Compare and Contrast

I have now been a nanny for over a month and a half, with my new family. I work with an adorable 18 month little girl named Ashvini. I've started comparing my experience with Alex last year and with Ashvini this year.

Here are the similarities:

-Alex was an only child,and the first grandchild, Ashvini is an only child and the first grandchild, as a result they both received grandparent gifts pretty regularly.

-Alex didn't talk, and Ashvini doesn't talk yet.

-Alex screamed with joy when he saw a dog, and Ashvini won't take her eyes off it.

Here are the differences:

-Alex loved being tickled, Ashvini hates being tickled. When I tickle her she laughs then with a stern look tells me, "No, no no."

- When I let Alex climb up the stairs by himself, he was so happy. When I let Ashvini climb up the stairs, she looks at me as if saying, "Are you seriously going to make me do this? You know you can just carry me right?'

-Alex loved making messes, and Ashvini loves cleaning messes up. What an amazing child!

I love seeing these similarities, and differences. I love seeing different personalities come out and become more defined. There is one difference that I just can't account for.

When I was Alex's nanny I was often mistaken for his mother. I would constantly be told that he looked just like me. I started to say thank you and move on, it was so much easier then correcting them. One of my favorite examples, was when a woman told me I got my figure back so quickly. I walked away with a hop in my step. But this never seems to happen with Ashvini. People just instinctively know I'm the nanny.

Alex

Huh. I guess I just don't get it.

Ashvini

One More Weekend with the Girls

I spent this weekend with those three little girls while their parents went made a quick trip to Utah. It seemed to go by so quickly and, it was a lot of fun. This weekend I was much more prepared. I brought my camera.

Friday we headed out to Target to buy some chalk, and then go to the park. As we were about to head out the I remembered my mom telling me, "There are some battles worth fighting. If it isn't worth it, don't fight it." I decided this wasn't worth it.

(Please notice the the 3 year old's tutu, the 8 year old's two shirts that just weren't supposed to be worn together, and the 6 year old's two toys that she "just had to bring!" not to mention her hair).

Here is our fun at the park.

We had flowers and rainbows, and polka dot snakes. We played a mean game of hopscotch on till the 8 year old lost her lucky rock. We decided that one of the lost boys probably took it and then her gave it to Peter Pan. Secretly i blame the 3 year old.

We collected a bunch of rolly pollies and I sang "Little Black Things"

And then we took a couple beauty shots.

For the next to days we hung around the house, watched TV, and played a lot of Uno. Every now and then we broke out the camera again. This is the average photography inspiration.



One of the high lights that day was when the 8 year old decided to make us a snack. After hearing what she had in mind, namely making it up as she went along, I decided to supervise.

The recipe of our snack

1st Boil peanut butter in water, until it simmer down to a paste.

2nd Add crumbled butter crackers and chocolate teddy grahams.

3rd Decide it's to thick and add more water.
4th Add honey

Serve while hot, with popcorn. It is actually surprisingly good. The teddy grahams were soggy but once you get past that, I enjoyed it.

YUM!

After church we went to my mom's house to have dinner. Our main course was Hawaiian Haystacks. Of course, if my mom does something fun, it is always done with flair. As we came into the kitchen, ready to eat dinner, we saw a beautifully laid table and Haywain leis for the girls. They also found cute little post its shaped in the first letter of their name. It was so fun to see how much they loved it. Later that night, when their parents came home, that was the first thing that they started talking about.

It was a really fun weekend and I know that we all had fun together. It was also fun to see their reactions to when their parents came home. In a word, "Hurray."

She's Not My Kid!

Every little girl has played house before. They pretended to make dinner, and to watch up the babies. They waited until Daddy got home and then everyone went to bed, just to do the same thing over again the next day.

This weekend I got to play house, and I even had three little girls following me around calling me mommy. No joke, they all called me mommy. I don't think any of them even know my name. Once I reminded the middle child that my name was "Tressa", or "Babysitter" i needed, but she told me that, "she knew my name wasn't mommy, but we could pretend it was." Honestly how can you argue with that. So for four days three blond little girls following me around saying, "Can I push the elevator button mommy." (Sometimes they would call me mother if we were playing princess.)

