember thinking, "Wow—that'd be perfect! I hope I go somewhere like that!" When everybody in my family wrote down where they thought I'd go, I secretly made my own guess, and it was this place.
This summer I found out that due to visa troubles, this mission was being closed to North American missionaries. I groaned just a little bit on the inside, but I knew that I was going to get called to wherever I was supposed to go anyway. Then last week, after my papers were already in, I heard from an RM that the mission had recently opened back up again to missionaries from North America.
I was so excited! I went home and sent my parents an email with the title, "______ is open again!" since they've always known that I have a sweet spot for it. "I don't expect to go there, of course," I told them, "but it is nice that it's an option again, at least!"
A week ago my key chain broke, so I told myself that I'd just buy a new one in a week or two of the flag of whatever country I'm going to (United States included). Two days ago, when I was in the Bookstore, I took a look at all the flags, and naturally my eyes searched first for this country's flag. After I found it, I mentally slapped my wrist for showing preference, and went on to my next class.
3) I asked anybody with mission-call experience about when they thought I should expect to receive mine. There were just too many opinions for me to know anything for sure, but I was pretty positive that my call would show up sometime in the middle of the week, most likely on a Wednesday. This past Wednesday, a boy who sent in his papers a week before me received his call. I figured that meant I still had at least a week to go, so I stopped thinking about it. Then this morning I found out from my grandparents, who have a contact in the Missionary Department, that my call was mailed out yesterday! All of my focus disappeared instantly.
I came home from classes at 1:30 p.m., hoping to find the call, but no. I went to the temple for an hour and a half and came back expecting to find my call, since our mail usually comes by 2:30 p.m., but no. The mail had come, but it wasn't there. I went to my 4 p.m. class, content to wait until tomorrow to begin checking compulsively again. I got two phone calls during class that I didn't answer; I checked my voice mail as soon as class ended, and one of the messages was from the Helaman Halls Central Building. They said they had my mission call there! I was rather confused, since I live in Heritage Halls, but they had my call and I wanted it!
Unfortunately, I was already on my way to meet up with somebody for dinner, and we were supposed to meet up in five minutes! I rushed to dinner; we ate and talked for about an hour. I had to fight so hard to keep myself from jumping up and sprinting to the central building. And then I got the letter; it was about 6 p.m. by this time.
I tried really hard not to look at the postage; I've heard varying stories on what it means, and I didn't want to speculate. I wanted to open my call with my ward, but I also needed to pick a time when all of my family back home could be on the phone, so I chose 8:30 p.m. I texted all the people whom I'd promised to tell when I got my letter and passed the word around the ward.
Then I tried, failing miserably, to study for my test tomorrow. I couldn't concentrate for more than maybe 30 seconds at a time. "Two hours left . . . 1.5 hours . . . 1.3 hours . . . 1.15 hours . . . 1.12 hours . . . 1.11 hours . . . is time moving at all?!"
Another boy in the ward was scheduled to open his call at 8 p.m. The ward showed up, and he read that he was going to Brazil, and his report date was May 24! That scared me a little: if he put his papers in on the same day as me, and he's reporting on May 24, odds are pretty good that I'll report on the same day, and I'll miss my brother by one day!"
The last 30 minutes were by far the longest. I went for a walk to burn the time. And then 8:30 p.m. finally came.
I called up my family back home, hushed everyone down, my sister started recording, and I opened up the letter:
- Dear Elder Hancock:
You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You are assigned to labor in the RUSSIA SAMARA mission!
(my thoughts: "I CAN'T BELIEVE I ACTUALLY GOT CALLED TO RUSSIA!")
You should report to the Missionary Training Center at Provo, Utah on Wednesday, 3 June 2009!
("I can't believe that I'm going to Russia, AND I get to see Travis before I leave!")
Then everybody clapped and cheered and congratulated me and I couldn't do anything but smile, thank them, smile, reread the letter, smile, and find where Samara is in Russia, and smile some more.
I'm not going to get any more studying done tonight. All I want to do is look up Russia, Samara, the Russian language, my application for a U.S. passport, my mission boundaries, stories from people who went to my mission, the list of supplies I'm going to need, etc. WOW, what a rush! It turns out that it is the exact same mission where my uncle went! I can't wait to hear stories, see pictures, and start learning all about where I'm going to be living and serving for the next two years!
