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.