The two oldest girls told me what love really is right at bad time. One said, "I don't like boys, except for this boy named Zach... He's five!" and then she giggled in the most girly voice. the oldest and more mature girl said, "I know I'm in love, because I read in a book that love feels like you got ran over by a truck. That's what I feel."

This last one made me laugh. When Deborah and I feel gross and ugly we often say, "I feel like I just got hit by a Truck." Who knew we were just in love.

It was a very fun weekend, and I started to really get used to being called mommy. Of course every now and then I didn't like it. Like the time we went to the library, and the littlest refused to keep her old diaper on, and we didn't have an extra. She went around the library flashing everyone because she was wearing a dress. then as we got ready to go she began to scream that she didn't want to go. then she screamed that she needed this book.(It was Street Car Named Desire, I thought that might be a little out of her range.) As we were walking out of the library, with the little girl flashing everyone, she screamed, "Mommy I don't want to go!!!" All I wanted to do was look at the lady next to me and say, "She's not my kid." but you know, I think a lot of people wouldn't have believed me.

That's Idaho for You

Well I got through the rexburg winters, with all of my digits, which is a bit of a miracle. It was cold and snowing, and there was plenty of falling down to be had by all. There were some frustrating days, when I would wake up and think spring was here, only to find an inch of snow after I finished breakfast.

Deborah told me that there are days in Rexburg where you experience all four seasons in the course of the day. It's true. I secretly thought that once winter semester was over, I'd be done with bizarre weather patterns. I was very wrong.

We have been experiencing rain. I mean lots of rain. Now that's not the weird thing. The weird thing is you never know when its coming, and your never know when its going to go. for the last couple storms, the rain has come in an instant. And while we stand outside in the rain we look out into the sky and see blue sky.

One day it began to rain and hale at our dorm. I looked out at the Taylor building, which is a three minute walk form where I live, and saw to my amazement blue sky and clouds so white and fluffy they seem to only be there for decoration.

Honestly its kind of fun. I mean I'll be walking to class and get sprinkles in the face. I won't know if its from the sprinklers, or the rain. It adds a little mystery to life.

One of These Things is Not Like the Other.

I remember the first time all of my roommates sat around together to eat. I looked at my roommates and thought, "One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just does not belong." I live in an apartment with a lot of, well lets say, Mexican influence.

Andy is a Mexican citizen and loves Mexico. When I'm talking to her, she will say things like, "That is what I don't get about Americans," or "You Americans are so, well I'm not going to say." She isn't antagoistic or anything, she is just patriotic. Andy is my psychiatrist. She is a Pychology major and loves to analyze people. When I come to her with a problem, she will come at my with something like, "You know you are very competative, so maybe you should remember that when you talk to her."

(Sorry Andy I only had pictures of you sticking out your tongue!)

Deborah described andy as the perfect latin woman. Whenever we have a cooking question we deffer to Andy. Today for example, she cut the watermellon, becasue I didn't know how. She is the one who knows when the meat is done and gets my zipper unstuck when I'm ready to cut my skirt off with scissors, more than any of us. I love Andy.

Nelva is from Chicago. Her parents are from Mexico, and she went to high school in Mexico with Andy. Nelva is logical. She likes understanding how and why thing work. Her major is mechanical engineering. Whenever she tells someone her major they always give her a look. That is a boy major, and you don't see many girls inthe Austen building. No she is not in that major to get a husband. She just likes understanding how things work.

The funny thing is, as much as Nelva like to be logical, she loves superheros. When she is one with her homework she treats herself to an episode of X-Men. Nelva has given us all super powers and evne made mock-ups of our super hero costumes. My super power is the power of persuasion. She is sad I can't blow anything up, but I like it alot, and I love Nelva.