I know that I would have been thrilled no matter where I was called. It's still so amazing to me that we 19-year-old boys are allowed to be called to such important roles in the grand scheme of everything! And I cannot wait to share the gospel with all of the good people in Russia! It's made me so happy! If I can just help them see how much they have to gain, how much easier and happier their lives will be with the gospel, they'll know that it's worth it. And even if you told me that not a single person I talk to will join the Church in all 24 months that I'm there, I'd still go in a heartbeat! This is going to be a wonderful two years!
And wow—to be called to the place I've always wanted to go AND see my brother before I leave AND not have to wait any longer to get my call—I'm certainly on cloud nine right now, and I'm not coming down anytime soon!
Opening It Tonight!
Posted by Braden
Oh my word! My mission call got sent to the wrong address, so I just barely got it at 6 p.m. today! I'm opening it up at 8:30 tonight in my dorm lobby. I'll post the full story later. :) This is killing me that I need to wait another hour and a half to open it when it's sitting right here on my desk...!
Oh my word! My mission call got sent to the wrong address, so I just barely got it at 6 p.m. today! I'm opening it up at 8:30 tonight in my dorm lobby. I'll post the full story later. :) This is killing me that I need to wait another hour and a half to open it when it's sitting right here on my desk...!
Dictate This
Posted by Brittany Karford Rogers (BA ’07), Associate Editor
Pick a piece of music; memorize it in a semester; then write it out, without listening to it, in class on the day of the final. For this semester-long assignment, given in Sini’s music violin master’s class, Sini selected Sarasate, by Zigeneurweisen. “It’s a gypsy song, something that all violinists have heard—but this one is horrible, it is so hard,” she says. “My master’s teacher even announced in class, ‘Hey, guess what Sini’s dictation piece is,’ he thought it was so funny.”
Pick a piece of music; memorize it in a semester; then write it out, without listening to it, in class on the day of the final. For this semester-long assignment, given in Sini’s music violin master’s class, Sini selected Sarasate, by Zigeneurweisen. “It’s a gypsy song, something that all violinists have heard—but this one is horrible, it is so hard,” she says. “My master’s teacher even announced in class, ‘Hey, guess what Sini’s dictation piece is,’ he thought it was so funny.”
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Floor Discrimination
Posted by Braden
During first semester I lived on the third floor of my hall. This semester I live on the first floor. Last semester I figured it was all the same, the only exception being that I had to climb two more flights of stairs whenever I came home from classes. Now I know the truth.
The third-floor people are a little more isolated. There is more activity in the first-floor lobby. If somebody's doing something stupid in the first-floor lobby, I'll hear it and get to watch. Before, I probably wouldn't have noticed the noise, or I wouldn't have cared if I had. On Thursday, three people wanted to play spades and they needed a fourth. My room is right there connected to the main lobby, so they hollered, "Hey Braden, wanna play spades?" and I did, so we played. Had I been on the third floor, that would not have happened, and I probably would have done something else or gone to bed 30 minutes earlier.
It's not just my hall either—I've noticed that in the girls' hall, too. The ones who live on the third floor have their own friends—roommates or corner buddies or whatnot—but they don't often spontaneously hop into activities with the first-floor girls; they don't really know the first-floor girls very well because they live two floors up! And since everyone enters their rooms from the outside staircases, there's no pressing reason to interact with other floors in your hall outside of planned hall activities.
Now, I don't think it's necessarily a terrible thing that needs fixing, or that the upper floors are purposely excluded in any way, but I did think it was interesting. Life really IS different on the first floor.
During first semester I lived on the third floor of my hall. This semester I live on the first floor. Last semester I figured it was all the same, the only exception being that I had to climb two more flights of stairs whenever I came home from classes. Now I know the truth.
The third-floor people are a little more isolated. There is more activity in the first-floor lobby. If somebody's doing something stupid in the first-floor lobby, I'll hear it and get to watch. Before, I probably wouldn't have noticed the noise, or I wouldn't have cared if I had. On Thursday, three people wanted to play spades and they needed a fourth. My room is right there connected to the main lobby, so they hollered, "Hey Braden, wanna play spades?" and I did, so we played. Had I been on the third floor, that would not have happened, and I probably would have done something else or gone to bed 30 minutes earlier.
It's not just my hall either—I've noticed that in the girls' hall, too. The ones who live on the third floor have their own friends—roommates or corner buddies or whatnot—but they don't often spontaneously hop into activities with the first-floor girls; they don't really know the first-floor girls very well because they live two floors up! And since everyone enters their rooms from the outside staircases, there's no pressing reason to interact with other floors in your hall outside of planned hall activities.