Vicky is from Arizona, but her parents are from Mexico. She goes down there on vacation. Vicky is the girl to go to if you need any suggestions on hair, make-up, or outfits. Not only can she make a great outfit out of nothing, she has the ability to kindly tell you your outfit stinks. That is a true skill. Vicky and I are both the fourth kid in a fmily of five. We will sit and talk about the joys of sisters, and sibling ettiquite.

I love having Vicky in the apartment. If she wasn't there then we would talk a lot about hanging out with people, but we probably wouldn't do nearly as much of it. I love Vicky.

(I love this picture. After we took it, We looked at it and I was sad becasue you couldn't see my face. Nelva said, "Yeah tressa, your just to white." She misunderstood. I was talking about the hair in my face.)

Sometimes I feel like the minority in this apartment, and that I just don't know anythng. Here are some things I never knew: You can serve tortillas with just about any meal. You can curl your eye lashes with a spoon, but be careful, because suddenly you might not have any lashes. Some dysney songs are better in spanish. Finally my personal favorite, a woman is ready to get married, only when she knows how to cook rice. I am not ready to get married.

The funny thing is, while it's always noticable when my hair in particular, is caught in the drain, I don't feel like the odd man out. I feel very incuded, and cared for. I mean, if I ever feel completly awful, they sit me down nad comfort me with love and food.

I love my roommates

It Finally Happened

Well it finally happened. I didn't think it would happen so soon but it did. I have... A boyfriend. I know! Crazy!

His name is Shane, He was in a class with one of my roommates, and all of a sudden he started showing up at our apartment. It wasn't long before we would expect him and be a little disappointed if he didn't show up that day. He doesn't have a cell phone, adn is never near his apartment phone, so I used to call him our Phantom Friend. I also call him the apartment pet, but that's for a different reason. Just as a reference point, he was the boy who told me he loved me and then burst into laughter. Anyway I loved him coming over after that, because he just became an incredible friend. I thought it was so easy to talk to him.

One of the best things about our relationship, was that I did not feel threatened by him at all. We were just friends, and I never questioned his motives for a moment! Apparently I was out of the loop. I mean really out of the loop. While I never questioned his motives, every one else did. Everybody, including Deborah, knew he liked me, but knew that I just thought of him as a friend, so nothing was going to happen.

Anyway to make a very long story short, about a week and a half ago, I made some realizations about Shane. I started thinking that holding his hand didn't sound that bad. In fact I really liked the idea. Then I really started hating the idea of him liking and dating other girls.

Then to push me over the edge, he came to our apartment really frustrated. He said he felt like he shouldn't come over anymore. My roommates seemed to see this coming, but I was completely shocked by it. That idea put a huge pit in my stomach. That night Andy, my roommate/psychiatrist told me I needed to stop flirting with Shane because I wasn't being fair to him.

Faced with the idea of liking a boy, I began freaking out. I developed a stomach ulcer. When Shane finally showed up at my apartment after a few days, my imaginary stomach ulcer got bigger. Shane seemed defensive, and prickly, but once he warmed up he told me the reason he didn't want to come by anymore was because he liked me and he knew he didn't have a chance.

He was much more eloquent then I was. I said something like, "Well I have a confession to make. I started to feel... you know... It's like I, well even since Tuesday... Wow this is hard. I guess I'm trying to say, I like you. I like, like you in the way that holding your hand isn't a bad idea."

Shane is so sweet. He is so considerate, and patient when I have trouble expressing my feeling in a coherent sentence. Above all I feel so safe with him. It is so easy to be myself around him, and the best thing is he brings out my best self.

Anyway, I don't know what will happen next week or even next month when I go home, but right now I'm just enjoying spending time with my umm boyfriend.

We Just Want Some Food!!

Today we had one of those college adventures that everybody remembers. We just wanted to get some food. Today Vicky got a text that said Craigo's (an amazing pizza restaurant) had an all you can eat buffet for five dollars! This past week and a half we have all gone through phases of wanting to eat everything in sight. We thought this would be a good opportunity to fulfill the fansticy. (Vicky brought a big purse and zip lock bags. she was going to eat Craigo's for the rest of the week.)



Well we finally got into the car at around 9pm. All buckled up and ready to go, Vicky turned to the key, and nothing. Her car wouldn't start! The weird thing was her lights started flashing and the car made a clicking noise.



Still with a strong desire for Craigo's we changed our nice shoes for tennis shoes and started walking. It really is a short walk, but we are all starving and craving pizza. Andy thought about hitch hiking but nobody seemed to want to pick us up. Finally we saw the beautiful sign. We rushed to the door and just as we got to the door the open sign turned off!



We stared at the sign and the people inside the restaurant eating the pizza that was meant for us. Is was heartbreaking. By this time we were in some serious need of food, so we crossed the street to subway. The lights were off. It closed at 10pm. That was depressing.

Well how about Jack in the box? We went down the street, almost to the edge of town, towards Jack in the box. As we got to the parking lot, the woman behind the counter ran towards the door, and locked it. Jack in the box closes at 10pm.

Finally in desperation we went to McDonald's. We were so afraid that McDonald's would be closed. We were running out of restaurants in rexburg. Desperation set in when we saw that McDonald's was empty and a boy was sweeping up the play area. But we tried the door and it was a miracle. It opened. We lined up and all ordered off of the dollar menu.

We loved our food.

This is Not a Normal Squirrel

Every Monday and Wednesday I always see our local squirrel. When I first started seeing squirrels in Idaho I was strangely excited. I guess it reminded me of home, even though at home I only tolerated the squirrels. I am no longer excited to see this particular squirrel. I am frightened.

This squirrel is not a normal squirrel. It is fat, and has no fear of humans. When ever I pass it, I get about a foot away from him, and then he leisurely moves around the tree. I'm sure he doesn't care if I come close to him or not. He has just decided to keep up the squirrel human pretence to keep us happy.

This squirrel is mean. He is really really mean. Once I saw a bird picking at something on the ground, and this squirrel came charging at the bird. He was ready to attack the bird for what I assume was a wrapper. After the bird flew off the squirrel started yelling at the bird. He stood on his two hind legs and screamed at the sky. I'm sure he was insulting the birds mother, and warning him never to come back to Kerr Hall again.

Ordinarily I would name an animal that is so distinct in character, but not this one. I'm afraid that if he doesn't like the name, he'll come in at night and kill me. I wouldn't put it passed him. He knows where I live.

Eat, Drink, and go Crazy

I love my new FHE brothers. They are so sweet and very funny. Our first Sunday here they came to our apartment and introduced themselves. They were even so kind as to do some manly chores, like taking bikes off of cars, and moving a heavy TV. About five minutes after they left, we had a knock on our front door. There were two brothers, "Ummm can we get something to eat."


Apparently these poor boys had no food in their house, and were hoping for handouts. I realized that night that Mormon girls with marriage on their minds love nothing more than displaying their domestic capabilities to a bunch of cute single guys. We fluttered around the kitchen as they watched in amazement. They said they just expected a peanut butter sandwich.


All of last week we gushed over the thought of our brothers. No we aren't in love with them, but we have assigned each guy out to a specific girl. It didn't take long for us to decide that we need to invite them over again, and with that thought in mind a lot of chicken was bought.


Last Sunday my roommates and I sat in Sacrament discussing the meal and at what time they should come. Mashed potatoes won out over rice, before the fireside instead of after, and fried chicken instead of... well we realized we didn't know any other way of making chicken. That's about the time we realized that the chicken was still in the freezer. Vicky ran home to defrost it, and since she didn't come back we assumed she started on the rest of the meal.


Our brothers seemed pretty excited to come for dinner, which made us excited to make it. So the rest of my roommates ran home the start on dinner. We only had an hour to prepare.


Once we just home, that's when the problems really started. The chicken was still very frozen. Time ticked by as we tried every trick we could think of to defrost chicken. 30 minutes till their arrival, panic started. I said, "We need a back up plan." We had some beef Vicky was planning on making, and so we started cooking that. "But wait some of the chicken is ready." So we started cooking that. It wasn't cooking fast enough, and plan C was a box of frozen corn dogs. "Do you need to defrost corn dogs?"