Now, I don't think it's necessarily a terrible thing that needs fixing, or that the upper floors are purposely excluded in any way, but I did think it was interesting. Life really IS different on the first floor.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
The Hunt
Posted by Laura
It's that time of the year: people are out searching for the apartments they'll be living in next year. A bunch of girls have knocked on our door, asking for a tour of my apartment and interviewing me about the ward, the boys in the ward, rent, and maintenance. Even though it's still the beginning of winter semester, you have to start thinking about the location and the roommates you are going to live with next fall.
The apartment complex that I am living in is really competitive to get into, and the management holds its drawing for contracts in February. I have loved my apartment! Even though I am one of the minority freshman who decides not to live in the dorms, I have loved the location, the ward, the roommates, and all of the new experiences that have come with my apartment.
I've also had a few of my close high school friends, who are planning on attending BYU next year, over for a weekend. Incoming freshman often don't know how important it is to start the housing search early, whether they are looking for off-campus housing or reserving a spot in on-campus housing.
It's that time of the year: people are out searching for the apartments they'll be living in next year. A bunch of girls have knocked on our door, asking for a tour of my apartment and interviewing me about the ward, the boys in the ward, rent, and maintenance. Even though it's still the beginning of winter semester, you have to start thinking about the location and the roommates you are going to live with next fall.
The apartment complex that I am living in is really competitive to get into, and the management holds its drawing for contracts in February. I have loved my apartment! Even though I am one of the minority freshman who decides not to live in the dorms, I have loved the location, the ward, the roommates, and all of the new experiences that have come with my apartment.
I've also had a few of my close high school friends, who are planning on attending BYU next year, over for a weekend. Incoming freshman often don't know how important it is to start the housing search early, whether they are looking for off-campus housing or reserving a spot in on-campus housing.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Being an RA
Posted by Braden
Being a resident assistant (RA) this semester has been so much fun! A few of my favorite moments this past month:
1) I got a call on my landline phone in my room from two girls that went something like this:
So I went on over, and sure enough, they were locked in! Their doorknob had come lose so that the door was stuck in the closed position, and turning the knob did nothing. Well, we (their hall RA saw me come in, heard their story, laughed, and came with me) got the master key and started jiggling, and the key grabbed onto something that turning the knob wasn't grabbing. We were able to get the girls out in time for class, and we called maintenance to come fix the door. So far I've helped eight people who were locked out of their rooms, and just those two girls who were locked in.
2) In the student development class that you have to take while you're an RA, they go over what to expect this semester. Here's the gist of it:
Then we went over how to handle all of those phases, of course. I found the cyclical nature of each freshman class amusing.
3) One of my dormmates, sick of answering the door when I'm not home for people who need their rooms unlocked, has posted a sign outside of our door that says:
4) Part of being an RA is organizing events and programs with which to spend our allotted hall budget for the semester! A few that I've incorporated since "taking office":
Being a resident assistant (RA) this semester has been so much fun! A few of my favorite moments this past month:
1) I got a call on my landline phone in my room from two girls that went something like this:
- "Hi, this is Braden, the RA of Kimball Hall. What can I do for you?"
"Um . . . we're locked in our room. Can you come help us out?"
"Ha ha, wait, what? You're locked IN your room?"
"Yeah, I know it's kind of pathetic. But I have class in 30 minutes, and I need to get out of here. So you can come unlock it?"
"Yeah, I'll be right over!"
So I went on over, and sure enough, they were locked in! Their doorknob had come lose so that the door was stuck in the closed position, and turning the knob did nothing. Well, we (their hall RA saw me come in, heard their story, laughed, and came with me) got the master key and started jiggling, and the key grabbed onto something that turning the knob wasn't grabbing. We were able to get the girls out in time for class, and we called maintenance to come fix the door. So far I've helped eight people who were locked out of their rooms, and just those two girls who were locked in.
2) In the student development class that you have to take while you're an RA, they go over what to expect this semester. Here's the gist of it:
- "Right now it's January and nobody wants to be back at school. By February everyone will have hooked up, so expect more PDA. In March residents are getting bored, so you'll probably see more pranks. In April all the boys are going to be experiencing reverse-trunkiness; they see no point to school, they just want to be on their missions already. Good luck!"