I even made a futile attempt to call and stall until after the fireside, but no luck. These popular boys had plans. Our brothers even came five minutes late, and we had nothing ready. I looked around and realized that three frantic girls in the kitchen was enough, and I left to be hostess. I wasn't easy trying to distract three hunger boys from a partially separated kitchen with crashing and thud sounds coming from it.


Really in the end it was Nelva's superhero poster that got their attention. Finally, ten minutes later we put food on the table. For dinner we had: lumpy mashed potatoes, wonderful salad, tiny chunks of beef, tortillas, and of course corn dogs.


When we finally sat down to eat, it was really great. The boys were so excited to have "real food," and we were so grateful to serve anything! During the first few bites I was terrified that something would taste awful, and in reality we could have done a lot better. Our brothers didn't seem to notice. I think it was because they're boys.

You do some strange things at college.

I was going through some pictures today and found some of my favorites. Last semester in my old apartment we had a christmas tree. We would occasionally move it adn change the decorations. THis is my favorite decoration.

It's our pan-tree!!

Blood Sweat and Tears

It's here... the end of the semester!! I only have eight more days of class, and half of my teachers are not requiring us to come the last day of school. I guess its their little gift to us.
Maybe its to make up for all of the end of semester work we have to do. I have a couple papers to write, two presentations to give, and I don't even know how many tests I have to take! Maybe I should figure that last part out.

But to cap off our finales to-do list we have Whiteglove. I just experienced my first whiteglove, and to be honest I don't know how I feel about it.

All of my roommates decided to procrastinate cleaning until last Friday night, the night before we got checked. I started around 5 pm. That was after I just got an A+ on a math so I was on a pretty big high. Then I saw my stove.

As a side note, our stove has been overworked this semester. We all like to cook to some degree, and I estimate that the stove/oven combo makes at least six meals on a very slow day. Interestingly enough known of us have ever taken the time to clean the stove.

I wasn't sure what the stoves true color was, but I took my steal wool in hand and began my intense scrubbing. I scrubbed and scrubbed, and when I had enough I started on the oven.

I found myself reverting back to my old cleaning tricks. When I was little and had a lot to clean I would pretend I was a maid in a haunted house, or an orphan forced to clean by the evil orphanage lady. I haven't done that in such a long time, but around 11pm I was imagining I was a fine lady who ran away from her evil husband and took a job as a scullery maid. I thought it was very Anne of Green Gables of me,but it got me through the floor, windows and the cabinets.

Kristie and I worked on the kitchen until 12:30, and then fell into bed. Then we got up early the next morning to finish the kitchen and work on our rooms.

My resident assistant said we pasted with flying colors. I'm sure glad we did, because as I looked my hands I saw the two small burns on my fingers, the several cuts I found randomly, and sand paper skin that has since been loaded with lotion.

I felt like all of the grim that I washed off the floor was clinging to me, its a gross feeling. But at the same time I am so proud of the kitchen. I look at it and see the new sparkle. It makes me feel so proud and so protective. When one of my roommates spilled her pot of noodles on my stove I almost cried. I had to remind myself that I should ask if my roommate was okay, instead of attending to the stove.

What can I say, I think I've bonded with my kitchen.

The Bishop Didn't Mention This.

This semester, I've been called to be FHE Mom. Basically all I have to do is plan the activity for FHE and I'm good for another week. Over all, I'd say it's a pretty easy calling.

(Some of my daughters and one son.)

On Saturday I had an experience that I did not expect. I was alone in my dorm, and had just settled down for a perfect Saturday night: a masterpiece movie, and big bowl of popcorn. Suddenly my daughters burst in.

"Mommy, we have a question for you." Said one of my daughters. She was practically rolling on the floor laughing.


"Umm... What do you need?"

"Can you tell Jessica what 'to cop-a feel' means?" and then she burst into another peal of laughter.


Jessica look innocently at me as I hemmed and hawed, and wished that her father was here. I explained, to the best of my knowledge, what it was 'to cope-a-feel.'

(More of my beautiful daughters)

I just kept thinking, "The Bishop did not mention this."

Where Is My Hair?

Devotional inspires many people, on many different topics. Three weeks ago, I was inspired about my hair.

I found that having split ends puts me in a bad mood. I just sit and look at my split ends in disgust. One week in devotional I was a particularly bad mood, and Suddenly I knew I had to cut my hair. But how should I cut it? Short very short. And for the rest of the devotional I sat imagining my beautiful new hair.

Last Saturday I went to the beauty College to cut my hair. It's dirt cheap, but one the other hand these people are learning to cut hair. I was nervous and that woman looked at my hair.

"You know, I think your hair is long enough to donate to Locks of Love. If you do that we give you a free hair cut."

I was sold. Even though I had to cut my hair an inch shorter then i planned.

So, this week I've spent time getting reacquainted with my hair. Suddenly I don't use as much shampoo, but a lot more bobby pins. I can't put my hair in a pony-tail without a fight, but i can wear pig-tails without looking like a county bumpkin. So all in all, I'm happy.

Oh, so this is what fun is.

This past Christmas, my family went to the Sappington's for dessert, and Rock Band. I was not to keen on playing Rock Band, but my siblings cajoled me into it. They explained to me that this was what fun was. I hadn't realized it until then.

Here at BYUI I have been learning a lot of things. Among the treasure trove of knowledge is my expanding view on the word fun. Honestly, I'm a homebody. I like to stay inside and read a book. Actually talking to people, while possible, is extremely exhausting. I walk away from social situation, with the sudden urge to apply some deodorant.

Today I would like to announce a break through. Yes, on Wednesday night I actually went out willingly and talked to people.

That night I had no homework, and found myself watching my roommate and her boyfriend make dinner, and hug each other. As exhilarating as this was, I decided I needed to go out, and before i knew it I was walking to the Kirkam into an improve workshop.

I planned to sit and watch, but immediately I was passed the imaginary ball and had to pass the ball while saying something related to ice cream. Before I knew it, I was a blind woman in Rapunzel, a squid playing the Dating Game, and a woman determined to have Lasagna for dinner. I know, utterly absurd, but lasagna was the only thing I could think of.

I was really proud of myself. Me. Tressa Allred actually went out and talked to people. Not only that, but I would make a joke, and people would laugh!! Then they would make a joke, and I would laugh. It was like I was in a conversation and I was enjoying myself.

This really big. Next week, I think I'll actually try to talk to people after the closing prayer. I'm going to really need deodorant for that one.

For your viewing pleasure... my roommates.

This is Tamara and Megan eating Megan's delicious greenbean casserole.

This is Kristie and her boyfriend Josh. Josh is pretty much a staple in our dorm.

Warning May Cause Side Effects!

This semester, my wonderful sister has been trying, to teach me the art of flirting. It's hasn't been going well.

So far I have read Flirtspeak and Surrendered Single with particular emphasise, on the flirting chapters. Deborah has also given me numerous proven tips and secrets to flirting. I usually remember these tips after I say goodbye to the boy.

Despite my difficulty I have found this process very educational, and I am amazed at Deborah's skill. There is one tip that I absolutely love, and use daily.

Tell yourself, your hot!

Deborah said, "If you think your hot, then you'll walk differently, and pretty soon boys will think you are too. Just walk down the hall telling yourself, 'I'm so hot."' So I have. I really have.

I walk down the hall and think to myself, "Wow. I'm hot. I am so hot. I'm beautiful and gorgeous!! Cover Girl's got nothing on me! I am so good looking. It's almost illegal how hot I am! I'm burning up I'm SO HOT!" Pretty soon, I'm almost giggling because I'm so excited at my new found hotness. It's awesome.

However, I have been experiencing some side effects. No, it's not excess boys hanging around me. It's dancing.

This week I've been blasting my roommates "Booty Shakin' Playlist" (That's really what it's called dad.) and shakin' my umm... refer back to the playlist title.

Anyway, the point is, all of a sudden, I've started dancing around the apartment, not worrying who is looking. This is very weird. Usually I have to be in a very good mood to dance the way I've been dancing. I'm jumping and grooving, and shaking my... hair around.