Then we went over how to handle all of those phases, of course. I found the cyclical nature of each freshman class amusing.
3) One of my dormmates, sick of answering the door when I'm not home for people who need their rooms unlocked, has posted a sign outside of our door that says:
- "Braden, the RA, is:" followed by a flippable sign that says, "OUT. Go Away!" on one side, and "IN. Come on in!" on the other.
4) Part of being an RA is organizing events and programs with which to spend our allotted hall budget for the semester! A few that I've incorporated since "taking office":
- a) The "stud- or dud-of-the-week" moment in hall meetings. Anyone who had a particularly brilliant date or terrible shutdown from a girl that week tells his story, and the person with the best one gets a candy bar! Now that's male bonding time if I've ever seen it!
b) Cleaning checks are not enjoyable. To make them less painful, I added an incentive: after cleaning checks each month, I'll have a drawing to see which room gets two free large pizzas. Tenants qualify for the drawing by signing up for a cleaning-check time on the sheet outside my door before a certain day, and by not having any rechecks. I've found that the boys are significantly more motivated with this added incentive.
c) For the hall activity this month, we had a mission-deferment party! Almost all of my boys needed to defer their academic enrollment and scholarships before leaving on missions this summer, so why not do it all at once and have food at the end? One of the girls in our ward who works at the administration building brought the forms and showed everyone how to fill them out, and we had chips and salsa as soon as we finished.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Busy Sundays
Posted by Braden
When did Sundays get so busy? My word! I used to come home from church (back when I lived at home) and read a book, play a game with my siblings, or take a nap. But somehow Sundays have gotten really busy since I got here.
On a recent Sunday I had church, ward council, a mission interview, hall meeting, hall council meeting, a visit from my home teachers, home teaching appointments to set up, a fireside, ward prayer, a weekly journal entry to write, and a phone call home to make! And somewhere in there I ate lunch and dinner. Whew! I guess this is what Sundays will probably feel like for the rest of college, eh? There will be different things filling the slots each week, but there's always something. Sunday is still a break from the rest of the week, but it is restful in a busy, restful kind of way.
When did Sundays get so busy? My word! I used to come home from church (back when I lived at home) and read a book, play a game with my siblings, or take a nap. But somehow Sundays have gotten really busy since I got here.
On a recent Sunday I had church, ward council, a mission interview, hall meeting, hall council meeting, a visit from my home teachers, home teaching appointments to set up, a fireside, ward prayer, a weekly journal entry to write, and a phone call home to make! And somewhere in there I ate lunch and dinner. Whew! I guess this is what Sundays will probably feel like for the rest of college, eh? There will be different things filling the slots each week, but there's always something. Sunday is still a break from the rest of the week, but it is restful in a busy, restful kind of way.
Friday, January 29, 2010
Easter Island 2.0
Posted by Braden
What happens when you mix a lot of snow with a lot of kids and a lot of time? A gigantic snow cave with a seven-person capacity and a sculpture of a face on the front, of course!
What happens when you mix a lot of snow with a lot of kids and a lot of time? A gigantic snow cave with a seven-person capacity and a sculpture of a face on the front, of course!
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Nap Time
Posted by Braden
I've tried really hard to do better this semester—really, I have. But no matter what I tell myself, I just can't seem to get in bed before midnight. There's too much happening late at night to sleep through it all! At the end of last semester I was averaging a 2 a.m. bedtime. This semester started with an average around 1 a.m., a minor improvement. However, my schedule also changed; my first class no longer starts at 11 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Now my first class starts at 8 a.m.! So I save one hour of sleep five times a week and lose three hours three times a week; that's a net loss of four hours of sleep per week for Braden!
I have remedied this with the reintroduction of nap time! (Reintroduction in that nap time WAS once a part of my schedule, but I was 3 feet tall then). I suppose it isn't necessarily a scheduled thing. Usually it happens just two or three times a week; I get in bed in the middle of the day and set my alarm for an hour or two later. These naps are nothing big, but they sure do help me keep my head during the week!
I've tried really hard to do better this semester—really, I have. But no matter what I tell myself, I just can't seem to get in bed before midnight. There's too much happening late at night to sleep through it all! At the end of last semester I was averaging a 2 a.m. bedtime. This semester started with an average around 1 a.m., a minor improvement. However, my schedule also changed; my first class no longer starts at 11 a.m. on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Now my first class starts at 8 a.m.! So I save one hour of sleep five times a week and lose three hours three times a week; that's a net loss of four hours of sleep per week for Braden!