My roommates have expressed some concern, but really I can't be that bad because I am just so hot.

Wow, I love being HOT.

This is Just Sad.

In my English class we had a discussion about how we are so dependent on technology. I nodded and commented, and then went home texting, without thinking twice. I just didn't realize until My dorm's Internet went out.

I have gone almost a week with very sketchy Internet use. Sometimes it works, but most times it doesn't. HOLY COW!! I've about gone crazy, and so has everyone in my dorm. We get up and check the Internet. We come home from class and check the Internet. at night when we have nothing to do, we spend most of the time checking the Internet.

The problem is, we don't know how to fix it because our Internet is down so we can't email anyone about it!! I exaggerate a little, but not really.

When I listened to my roommates freak out at their computers I just think to my self, "This is just sad."

p.s. I'm writing this in the library.

It's Not How it Used To Be.

College is different then high school.  Very very, different.   

My senior year of high school, I remember feeling so boxed in.  I hated that I went to school for one chunk of time, and it totally cut in to my most productive hours.  When i was at school I would just sit there.  By the last semester, all of my teachers would be done with the lesson withing fifteen minutes of the beginning of class.  I think they wanted us to leave just as much as we did.  

Anyway it really bothered me that I would waste all that time, when I had things I needed to do.  I spent most of my time in the library, and my flash drive became my best friend.  Don't get me started of the time I thought I had lost it. 

College is different.  I scheduled my classes so when I generally feel like working, I don't have class.   And when a professor is done with his lesson, we can go.  Once my science teacher, Brother Ben, gave us a shot lecture, and then we were out of class within 20 minutes.  It was awesome.

On the other hand I did love not going to school.  If I was a little sick I had no qualms about not going to school.  I would usually go to seminary, but school was expendable.  It's not the same here.

In all of my classes I'm graded on attendance. I have to go to classes, or else my grade suffers.  Maybe its just because I'm new, or I'm my fathers child, and I have "Go for Every Point," running through my head.  I don't know, but I can't seem to skip a class.  

Last Thursday I found myself so sick I wanted to die.  There was nothing I wanted more than to curl up in my bed as I alternated between burning up and freezing cold.  

It was the weirdest thing, I found myself putting on my shoes and coat and going to class.  I don't know what came over me.  I do love my English class, and my professor (which is a good thing because I sit right under his nose, and he calls on me everyday).  

That day he had me read two essays aloud to the class, which turned out to be a good thing because it distracted me from me wanting to die.  Unfortunately we went on to watch a movie about sentence structure, and I was back to dieing.  

I made it through however, and my beautiful sister brought me more medicine then I could ever need, which got me through the week, and on to Saturday.  I didn't miss any class. 

I still wonder why?  I really felt crummy, and I stayed home from high school for much less.  I do have, "Go for every point," running through my head.  Maybe its the fact that I'm actually paying for these classes.  I don't want to waste that money.  I'm going to soak up as much knowledge as i can for my dollar.  

Hmmm.  I don't know if this deal is really fair.  Oh well.  

See you at class.

Who can resist Valentine's Day cards.

Not many people know this, but I have six boyfriends. The relationships are pretty serious. I've known them for years, meet their parents, and have even gone on vacations with them. Yes, the oldest is ten, and the youngest just turned two, but really age is just a number.

This long distance relationship has been hard, and I've really missed all of the boys. Yesterday I got the best surprise ever. I found an envelope with six Valentine's Day cards on my desk.

I don't think my roommates realized how much I missed these boys, but they soon realized. After jumping around a bit, I showed them the boys pictures. I don't think they appreciated these boys as much as I do.

Umm..Say That Again?

My Book of Mormon class is so fun. In my class, I've got the really funny people, and the incredibly spiritual people. Last Friday we had a date with my Book of Mormon class. We went to Brother Bagget's house and watched a video about Lehi's family. In short, this is definitely my favorite class.

And then we hit Isaiah.