I have remedied this with the reintroduction of nap time! (Reintroduction in that nap time WAS once a part of my schedule, but I was 3 feet tall then). I suppose it isn't necessarily a scheduled thing. Usually it happens just two or three times a week; I get in bed in the middle of the day and set my alarm for an hour or two later. These naps are nothing big, but they sure do help me keep my head during the week!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Class that Ate My Second Semester
Posted by Braden
So I thought that after the first couple of assignments from my ME 172 (engineering graphics) class, everything would get easier, because I'd start to understand the programs, and assignments would take less time.
No, each assignment still takes five to six hours to do.
I've done five assignments now; we have two assignments per week. I'm just not used to such large assignments! Reading assignments for my other classes never take that long, and any single math assignment has never been that large. And these aren't even projects; they're just regular homework assignments that, by nature, take forever to do.
Thank goodness I took this class this semester instead of last semester! If I'd been introduced to college with this class, I do believe I would have died—or at least been very distrusting of college for a very long time. Because I already have a semester under my belt, I now know that this class is the exception and not the rule, though it may be normal when compared to other mechanical engineering courses; I guess I'll see.
So I thought that after the first couple of assignments from my ME 172 (engineering graphics) class, everything would get easier, because I'd start to understand the programs, and assignments would take less time.
No, each assignment still takes five to six hours to do.
I've done five assignments now; we have two assignments per week. I'm just not used to such large assignments! Reading assignments for my other classes never take that long, and any single math assignment has never been that large. And these aren't even projects; they're just regular homework assignments that, by nature, take forever to do.
Thank goodness I took this class this semester instead of last semester! If I'd been introduced to college with this class, I do believe I would have died—or at least been very distrusting of college for a very long time. Because I already have a semester under my belt, I now know that this class is the exception and not the rule, though it may be normal when compared to other mechanical engineering courses; I guess I'll see.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Love of Learning
Posted by Laura
At my high school graduation, a very wise teacher gave all of the graduates advice for college. He said, "Don't let school get in the way of your education." I don't think I fully understood this advice until I actually started my college classes. It can be so easy to adopt the mindset of just reading through the syllabus and seeing only the requirements for that dream A grade, and then just going through the motions to get the work done. However, I am attending BYU to get a worthwhile education, and my classes present an incredible opportunity to learn and grow.
Having a sincere love of learning makes my classes so much more enjoyable. My homework is more meaningful when I find ways to apply what I've learned as opposed to just regurgitating a list of definitions from short-term memory. I absolutely love the feeling that comes when you can tell your roommate, as she is eating a potato, that it contains more nutrient-dense potassium than the banana your other roommate is eating. I love the feeling that comes when you can help your little brother with his chemistry homework. I love the joy that comes when you work so hard that you are able to celebrate by dancing to the midnight library music. I love the feeling that comes when you understand the tricky details of microorganisms enough to know that if you lick your hands after touching the door handle, the drinking fountain handle, or the toilet seat that you could get some nasty diseases. Those are the moments that make all of the time, hard work, and lack of sleep in college completely worth it.
At my high school graduation, a very wise teacher gave all of the graduates advice for college. He said, "Don't let school get in the way of your education." I don't think I fully understood this advice until I actually started my college classes. It can be so easy to adopt the mindset of just reading through the syllabus and seeing only the requirements for that dream A grade, and then just going through the motions to get the work done. However, I am attending BYU to get a worthwhile education, and my classes present an incredible opportunity to learn and grow.
Having a sincere love of learning makes my classes so much more enjoyable. My homework is more meaningful when I find ways to apply what I've learned as opposed to just regurgitating a list of definitions from short-term memory. I absolutely love the feeling that comes when you can tell your roommate, as she is eating a potato, that it contains more nutrient-dense potassium than the banana your other roommate is eating. I love the feeling that comes when you can help your little brother with his chemistry homework. I love the joy that comes when you work so hard that you are able to celebrate by dancing to the midnight library music. I love the feeling that comes when you understand the tricky details of microorganisms enough to know that if you lick your hands after touching the door handle, the drinking fountain handle, or the toilet seat that you could get some nasty diseases. Those are the moments that make all of the time, hard work, and lack of sleep in college completely worth it.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Turning in Mission Papers
Posted by Braden
Today I sent my mission papers to Church headquarters in Salt Lake City. But the process of getting them completed up to that point started a few months ago.
In November I turned 19 and arranged an interview with my bishop through the ward executive secretary. In the interview, we set up an account for me online and he showed me the papers I had to fill out.
Over Christmas I had my medical and dental forms completed by my doctor and dentist. Well, sort of. I went and had my doctor's appointment. I got home and realized that they hadn't given me two of the shots I needed. So I went back and got those shots. Then, the day before leaving, I realized that they hadn't done the blood work or tuberculosis (TB) tests that I needed. I got the blood work done, but TB tests take three days, so I had to get that done at the BYU Student Health Center once I got back out to Utah. My insurance covers a dentist cleaning once every six months. I had to go back to school sooner than my next six-month appointment, so instead we paid for just a little examination and I'll have the cleaning done this summer before I leave.
After all of my papers finally reached my bishop, and after my bishop got back from a vacation he'd been on, I was able to have my second interview. We went through all of the papers and double-checked everything, he wrote his recommendation, then he forwarded it on to the stake president.
I showed up in the "first-come, first-served" line for stake presidency interviews on Sunday at noon. An interesting fact about BYU stakes: they are the only stakes in the church where it is approved for the counselors in the stake presidency to do mission interviews, in addition to the president. Because we send off multiple hundreds of missionaries each semester in this stake, it makes sense to spread the workload. I had my interview, President Brad Wilcox (the first counselor in my stake presidency) typed in his recommendation, and then they let me click "send."
It's hard to not think about it now. I've heard various reports about what day of the week mission calls typically show up in the mail, how long it takes for them to show up, how the amount of postage correlates to stateside vs foreign calls, how many weeks after your availability date you are typically asked to report, etc. The other hard thing is deciding what to do when I get my call! Some people open it with the whole ward looking on and their family on the phone. Others open it up by themselves and announce it at ward prayer. A part of me wants to go for a walk and open it by myself. On the other hand, I always find it so exciting when someone from the ward opens his publicly. I just don't know! I suppose I have approximately two weeks to decide. Now I just need to find out what time of day the mail comes so I can start checking the mail compulsively every day for my envelope.
Today I sent my mission papers to Church headquarters in Salt Lake City. But the process of getting them completed up to that point started a few months ago.
In November I turned 19 and arranged an interview with my bishop through the ward executive secretary. In the interview, we set up an account for me online and he showed me the papers I had to fill out.
Over Christmas I had my medical and dental forms completed by my doctor and dentist. Well, sort of. I went and had my doctor's appointment. I got home and realized that they hadn't given me two of the shots I needed. So I went back and got those shots. Then, the day before leaving, I realized that they hadn't done the blood work or tuberculosis (TB) tests that I needed. I got the blood work done, but TB tests take three days, so I had to get that done at the BYU Student Health Center once I got back out to Utah. My insurance covers a dentist cleaning once every six months. I had to go back to school sooner than my next six-month appointment, so instead we paid for just a little examination and I'll have the cleaning done this summer before I leave.
After all of my papers finally reached my bishop, and after my bishop got back from a vacation he'd been on, I was able to have my second interview. We went through all of the papers and double-checked everything, he wrote his recommendation, then he forwarded it on to the stake president.
I showed up in the "first-come, first-served" line for stake presidency interviews on Sunday at noon. An interesting fact about BYU stakes: they are the only stakes in the church where it is approved for the counselors in the stake presidency to do mission interviews, in addition to the president. Because we send off multiple hundreds of missionaries each semester in this stake, it makes sense to spread the workload. I had my interview, President Brad Wilcox (the first counselor in my stake presidency) typed in his recommendation, and then they let me click "send."
It's hard to not think about it now. I've heard various reports about what day of the week mission calls typically show up in the mail, how long it takes for them to show up, how the amount of postage correlates to stateside vs foreign calls, how many weeks after your availability date you are typically asked to report, etc. The other hard thing is deciding what to do when I get my call! Some people open it with the whole ward looking on and their family on the phone. Others open it up by themselves and announce it at ward prayer. A part of me wants to go for a walk and open it by myself. On the other hand, I always find it so exciting when someone from the ward opens his publicly. I just don't know! I suppose I have approximately two weeks to decide. Now I just need to find out what time of day the mail comes so I can start checking the mail compulsively every day for my envelope.
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