The way the schedule worked out, we had to finish all of the Isaiah chapters in two classes. Holy Cow!!! I found myself spending all day reading 15 chapters. As I was doing my work sheet I really do think I sustained brain damage.

In the middle of figuring out when exactly Jerusalem would be destroyed, I remembered a quote from Joseph Smith. It was something to the effect of, "If you read Isaiah with the spirit, it is simple to understand." I found myself thinking "Are you sure?"

Then after I struggled through another chapter, I remembered that in 3 Nephi 23 Jesus commands us to read Isaiah. "For great are the words are Isaiah." The inner baby in me started stamping my feet and saying in my most whiny voice, "But Why???"

I understand that Isaiah had an extremely difficult task of translating wondrous visions into words we could understand, but really what is this guy talking about?

I am determined to understand Isaiah, but after this week I've realized that this is going to be a life long process.

"Great are the words of Isaiah."

I'm Not Your Canvas! Oh wait...

Sometimes college students find themselves doing jobs you never thought you would do. I, for example, am now an art model. I sit in front of people and then they draw me. I inspire art.

I've gone two sessions, and I only get a few jobs a month. It is quite the interesting job. My first session, I sat in the middle with two other models while the teacher gave a minny lesson. I thought it was so fun to listen to the teacher, and I even learned a few things about drawing faces.

All of a sudden I look over a a guy is staring at me. It freaked me out a little, until I realized that he was drawing me! I had to remind myself that this wasn't creepy, it was my job.

Being a model is pretty easy, I just sit there. That is it. Of course I don't know how good it is for my self esteem. During the breaks I went around and looked at what they were drawing. Some were very nice, but there were some that made me cringe. I thought, "Is that really what I look like?"

On Wednesday, I sat in the chair, holding still, for the guy who was drawing me, as I listened to the teacher. He was trying to get his students to understand the planes on a face, and how they really do apply. I knew I was in trouble, when he paused mid sentence, and asked, "Do you have to do anything after this class? I'm sure it will wash off."

Before I knew it, he hand charcoal in hand and was drawing the planes of my face, on my face. I felt ridiculous, but hey, all in the name of art right?

I sat there feeling a bit like a coloring book page. On the other hand I really do think it helped the students, because as i went around to the students easels during breaks, i wasn't ashamed of my face. The pictures actually looked like me.

Happy Birthday Big Brother!

Today is Eldon's 22th birthday. Wow, Eldon your getting up there in life. I don't I've spent a birthday with him for about three years now. So instead of throwing him an awesome surprise party, I thought I'd blog about him.

I love my big brother. He is the best brother I could have asked for. I remember one time when I was ten, I decided to brush my hair with a round brush. I loved the little flip that would happen, so I kept swirling my hair in the brush... I soon realized that my hair was more of a rat's nest then when I started and the brush was stuck. I mean nothing short of a weed whacker would get it out.

I was freaking out, and went to my family for help. After they all finished laughing at me, Eldon sat down and started pulling my hair out of the brush, strand by strand. I think when sat there for at least half an hour, maybe more.

I think some of my favorite memories were when we would drive around in the car together. We would usually be going to mutual or to the library, but the drives were so fun. I remember fighting with him. our discussions got pretty heated, and it didn't matter what it was about. We would each stand at opposite ends of an issue and fight.

I don't think anyone else really understood that we were having so much fun. It was kind of like playing together. I miss those drives. Even the one where Eldon made me read a quantum physics book to him. All I remember, was a lot of weird symbols and something about heat.

We'll Deborah and I decided to through him a little birthday party, in Idaho. I talked to him on Sunday he said all we should do is stick a candle in a Twinkie and blow it out. So we did.

I know you won't get this Eldon, but we were having major Gilmore Girls flashbacks.

I thought the Twinkie cake looked pretty good.

If you want to see the footage of us lighting the cake, go to Deborah's blog. Whenever she gets around to it.

We were both ready to dig in. Then we realized Twinkies are disgusting.

Really very gross.

Well no matter the cake, We love you Eldon, and wish you a happy birthday.

Love, Tressa and Deborah.